​LWML Sunday
Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost  series A
Matthew 11:25-30
10-1-23
 
In the 1800’s, people began hearing about a wonderful place far off to the West with cheap and fertile farmland, a place called Oregon. Like people are prone to do, many families packed way more than was necessary or even practical. So when animals died or were injured, and wagons broke down, families were forced to lighten their loads to continue. Scattered all along the Oregon Trail were discarded dressers, tables, and dishes.
I can imagine the heated and emotional discussions when the question was asked, “Why? Why did we bring it?” At the time, it was an important question of survival, so many special things, things that were part of their family history, were left behind. All these years later, the interstate has replaced the Oregon Trail and moving trucks have replaced the prairie schooners, but the question is still relevant, so I ask you, “Why are you still carrying it?”
Now you may be asking yourself, “Why am I still carrying what?” Maybe you don’t think you have anything that needs to go. You may be the only one in the world with nothing to let go of, but it’s not very probable. In the Gospel, Jesus talks about the wise and understanding and how certain things are hidden from them. They don’t see, or don’t admit, that they’re carrying something they really should leave behind. The wise think they can keep carrying on with no problem. They’re capable of handling it themselves. They suck it up. They put their shoulder to the wheel and just power their way forward. Others pretend they’re not carrying anything. Some blame others for what they’re carrying, so they push what they’re carrying off on to others. But it doesn’t work that way; what you carry is yours.
If you’re carrying something too big to handle on your own, you get a friend to help. But be honest, how often do friends let you down? They get tired of helping so they drift away. They have their own things to carry so they can’t give you the help you need. It happens, right? And even if someone sticks with you and helps you all they can, there’s only so much they can do. In the end, you’re left to carry on by yourself.
If you’ve ever carried something really heavy, you know the relief you have as soon as you put it down. The strain on your arms and back is immediately relieved. You stand up straight, stretch your back and take a deep breath. If only it was that easy to drop the weighty things we carry. Early on, you may have wondered what I was talking about when I was asked “Why are you still carrying it?” but I hope you’ve realized what I’m referring to by now. What you’re still carrying is probably different than the person next to you, but be assured that we’re all carrying something.
Some of you may carry a troubled conscience because of some past sin: a baby aborted, a divorce, an arrest, an uncharacteristic outburst of anger and violence, things done and left undone. Maybe you feel like King David did, “For my iniquities have gone over my head; like a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me.” (Psalm 38:4)
Some of you might be carrying the weight of a heart broken by betrayal or abuse. Do you carry the weight of the Devil and his temptations; the temptations that could ruin your life or your marriage or your career?
Some of you might be carrying a thirsty soul, one that aches for God to show you His presence, one that needs Him to banish your doubts.
Some of you may carry the weight of need; it doesn’t matter what it is, it’s still heavy. Do you carry fear? Fear of your illness, fear of death, fear of growing up, fear of growing old, fear of being alone, fear of the future, fear of losing God? Do you carry something else? Something I didn’t mention? Something only you know?
Wouldn’t it be a relief if you could just put down all these feelings, sins, emotions, hurts, and sorrows. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful if you could just drop them and walk away? Well, you know what? You can!
In the Gospel Jesus says, “All things have been handed over to me by my Father” and this means you and all that you carry! Jesus says to you, “Why are you still carrying it?” “Why are you still carrying it when I want to take it from you?” He says, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
 This is a gracious invitation that comes from God Himself, from Jesus your loving Savior. Jesus said that God revealed hidden things to little children, and this is the great revelation, you don’t have to carry on by yourself. You don’t have to labor under all that weighs you down. He promises you that you can come to Him with whatever it is that you’re carrying and He will give you rest. Someone once said, “Sleep doesn’t help when your soul is tired.” I can’t argue with that, but I promise that the promises of Jesus are for you and He will give you rest. As King David sang, so can you, “For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation.” (Psalm 62:1)
When you give Jesus the burdens that are wearing you down and wearing you out, He gives you relief in the form of another yoke. This sounds like a contradiction, but listen to what Jesus says. “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” The yoke Jesus gives you isn’t heavy. It’s the knowledge of why Jesus does what He does – that He is gentle and lowly, that He is not cut off from you but close by.
If you’re carrying the weight of past sins, Jesus says, “I came into the world to save sinners.” (1 Tim. 1:15).
If you’re afraid of God, if you fear His wrath, Jesus declares, “I carried, and drank, the cup of God’s wrath in your place.” (Luke 22:42)
If your heart is bruised and broken, Jesus promises, “I am near to you. I will heal your broken heart and bandage your wounds.” (Psalm 147:3)
If the Devil constantly attacks you, forcing you to carry the weight of temptation, Jesus assures you, “Know that I defend you as the Lion of Judah.” (Revelation 5:5)
If you carry a thirsty soul, one that needs to hear from God, one that needs His presence, Jesus says to you, “Let me quench your thirst with myself, the Living Water.” (Matthew 5:6, John 7:37)
If your conscience is distressed and troubled, Jesus pronounces, “I am Great Physician. I will pour the heavenly comfort of forgiveness over it.” (Matthew 9:12, Luke 10:33).
If you are in need, Jesus promises, “When you call to me, I will answer; I will be with you in trouble; I will rescue you and honor you.” (Psalm 91:15)
If you’re carrying something else, something only you know, Jesus promises you too, “Cast your burden on me, and I will sustain you; I will never permit the righteous to be moved.” (Psalm 55:22). These promises are the yoke that Jesus gives to you and you can rest in them.
It had to be hard for those on the Oregon Trail to leave things behind, but they had to if they were going to survive and finish their journey. It’s hard for us to leave our burdens behind as well. But we do so because Christ has promised to take them from us. What a great exchange: we give him the heavy loads of our lives, and He gives us the feather-light load of peace, forgiveness, hope, comfort, and everything else He promises to us, His little children. So don’t carry it anymore! Jesus is here so you don’t have to, and now you can find much-needed rest in Him. Amen.

​9-24-23
Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost A
"The Generous Landlord"
 
(Start the sermon by telling the story of Dad picking up day workers at a particular site in the city. Dad had, during the depression, stood in similar circumstances hoping that he would get hired so he could feed his family )
 
The parable we heard earlier is titled - in most Bibles the Parable of Workers in the Vineyard. I want to suggest to you that it could have a different title, that it could equally well be called The Parable of the Generous Landlord. Whatever one calls this parable, however, it is, for many of us, one of the
few parables left in the Bible that still have the power to disturb us, even, depending on our circumstances the power to anger us.
 
Something about this parable offends many people and if you think about it with me for a minute or two, you can see why. Jesus tells his disciples that the kingdom of heaven is like a landlord who hires help at various times through the day so that some work twelve hours, some nine, some six, and some, the last ones hired, work for only one hour.
 
So far so good,  a normal situation that we can all relate to -but what follows next is, according to some people,  not quite as good. What happens next is that at the end of the day  when the boss pays off his workers,  those he hired last receive not one hour's pay but a whole day's pay
 
Now that's great for them, but what happens after that, according to many people, doesn't seem quite fair, what happens is that those who worked all day long in the heat of the sun only get a day's pay. Is it fair? Many people do not think so.
 
Certainly, the workers who slaved all day in the heat do not think so, and they grumble and then complain to the landlord.
 
    "These men who were hired last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us, who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day" It is an interesting point.
 
Has something like this ever happened to you?  Has it ever happened that
you have had to work hard to get something - and then some Johnny-come-
lately, breezes in and gets the same thing without all the effort? Maybe not in working, but in school or college, or maybe in the office. If it has then you can understand where the laborers who worked all day long are coming from.
It is an upsetting parable - especially if you look at it from the point of view of someone who believes that those who work harder and longer deserve more than those who work for less time and without as much difficulty.
 
The problem in looking at the parable that way is that we have failed to see what Jesus was trying to teach. The grace of God toward all people no matter if they are lifetime Christians or accept grace on their deathbed.
 
Remember that those workers who were hired first had a great privilege: - they knew from the very beginning of the day that they had work and they knew that they would be paid fairly for it.
 
Now, let us look at the parable from the point of view of those hired last. All day they stood around in the unemployment line landlords came and went,
but they were not hired. At home they had family and nothing to feed them with, hope disappeared for them  as the sun cut its course across the sky.
 
They longed to be in the fields under that hot sun, working for someone and at the end of the day being paid a wage that would feed and cloth their family.
 
And finally, just as their last hope is about to set with the sun someone reaches out to them and tells them that they will receive whatever is fair. And they go, and they work with the hope of bringing home something, a small portion of a day's wage, enough - maybe - to survive another day  and maybe not. And so you can imagine just how those hired last felt when the time to be paid came. T
 
But then - the landlord does something completely crazy, completely wild, completely unexpected, completely, and totally generous something beyond their wildest dreams. He gives them a full day's wage even though they haven't earned it. But that is what happened. And my friends, that is what the kingdom of heaven is like.
 
They are so used to the certainty of their salvation so used to being part of God's work and being guaranteed their reward that they can no longer remember or imagine what being outside is like. what being without God is like. They forget, and they begin to complain, and their complaints are based the worst of all things they are based on comparisons, and selfish ones at that.
 
I've worked harder, I've been here longer, I've done more. I had to go through this - so should you. All sense of their own blessedness disappears. How sad it is. But praise God, my friends, praise God because the kingdom of God does not work that way. - the kingdom of God works on the basis of God's love and not on the basis of what we deserve.
 
And a good thing too - for those who labored all day could have been those who were not hired until the very end, they could of been those, who as in so many of this world's markets never get hired.
 
I believe that if the people who are now working in the vineyard, would only remember how blessed they are, they would stop grumbling and complaining about other people. Look at the parable in another way - look at it in terms of someone you love - who dies...
 
Sometimes a person dies full of years and honor, with his days' work ended
and his task completed.  Sometimes a young person dies before the doors of
life and achievement barely open.  The parable of the Generous Landlord teaches us that from God both will receive the same welcome. Christ is waiting, for neither, in the divine sense, has life ended too soon or too late.
 
The Landlord looks at us, our God looks at us, and he sees our needs and he
meets those needs.  The question in God's mind is not 'How much do
these people deserve?'; but rather, 'How can I help them?  how can I save
them before they perish?'
 
And that is God's right - and God's pleasure, just as it is a landlord's right and pleasure to be generous with his help, to give them more than they deserve, to make their hearts glad if he or she so chooses.
 
It is all grace and blessings my friends. It is grace to be hired in the morning, it is grace to be hired at noon time, it is grace to be hired near the end of the day.
 
Jesus said "The last will be first, and the first last." not to tell us how things are in the world, but to warn those who are first about the dangers of forgetting how we got to be first, the danger of being so comfortable in our position of being first that we dare to question God's love for others who happen along after us.
 
But for those who have eyes to see and ears to hear
the parable is glorious news about God's love for us all,
   
Indeed it is a source of hope and strength for everyone who is called to
Labor in God's field rather than left to perish in the marketplace with
those who have not been chosen.
May our prayer to God be this:
 
    O thou who hast given so much to me,
    give me one thing more,
    a grateful heart,
    and help me Lord to remember that
    while it is possible to give without loving,
    it is impossible to love without giving.  AMEN
 
(Close by having the congregation sing the “Doxology page 805    

​ 
Have you ever heard this warning: Be careful what you pray for – you might get it. Watch out – you just might get what you are after. Here's a prayer many of us pray at least once a week – forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
 
Is that what we really want? We know we want God's forgiveness. Of that, we are quite sure. However, we are unsure about the second part, about how we forgive others. We know that we are not nearly so quick to forgive others as we hope and pray that God forgives us. The Psalmist says, "The Lord is full of compassion and mercy, slow to anger and of great kindness." Great news. We mess up. We ask God for forgiveness. The Lord is full of compassion and mercy, and so God forgives us. And we are thankful. But when someone does us wrong or dirty, we say, "Not so fast." We are not so full of compassion and mercy. We are not so slow to anger and of great kindness. We may be quick to anger and full of colorful language. And yet, this is how Our Lord taught us to pray – forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. Be careful what you pray for – you just might get it.
 
In our Gospel lesson, Peter comes to Jesus and asks, "Lord, if someone sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?"
 
Peter always asks the questions that we would like to ask. He is so earnest and so eager to do the right thing. But Peter also always seems to be getting it wrong. Maybe it's this fallible humanity that makes Peter an exemplar for us. He had heard Jesus talk about forgiveness, so he wants to know more. And Peter must have done his homework, too. An ancient rabbinic tradition says a person should forgive another who has sinned against him as many as four times. So, earnest and eager Peter tries to be even more extravagant than the rabbis, and he adds three more times. He asks, "Should I forgive a person even up to seven times?"
 
Seven times is a lot. It's three more than the rabbis. It is a lot of times to turn and forgive someone who has sinned against you. Perhaps Peter was expecting Jesus to praise him for even suggesting such extravagant forgiveness. Perhaps Peter was hoping for a pat on the back, a gold star for the day, for an A+ on his forgiveness exam.
 
This doesn't happen. Rather, Jesus turns and says, "No, not seven times, but seventy-seven times." New Testament scholars debate whether the Greek text means "seventy-seven times" or "seventy times seven times." But that is beside the point because either way, Jesus is holding up an enormous number so big that we can't begin to calculate it in terms of forgiveness. Peter wants a rule, a measurement, so he holds his hands wide and says, "This much, Lord? Should I forgive even this much?" And Jesus says, "No, much more than that. You're not even using the right scale. As far as the east is from the West, that's how much you should forgive." It's such an enormous amount of forgiveness that it would be senseless to calculate how much or how often.
 
One instrument designed to assess our forgiving character is known as the "Forgiveness Likelihood Scale." It gives ten scenarios of wrongdoing and then asks participants to indicate their likelihood to forgive on a scale from very unlikely to very likely. Here are a few of the items:
 
You share something embarrassing about yourself to a friend who promises to keep the information confidential. However, the friend breaks his promise and proceeds to tell several people. What is the likelihood that you would choose to forgive your friend?
 
A family member humiliates you in front of others by sharing a story about you that you did not want anyone to know. What is the likelihood that you would choose to forgive the family member?
 
A stranger breaks into your house and steals a substantial sum of money from you. What is the likelihood that you would choose to forgive the stranger?
 
How are we doing so far?
 
I take it that Jesus is not saying that Peter needs to recalibrate his Forgiveness Likelihood Scale. Rather, I think Jesus' response is a way of saying the question, and what it is trying to measure is not quite right. The Psalmist says, "As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our sins from us." It's hard to put a number on that type of forgiveness!
 
And, yet, many of us may still sympathize with Peter. It seems to us that following Jesus ought to make some difference in our lives. He tells us to forgive those who have sinned against us. He tells us to love our enemies. He says our righteousness ought to exceed that of the scribes and the Pharisees. Okay. We want to follow and we are trying the best we can.
 
But, perhaps like Peter, we would also like some benchmarks to know how we are doing. We may think Peter asking Jesus if he ought to forgive someone as many as seven times is a reasonable request for some practical guidelines. For most of us, sometime in our walk with the Lord, we have probably asked ourselves: Am I doing this right?
 
Unfortunately, that question may be part of the problem. The spiritual danger is that when we focus on our virtue and character strengths, we may become a bit too preoccupied with ourselves. And the real danger happens when we start thinking of our character strengths as accomplishments of our noble, virtuous, righteous selves. Here, we can too easily slide into self-righteousness, the smug attitude that knows what real forgiveness is, who is a truly forgiving person and who is not, who deserves forgiveness and who does not, and maybe even the extent and limits of forgiveness: "seven times seems about right."
 
Here, we can easily forget that, while our character strengths and virtues may indeed glorify God when it comes to the Gospel, our Lord doesn't just deal with parts of us, the noble bits that we would like to put on display, but rather God seeks a relationship with whole human beings, every thought, word, and deed, everything, absolutely everything, that we are and we do. And when we remember this, none of us, saints or sinners, people who are off the charts on the forgiveness scale, and those of us who still struggle to forgive, have a leg to stand on. We are all utterly dependent on Christ's unconditional, unmerited grace and mercy, who has removed our sins as far as the East is from the West.
 
Perhaps that's why Jesus tells Peter the story about the unforgiving servant, a story where the numbers don't add up, because the numbers can't be added up when it comes to what Jesus has done for us. A servant owes the king ten thousand talents. Now, this is a crazy number. A single talent was more than 15 years' worth of daily wages. So, when Jesus says this servant owed the king ten thousand talents, he's effectively saying he owed him a bazillion dollars, a sum he could never pay back.
 
The servant, no surprise, couldn't pay back the debt, so the king orders him and everything he has to be sold off. So, the servant falls on his knees and begs for an extension and promises that if he gets some extra time, he will pay everything back. And, we don't know if we are to laugh at him or to pity him, because there is no way the servant will ever be able to pay back the king. Maybe the king was amused, because he responds to this ridiculous request with an amazing act: Since there is no way the slave will ever be able to pay back what he owes, the king just forgives the debt, every last cent, and sets the slave free.
 
Yet, when the servant, who has just been forgiven a debt of a bazillion dollars, runs into a guy who owes him a hundred denarii – which amounts to a few bucks in comparison to what he owed the king – what does he do? Well, he grabs the guy by the throat and demands that he pay up. And when the king finds out that the servant for whom he had just forgiven an unimaginable amount wouldn't forgive the pittance that was owed him by another, he had the servant thrown into prison.
 
Jesus reframes the whole question about forgiveness. When it comes to forgiveness, we are all like servants who owe our Lord and King more than we can imagine. Try as we may to repay our debt through our character strengths, virtues, or willingness to forgive as many as seven times, we will never be able to pay back all that we owe to God. But the good news is that despite our inability ever to give back to God everything we ought, God forgives us anyway, completely. In the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God has taken upon himself all our burdens, sins, and debts and has forgiven them. Completely, irrevocably, utterly forgiven and healed by Jesus. God is the God who forgives.
 
We forgive, then, because God forgives. The forgiveness that we are to pass on to others is the forgiveness we have in union with Christ. Not because we are moral heroes or seek our own well-being, but because we are forgiven sinners desperately needing forgiveness.
 
Forgiveness may very well be a character strength and virtue. It probably does contribute to leading good and happy lives. Saints like Peter probably do score more highly on Forgiveness Likelihood Scales. But, Jesus reminds us, when it comes to our ability and need to forgive, we are all of us, those of us who have great character strengths and those of us who do not, debtors kneeling at the foot of the cross.
 

​9/10/23
 Ezekiel 33:7-9
God's Watchmen
This morning I am going to talk to you on the Old Testament Text. “So you, son of man, I have made a watchman for the house of Israel. Whenever you hear a word from my mouth, you shall give them warning from me.”
Today a watchman or a security guard is in not a very well-paid or esteemed position at all, but in those days it was. In fact, the Watchman was the key figure in the defense of a city.  It was his job to station himself high atop the city wall and act as a sentry, scanning the horizon for any would-be attackers who might attack the city. When he saw anything suspicious, he was supposed to immediately take out his ram’s horn and blow the warning signal so that the citizens in the field could retreat to the safety of the city walls and the men could prepare for battle. Any failure on the part of the Watchman would often result in death for many or all the members of his city or his own death because he had not done what he was supposed to do, that is, warn the city of the approaching enemy army.
However, we must remember that Ezekiel was called by God not to be a military watchman but a spiritual one. He didn’t have to stand atop a wall and blow a ram’s horn.  Instead, he had to stand firmly on the Holy Scriptures and proclaim the truth of God’s Holy Word.
In many respects, that’s an even more weighty responsibility.  Being a spiritual watchman is a very serious endeavor – so much so, that God gave Ezekiel the following caution:
“If I say to the wicked, O wicked one, you shall surely die, and you do not speak to warn the wicked to turn from his way, that wicked person shall die in his iniquity, but his blood I will require at your hand.  But if you warn the wicked to turn from his way, and he does not turn from his way, that person shall die in his iniquity, but you will have delivered your [own]soul.”
According to these words, Ezekiel as the spiritual Watchman would be held accountable by God.  He was not just looking out for the people’s physical welfare, but for their spiritual welfare, which, in many ways, was more important. It is an extremely serious matter because his failure to warn would not just result in people’s physical or temporal death but their spiritual or eternal death in hell, which was and still is much worse.
Ezekiel took on the job of spiritual Watchman for the House of Israel.  And by the power of God the Holy Spirit, he did what God gave him to do. He made it his business to warn the wicked to turn away from their sinful ways, to repent and to believe and trust in the Lord God of Israel so that they would not surely die, but live eternally with Him.
Now some of you might be thinking, “He ministered some 2,600 years ago, so what do these words have to do with me here today?” Well, I’ll tell you God still needs watchmen today, just as much as he did back then.
As baptized believers in Christ, as members of the One Holy Christian and Apostolic Church, you are all Watchman too.  You’ve all been drafted and like the old song went, “You’re in the army now.” 
My friends the danger is still there, so if you are not currently involved in Bible study here at church or at home, I earnestly ask each of you to prayerfully consider doing so, so that you might be a good and faithful watchman as God calls us all to be.  We need to be constantly reminded not only of our own faults and short-comings but of the beautiful gospel, that God, in His limitless love, sent His only begotten Son, Jesus Christ, to save us all by obliterating our enemies of sin, death, and hell. 
He was appointed by the Father to be the ultimate and perfect Watchman, watching out for our eternal welfare.  And He did so, not by climbing up on a wall, but by climbing up Calvary with a cross.  He didn’t sound the alarm by blowing a ram’s horn, but by shedding His holy blood to wipe out all our sins.  He took the full onslaught of Satan’s attack, all his charges and accusations and indictments against us, so that you and I would be spared, so that we could all be free from blame.  He did it all, so that we might retreat within the shelter of the city walls, the safety of His everlasting kingdom.
As a matter of fact, in a beautiful way, Ezekiel’s name is a picture of that.  It’s a Hebrew word that means: ‘God strengthens.’  It comes from a verb that means:  ‘to harden, to make firm.’  And that’s precisely what God has done for us through Jesus Christ, our almighty, all-knowing ever-present Watchman.  He continually strengthens us in our faith through His Holy Word and Sacraments, so that we can be forgiven and saved.   He has made us hard and firm so that we can withstand all the assaults of the evil one.  Be assured that we will prevail because Jesus has prevailed. May the Good News equip and encourage us as we serve as faithful watchmen for Him and one another all the days of our lives.  In Jesus Name. Amen.
 

​9-3-23
14th Sunday after Pentecost Series A
Matthew 16:21-28
 
Sunday before last, I talked to you about what it means to have great faith. I am sure every one of you would like to have if not a great faith, but at least stronger faith. We discovered that to have great faith, you need to have a great need. Secondly, we learned that to have great faith, you need to know who can meet your great need. Thirdly, to have great faith, you must be persistent in approaching the one you know will meet your great need. Last but certainly not least, to have great faith, you need to understand that your worthiness or unworthiness has nothing to do with God meeting your need.
 
You might think you don't have a great need to be met. If you believe that, you must remember that the greatest need we need met is forgiveness of our sins, which keeps us from entering God's kingdom. Satan and our sinful self, the old Adam, will tell you that you are okay, for God is love, but that is an old trick to get you away from God. That is why, each Sunday, we publicly confess our sins.
 
We need to ensure that the person we turn to meets our needs is the correct person. That is why last week's sermon looked at the crucial question that Jesus asked his first disciples: "Who do you say that I am?" This is a question that all followers of Jesus are called to answer. Is Jesus a true God and true man, or is he not?
 
Today, I want to look at another crucial question of great faith: What does it mean to follow Jesus? In today's gospel reading, we get a statement from Jesus that answers this question in a very clear, simple, but challenging way. Jesus says: "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me." 
So, today, I want to unpack what Jesus is teaching us about being a baptized Christian.
First, Jesus teaches that we must deny ourselves. This is not a popular teaching in our world today! It never has been. It won't win you an election. It won't make you famous. And we don't hear it anywhere else but in church. So, what is Jesus talking about here? He means that there are times when we must say "no" to ourselves in order to say "yes" to God. It's really that simple.  Let me repeat that. He means that there are times when we must say 'no' to ourselves in order to say 'yes' to God. 
And maybe you even did that today. You attended the worship service this morning when you could or maybe even wanted to do something else this morning. If that is the case, you denied yourself. I also think that, on a deeper level, Jesus is saying that we must deny our false selves in order to be the person God created us to be. What is our false self? It is the self that is governed by the world's standards. It is the self that equates success with happiness. The self that believes that the one who dies with the most toys wins. The self that thinks that things like more money, more power, and more pleasure are what will bring more peace. We will never discover who we truly are until we deny the false self that we all have.
If denying ourselves is unpopular these days, how about taking up our cross as Jesus tells us we must do in this verse? And what does that even mean?
 
If there is one thing I have learned as a pastor, it is that not all crosses we take up are voluntary. Sometimes, a cross is placed on our shoulders that we did not ask for. Such as an unsettling health diagnosis, the death of a loved one, or the loss of a job; all are crosses we don't ask for.
Then there are crosses that we take up voluntarily. For example, we know a certain task will be difficult but choose to do it anyway because we believe God wants us to take it on. Whether it is an involuntary or voluntary cross we take on, when we trust God through faith to be with us through them, we can begin to see God at work in them.
Whether you are to be given a cross to bear involuntarily or voluntarily, we are to accept them gracefully, humbly, and courageously. Accept the cross, trust Jesus, and follow him, for he will ease your burden. When you do this, you will often be telling those around you, especially nonbelievers, more about what you believe than any words you might say.
Paul's Letter to the Romans this morning offers us some specific suggestions on what it might mean to take up our cross. Here are three of them.
 
In verse 12, Paul writes: "Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer." If the cross you are being asked to take up is involuntary, this verse might just speak to you. Can you find a way to rejoice in hope despite your suffering? Can you find joy in the hope of the gospel and in the promise of eternal life? Can you be patient in your suffering? Can you persevere in your prayers?
 
In the next verse, verse 3, Paul writes, "Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers." Maybe your life is going very smoothly right now, but you have a nagging sense that you are being called to do more. Since there is no end to the needs in our world these days, maybe your cross is sacrificial giving to meet the needs of those in need.
 
Skipping down to verse 18: "If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all." Could this be your cross? And isn't this more challenging than ever as we approach the election season? What might it mean for you to decide to live peaceably with all right now? Insofar as it depends on you? Can you disagree with someone and still live peaceably with them? I certainly believe so!
 
I don't know what cross you are being asked to bear right now. But I do know that there is a cross that is yours and no one else's. There was a cross that was only for Jesus. There was a cross that was only for his first disciples. There is a cross that is only for me. If we want to follow Jesus, we must take up our cross.
In doing so, remember that you are not bearing it alone, for Jesus takes it up with you. And that makes the cross bearable, for while the cross feels heavy, he, through his gospel message of love, forgiveness, and the certain hope of life with God, gives you the strength to bear your cross.
And the only way to find this life is to deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Jesus. So let us do so, to the glory of God. Amen

Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost series A
8-20-23
Title: Lord, help me.
Text: Isaiah 56:1,6-8 and Matthew 15:21-28
 
In the Old Testament reading this morning, we see God at work. I do not know if you picked up on it, so before I start talking to you about the Matthew text, I want to share some insights with you on the Isaiah text, for it will help you understand the Matthew reading better.

The first thing we see is that God gathers outcasts, foreigners, and others, those referred to as dogs by the Jewish people (remember the word, dogs), into his chosen people. The second thing we see in the text is that God gathers them on his holy mountain, where they are people of prayer. We see that not only are they people of prayer, but they are also joyful in their worship and good works. Last but certainly not least, God says he will gather others to his holy mountain.

Keep these four things in mind; First, God chooses who will be his people; people like us, people not like us, and people we would consider society's outcasts. Second, God gathers those he chose to be on his holy mountain, his church. Third, his chosen people are prayerful people. And finally, his chosen people are joyful in their words and deeds.

Fast forwarding to today's gospel reading, we see that Jesus has taken his band of followers, who, by the way, for the most part, are people who would probably never have anything to do with others if it were not for Jesus calling them to be his disciples. Judas turns out to be a crook and betrayer. Matthew, the hated tax collector. Simon the Zealot, who was all about overthrowing Roman rule. Luke, the doctor, an educated man, plus some fishermen, who were more than likely hard workers but probably not educated to the region of Tyre and Sidon, pagan port cities.

It is there that we read of the encounter between Jesus, his disciples, and a Canaanite woman, a hated people by the Jews. The disciples want Jesus to tell the woman to go away, to quit bugging them. While it is not recorded for us, I wonder if the disciples were, if not calling her a dog, were thinking it.
Jesus, of course, was not going to send her away, for he came to save the lost. As we read the account of that day, we need to notice that Jesus never calls the woman a dog. He starts out reminding her that his intent, his purpose for living, is only to save the lost people of Israel. She continues to beg, getting down on her knees. She cries out, "Lord, help me." Jesus replies, "It is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs." If this event happened today, I would imagine the day's headlines would be "Jesus calls a woman, a dog."
As it is written down for us, she responds, "Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table." "Jesus answered her, "O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire." And her daughter was healed instantly."
While there are many topics I could talk to you about this morning, it is the woman's great faith and what we could learn from her. What made her faith great? First, she had a great need, a daughter possessed by an evil spirit. So, I would say that if we don't have a great need for Jesus, how can we ever have great faith in him? Throughout the New Testament, there are examples of people in great need who showed great faith. Great faith comes by being 'poor in spirit,' as Jesus pointed out, 'for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.' Thus, great faith requires us to realize that we cannot fix ourselves, our families, and our world alone. We need Jesus.

Secondly, great faith requires knowing who will fill our need for help. There are many people in our world, maybe some of you hearing my message today, who know they need something. But don't know what they need. They try this and that, but nothing seems to satisfy their need. The truth is that each of us has what I call a hole in our heart that can only be filled by Jesus. We try to fill it with all kinds of things, but in the end, nothing works. We need Jesus. 
Thirdly, great faith requires persistent trust. Did you notice that this woman who had a great need, who knew who to turn to for help, would not be deterred by the disciples or Jesus? Jesus ignored her. He doesn't answer her, at least at first, but she keeps trusting that he will help her in her time of need.
Even in the silence of Jesus, she did not give up but persisted. She does not turn away. Instead, she kneels before Jesus and says, 'Lord, help me.' Great faith does not give up even in times of silence from God. I wonder if Jesus intentionally ignored her, not just to see how strong her faith was, but to show his disciples and us some 2000 years later what great and persistent faith looks like.

Great faith, as this account teaches us, requires a great need. It teaches us to trust in Jesus alone to meet our needs. It teaches us to keep trusting in Jesus when he does not seem to be responding to our prayers the way we expect him to respond. You know those times when we decide that since God of the universe, who is all-knowing and all-wise is not doing what we want of him when we want it done, we need to take care of our needs ourselves.
There is one thing that great faith does not require. We find it in the strange twist in this account of Jesus and the Canaanite woman. Jesus gives her an answer she does not want to hear. He tells her that she is not worthy of Jesus answering her prayer. But then he answers it. Her daughter is healed.
We learn in this twist that great faith does not rely on our worthiness, but it is also not stopped on our unworthiness. Great faith depends upon the grace of God toward us. Nothing more. Nothing less.

This account, as it is recorded for us, might not be the most important reading in the Bible, but think of all the people who are hearing this scripture reading today about the encounter between Jesus and the Canaanite woman whose name we don't know, who showed us what it means to have great faith.
​
Christians from all over the world. People of all races and nations. Young and old, believers and unbelievers, sick and well, people like you and me who might be overwhelmed by the events in their lives, families, and world. All people in need of Jesus. I am thankful that I have heard it today. I hope you are thankful too. Amen. 

​Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost series A
8-13-23
Matthew 14:25-27
 
Today’s gospel reading begins with an important word: Immediately. “Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds.” (Matthew 14:25) Immediately after what? Well, immediately after what we heard about last Sunday: the miraculous feeding of the 5,000. After everyone ate their fill and the leftovers were collected, which amounted to twelve baskets full, Jesus immediately made the disciples get into the boat and go ahead of him to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. No time to celebrate this miracle or to relax and enjoy what just happened. Immediately they are sent across the Sea of Galilee. 
I point this out because this word is an important part of this record, the Holy Spirit caused it to be written down for us, and because it reminds us of how life actually works. Many momentous changes in our life, good or bad, happen immediately. 
It can be a good thing – when you learn that you got into the top choice for college, when you learn that you are pregnant, or when a family member calls you with exciting news. These are life-changing events, often, and even though they are positive, they happen immediately. And immediately, our life changed.
These can also be unwelcome events, of course, that happen immediately – like an illness or accident or the death of a loved one. Or even this pandemic. Not long ago, we had never heard of COVID-19. And then, almost immediately, it seems to have taken over our world and our lives. Life often happens that way. 
In the case of the disciples in this gospel reading, the change they experienced was at the command of Jesus, but that doesn’t make it any easier. They are asked to leave Jesus right after he has performed this miracle. And when they do, they find themselves, almost immediately, on a boat battered by the waves, far from land, with the wind against them. 
And we have all been there. We have all been caught in one of life’s storms, being battered by circumstances beyond our control, far from the safety of land, with the wind and seemingly everything else against us. We all get our turn in this particular boat, usually when we least expect it. None of us gets through this life wholly unbattered and unscathed.
And very often, these storms come at us immediately, without warning. When they do, it is worth remembering this story, and very much worth remembering the two other times that the word “immediately” shows up in this Bible account of Jesus, both of which teach us something important about our Christian life. 
The next time the word “immediately” occurs is when Jesus walks on the water to his disciples. It is a famous part of this story that even people unfamiliar with the Bible have heard about – Jesus walking on the water. Of course, many of those people may not know why Jesus walks water. And the reason is simple: Jesus wanted to be with his disciples in their time of trouble. They are caught in this terrifying storm, and Jesus doesn’t want them to be alone. So, he walks out to them. It’s a simple but important detail that this story teaches us: that whenever we are caught in one of life’s storms, we can trust that we are not alone. 
Jesus is with us. We are never alone in that boat as we go through life. God’s Son, our Lord, and Savior, is always with us. That is his promise. He may not immediately calm every storm, but he is with us during every single one. When we feel battered by the waves, far from the safety of land, with the wind blowing strongly against us, we can be assured that Jesus is with us. 
The disciples are not immediately comforted by seeing Jesus walking on the water to them. In fact, they are terrified, thinking that they are seeing a ghost. And so they cry out in fear. And that is exactly when the word “immediately” shows us again. The disciples cried out in fear, and immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” 
And there is an important teaching here about prayer. When life’s storms hit, we can cry out to the Lord in fear, and the Lord will immediately answer that prayer. Being afraid doesn’t mean that we don’t have faith. There is nothing wrong with being afraid. Our Lord wants to hear from us when we are afraid. Cry out in fear when life’s storm hits but make it a prayer. Cry out to the Lord, and he will immediately answer your prayer. Take heart, Jesus says. It is I. Do not be afraid. 
In response to seeing Jesus walking on the water, Peter makes a very strange request. “Lord,” he says, “if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” So Jesus obliges, saying simply: “Come.” Peter gets out of the boat and starts walking on the water toward Jesus! And Peter seems to do this very well until he notices the storm. Then he becomes frightened and begins to sink. 
Now, the storm was there the whole time. So was the water. And so was Jesus. So what changed? Peter’s faith, right? What else is there? That’s the only thing that changed. He began to doubt. He took his eyes off Jesus. He looked at the storm all around him, the wind above him, and the water below him, and he became frightened and started to sink.
Perhaps you’ve had those moments, too. I know that I have. Times when you’ve taken your eyes off Jesus. Looked around at the storms in your lives and started to doubt. If so, remember what happens next because we get one more use of the word “immediately.” In a panic, Peter cries out: “Lord, save me!” And Jesus does. Immediately. He immediately reaches out his hand and catches Peter. No rebuke, no punishment. He catches Peter the moment he cries out to Jesus. 
This is important because sometimes, when we are in one of those storms and forget about Jesus’ promise never to leave us, we can feel a little guilty, and our guilt can sometimes keep us from crying out to Jesus for help. Well, that might make the devil happy, but not Jesus. Jesus wants us to cry out for help whenever we need it, regardless of how faithful or unfaithful we have been lately. And he will immediately catch us. 
After he catches us, he might very well confront us about our lack of faith, just as he does with Peter. But not before. Only after he catches Peter, he says, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”
So, if your boat is a little battered right now – and who isn’t in the midst of a storm called LIFE? – Take heart. If you feel far away from the safety of the land, do not be afraid. And if you have taken your eyes off Jesus, open up those same eyes of faith and see Jesus with you in the midst of that storm. Because he is, he always is. Jesus is with you, on the boat, in the storm, and when you feel like you might be drowning. Jesus is there. 
We can prepare for some of life’s storms. They don’t all hit immediately and unexpectedly. Some are more like hurricanes than tornadoes. But many of the storms of life hit immediately. And when they do, it is good to remember this story. It is good to remember that whenever we cry out in fear to the Lord, he immediately answers our prayers with the promise that he is with us. And when we take our eyes off Jesus and become overwhelmed by what is happening in our life, it is again good to remember that Jesus will be right there to catch us. 
It is no wonder that when all of this was said and done, those in the boat worshiped Jesus, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.” That is why we worship. To take a moment in the midst of our journey through life, to gather on this little boat called faith, and to worship the one who promises to be with us through every storm. Thanks be to God. Amen

We live by the law. We rely on the "rule of law" to have an ordered society. We play by the rules, and we call out the cheaters. We believe in cause and effect because that's how the world works. We look for principles and laws that allow us to understand, predict, and to some measure, gain control over things. We expect to find them too.
 
The law keeps things together and in line. Without the periodic table of the elements, there is no chemistry. Without Newton's laws, there is no physics. Without the universal constants, there is no universe. And as we've discovered, there is no ordered society without laws and the enforcement of those laws.
 
The law is so much a part of our lives that the Gospel—the good news of God's grace in Christ, undeserved, unmerited forgiveness, love to the loveless, grace to the undeserving—is a strange foreign language. You can't run a business, a family, a corporation, a society on grace. Old Adam will take advantage of it every time.
 
The problem comes when we take the horizontal rules of the road and try to run them vertically. God doesn't deal with us by the same set of rules that we use to deal with one another. The law works horizontally—before men. But the law does not work vertically before God. That was the problem with Israel. Israel tried to live by the law before God rather than by grace through faith in the promise. So what happened? When the promise God made to Israel came true, when Israel's Messiah, Jesus Christ, came, most of the Jewish people rejected him. God's pure grace was right before them in the form of Jesus, but Israel clung to law.
 
For the apostle Paul, the issue is deeply personal. It likely involved his own family. He speaks of his great distress, the anguish of heart, sorrow over his fellow Israelites and brothers according to the flesh. Religiously speaking, they had it all—the Torah, the prophets, the promises, the covenants, the worship, status as God's favored nation, his chosen people, the apple of his eye. And yet they did not believe it. Paul was willing to be damned in their place if possible: "For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh" (v 3). But that's not possible. Or necessary. Christ has already done that.
 
It would seem as though the Word of God had failed to deliver the goods. The seed had failed to sprout. The Word returned empty. The Gospel, which Paul called the power of God to salvation to both Jew and Greek, seemed to fail in the synagogue. But that's simply not the case. Faith is not hereditary. Most of you know that through experience. Christian parents don't necessarily bring up Christian children. We bring them to Baptism, and we bring them to church, often against the protests of the old Adam. We teach them. And yet many don't stay with it. Like the Israelites, they had gifts, but faith didn't appear to take hold, or if it did, it withered like a seedling in shallow soil or was choked by the weeds of this world. Paul's way of expressing this is revealing: "Not all Israel is Israel."
 
To underscore this, Paul reminds us of Abraham's two sons, Ishmael and Isaac. Ishmael was the legal firstborn by Hagar, Sarah's servant. He was entitled to the inheritance of the firstborn. The law said so. But Ishmael was conceived out of unbelief, trusting in the law of fertility over the outrageous promise of God that a barren woman in her nineties could conceive and bear a son. The promised Seed of salvation did not fall upon Ishmael but Isaac, the son of the promise, the son born to Abraham and Sarah in their old age. God throws out the rule book and runs things by grace—faith in the promise, not the laws of biology.
 
The same holds for our Lord in his incarnation. A virgin conceived and bore a son. That violates everything you learned about the facts of life. But God doesn't save by the law. God doesn't even act according to the law. He throws out the law and does his own Gospel thing where older women and virgins conceived by the Word and sinners are justified for Jesus' suffering and death on the cross and his resurrection from the grave.
 
A second example: Jacob and Esau. Rebekah was carrying twins, and no one knew it. Before the twins were born, though, before they had a chance to do anything either good or bad, so that the world would understand that God operates by grace and not by the law, God revealed to Rebekah that he had chosen Jacob over Esau, the second born over the firstborn. "Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated" (v 13). This was before Esau sold his birthright for a bowl of stew or before Jacob tricked his blind father into blessing him as the firstborn. Why? "In order that God's purpose of election might continue, not because of works but because of him who calls" (v 11). In a word, grace.
 
Does this mean that Jacob was saved and Esau damned? Does this mean that God elects some to be saved and others to be damned? No! Christ came to be the world's Savior, not select portions of the world. This is where our love for rules and principles betrays us. We read these verses in Romans regarding eternal election to salvation, whereas Paul is speaking of temporal selection in salvation history. It's like a play where everyone gets assigned a part. Some play the good guys, some play the villains, and some are background actors, but they are all essential to the plot. Esau is as important to salvation history as Jacob. Ishmael is as important as Isaac. And even if Ishmael and Esau weren't the sons born of the promise and didn't have the roles in salvation history to be in the line of Christ, they were just as surely saved if they believed the promise. Esau and Ishmael are reminders that God works through grace and not law and that salvation is not about what you do but about what God does in Christ.
 
Jacob and Esau remind us that God's election is grace, a gift, without any merit or worthiness in us. And again, to be treated as firstborn, we must be second born—born from above by water and Spirit (Jn 3:3–8).
 
That you and I are here this morning, alive, upright, breathing, taking in food, gathered in God's name, hearing the Word, and receiving the gifts of Christ, is entirely gift. Grace. You were destined to be here just as you were destined in Christ for salvation before the foundations of the world. You can no more boast of being here and believing than clay can boast of becoming a vase or a cup. The Potter did this, not the clay.
 
So what about Israel, which brought Paul so much anguish of heart? Consider it a work in progress. A majority were hardened, a remnant believed. The hardening of Israel meant a place for the Gentiles in Abraham's family tree. God isn't done yet. Watch and see what he does in our day. He's winnowing, refining, calling; he's doing his master potter thing, forming our clay into the image of his Son.
 
God loves the unloved and the unlovable. He embraces the entire world in the death of his Son. The rule of law works fine in this world, but the rule of law cannot bring you to the kingdom of God. That is entirely by grace through faith in Jesus, who bore the sin of the world on the cross, the sins of Ishmael, Esau, Pharaoh, you, and me. Joined to Christ in baptismal faith, you are born into the "right side of salvation history." The Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, the family of God. Amen.

​Ninth Sunday after Pentecost 07/30/23
Text: Matthew 13: 31-33; 44-52
Title: One Man's Trash is Another Man's Treasure."


Two weeks ago, in the parable of the sower, we found out that we are to throw the seed of God's Word everywhere. We are not to decide who is worthy or not worthy of hearing the Word of God.

In last week's parable, the parable of the wheat and weeds, we found out that it is not our business but God's business to decide who is a child of God and who is not. God will make that final distinction on judgment day.

In today's Gospel, there are several parables, but I will take a closer look at the parable of the treasure found in the field. I have always wondered how you would treat an object you thought was worth only a few dollars after discovering it is worth thousands. Do you lock it away, put it out for all to see, or sell it? Maybe you sit in front of it and admire it. I don't know, but I am sure that you would never look at it in the same way again.

In our reading for today, we see that God's love is hidden in the ordinary things of life. The Kingdom seems to be anything but extraordinary. A mustard seed is tiny. The yeast seems invisible and insignificant. The treasure is hidden in the field. The fine pearl is mixed in with the ordinary pearls. And hidden in the net among all the fish caught is the finest seafood.

Looking at our lives, we see only the mundane, the struggle to live as we would like. As we look back on our lives, we see the what-ifs, the dreams that were not fulfilled, the ambitions that were somehow lost, and the evil in the world. And we think that if there is a God out there whom we can trust, he is surely doing a good job hiding. And that gives us a problem, for we would like to have an active God that we can see, talk to, and maybe even touch.

But we don't have that kind of God, at least we don't think so, because we who are spiritually blind cannot see the Kingdom of God that is at work among us. For the most part, we are unable to see what God is doing right under all noses in the seemingly mundane things of life.

We look in all the wrong places, we read all the latest self-help books, the most popular religious books, and everything but his Word, all in the hope of seeing God at work when in fact, he is at work in our lives.

I am afraid that too often, we do not grasp the significance of a little baby born in a manager. We fail to see that the tiny mustard seed can produce a mighty shrub that spreads its branches far enough for birds to build nests. We fail to see that a little yeast in a huge amount of flour can make a truckload of bread. We fail to see in the weed patch of life a treasure.

This reminds me of a Texan that was mining gold, but he could never get the pit cleared of some sludge. It just kept seeping in and ruining his work. One day a city slicker from the East came by and offered to buy the land; the Texan jumped at the chance and sold it to him. Little did he know that that sludge was an indication of oil, black gold and that the man he sold it to would become wealthy beyond his imagination. That Texan who thought he saw a sucker was blind to the treasure before him.

We, too, are often blinded to God's work because we are caught up in instant gratification, consumerism, and all those things that keep pushing God out of his rightful place in our lives. I am afraid that, for the most part, we are so blind to God's work in our lives that we often do not see what is right before us in his Word and in his Sacraments.

Just because we are often blind to God's work in our lives does not mean that he is blind to our lack of compassion, our grudge-holding, our "they will just have to get over it," or "tough luck" attitude toward those we have hurt, either unintentionally or on purpose. God notices those things in our hearts.
Our present and future would be bleak if God had not come into our world as that seemingly insignificant little baby boy. God could not and did not leave us on the trash heap. He wants to turn us into treasure, for he treasures us.

He comes to us today, not as a person publicly doing miracles, nor does he come in flashes of lightning or thunder, but in the mundane, the broken bread, the wine poured out, the water splashed in baptism.

He is the mustard seed that will grow into a wonderful, almost tree-like bush. He is the treasure worth giving all for. He is the pearl waiting to be discovered. He is all those things, yet he was and still is rejected today. The world was blind to the treasure he is, and so they trashed him by nailing him to a cross.

As awful as that was, God knew his son was not trash but treasure. He knew that through the trashing he was taking, he would take the trash of the world, that is, you and me, and make a wonderful treasure out of us. And what he treasures will not have to worry about being thrown into the trash dump.

Brian Stoffregain, a Lutheran pastor, once told a modern-day parable designed to be told along with the parable of the treasure hidden in the field. It goes like this. A man finds a treasure box hidden in a field. It is too big for him to carry home, so he buries it so no one else can find it. He finds out the field is for sale, so he gets all the money he can get; he even goes into debt to buy the field, for he knows it will be worth it once he has the treasure box.

He digs it up and cleans the treasure box until it shines like gold. It was a beautiful box, heavily carved and made of the finest materials. He spent hours just sitting there admiring it. He talked constantly about his beautiful treasure box. He would wake up in the morning thinking about the box. At night he would lay in bed dreaming about his wonderful treasure box.

Whenever someone would ask him what is in his wonderful treasure box, he would reply, "I don't know. I haven't looked inside. But it sure is a beautiful box, isn't it?" To the day he died, he never looked inside the box. He never found out what great treasure the box contained.

Brian's modern-day parable is about how we in the church often emphasize the box rather than the real treasure inside the box. Too often, we let denominational loyalties, buildings, liturgies, hymn books, creeds, and the confessional books that make up our treasure box become more important than the treasure they contain. In doing so, we let them become barriers to the real treasure, which is the Kingdom of God.

I want to close with this thought. It came to me as I reviewed my sermon this morning. It is time to shift our priorities so that God is at the top of our list instead of wherever we have him now. For we do not possess the Kingdom of God, it possesses us. In fact, God asks us to be slaves to his Kingdom, for it is only when we are slaves to his Kingdom that we will learn how pleasurable it is to start to turn loose of our time and money as we care for those in need of our society, those who need to see and hear of the love of Jesus.

God has given each of you the most precious treasure, the most gift, all bought at the greatest cost; the life of the Son of God, to hold and to share until the end of the age. Let us then respond to his great gift by devoting our lives to thanking, praising, serving, and obeying Him. Amen.
 

​Seventh Sunday after Pentecost, July 16, 2023
The Sower Knows…
Text: Matthew 13:1–9, 18–23
 
Today is the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost. The season of Pentecost leads congregations into growth toward spiritual maturity and fruitful Christian living. This is especially evident in this Sunday’s Gospel. Following the momentous events of Easter, the seed Jesus, once buried in the dark earth was raised becoming the first fruits of the resurrection. The Christian’s life of faith, love, and witness germinates, grows, and multiplies from Christ and his victory over death. we pray that God’s Word would accomplish this in us as we “read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest” the Scriptures as they are sown in our hearts.
 
The Word, that is, Jesus, as the seed, is explicit in the Old Testament Reading, including the assurance that “it shall not return to me empty” (Is 55:11). The seed parables in Matthew 13 show the temporal and eternal fruit that results in the lives of those who hear and understand the Word. Paul’s teaching in the Romans 8 calls our attention to the ultimate fruitful harvest that will be gathered from faithful hearing of the Word at the end of the age (“you will live,” “heirs of God,” Rom 8:13, 17), despite the opposition offered by our own sinful flesh and the enemies of the Gospel (“suffer with him,” 8:17; God’s “steadfast love” revives even “grass” that withers, Ps 103:15–17).
 
V 1 of our Gospel reading starts with “That same day.” The author is taking care to show the continuity of this new section (beginning in 13:1) with what has gone immediately before in chapter 12. In the preceding chapter, Jesus experienced the incomprehension and unbelief of the crowds and identified the Twelve as his true family who listens to his words and do the will of his Father in heaven (12:46–50). Therefore, the “crowds” here (v 2) are not a receptive and understanding audience, which explains Jesus’ explanation and warning later in 13:10–17, and why Jesus explains his parable only to the Twelve in verses 18–23.
 
In Vv 4–7: The flow of the parable starts immediately with seeds falling on the path, on the rocky ground, and among the thorns—exactly the places seeds do not belong and which any normal sower worth his salt would avoid. Only at the end of this account of the sower’s strange work, verse 8, the reader learns that the exercise was not completely pointless. Though it does not amount to a strict calculation, the impression is that no more than a quarter of seeds sown had any chance of germinating and growing to maturity.
 
Vv 9: Jesus’ final statement, “Let the one who has ears hear,” a formula which appears earlier in 11:15 and comes up again later, in 13:43, is crucial to interpreting this parable within the context of this third discourse in Matthew. It is no mere —“So listen up.” It is a prophetic appeal and warning. Not all the seed of the kingdom will grow because they do not all fall on good soil, that is, on hearing ears. Jesus’ words in verses 10–17 are a telling commentary on this saying.
 
Now we move to Vv 18: Following his sermon to the crowd, Jesus speaks here only to his disciples, those who, although not perfectly, truly hear and understand him. He begins, “You all, therefore, hear the parable of the sower.” They are different from the unreceptive crowds.
 
Notice that Jesus does not indicate anywhere precisely what the yield of the seed falling in good soil is in any concrete sense. Yet, following the repeated pattern of sowing and harvesting unlike a farmer’s sowing and harvesting God’s sowing gives a sense of continuous sense of sowing and harvesting. Those who hear in turn become sowers themselves, participating in the work of the kingdom by living and speaking the Word to the world.
 
Vv 19–23: This text is an extended and carefully crafted metaphor (or allegory) explaining the different soil conditions as illustrative of how people receive the Word of God differently. While the parable clearly is speaking of those who have not heard the Gospel message seed, it also speaks to us who in numerous times in our lives, and indeed at various times in any day, correspond to the different soil types described in this parable.
 
Sometimes we may hear the Word, but it bounces off like seed thrown onto a rock-hard path because we do not bother to hear or understand.
 
At other times, we may hear it and receive it at some level, but it fails to take root and dies when our faith is challenged by something.
 
At other times, it is choked out by our worldly concerns and priorities, the busyness and demands of our hectic lives.
 
Yet despite it all, somehow, the miracle does happen. God’s seed-sowing work in peoples’ lives works out, through the Spirit’s power, into fruitfulness (Rom 8:14). Verse 23 notably describes the process of the “good soil hearer” simply listening, understanding and beginning the process of growth toward fruit-bearing. This is all described in an expedited, “time-lapse” style narrative, almost as if the fruit-bearing process begins immediately. There are no complications or impediments—simply the seed finding the soil where it can grow as intended by the sower and producing its increase.
 
Because of how this parable is constructed, we are tempted to assume that its weight of interpretation should lie with the seed's progress after it is sown. This precious seed of God’s life-giving Word must, we know, be received and nurtured by hearing ears and understanding hearts. Even though it is often wasted, as sinful human beings ignore and filter it out of their lives, we know that the seed of God’s Word is something of great value for which we, the receivers, naturally wish to take on responsibility, so that the seed grows well and produces fruit. We are called to work in the Lord’s kingdom, right? So there is work for us to do here. We all know that having viable seed is one thing, but where it is planted is the other half of grain farming. The natural question arises: What kind of soil is in my life? While this aspect of the parable is not to be ignored, it is not at the very heart of the story.
 
As in all the parables, Jesus is, rhetorically speaking, the “omniscient narrator.” His telling indicates that the sower in this story is no clueless amateur but knows what he is doing. He is well aware, even as he throws his seed into all the fruitless corners of the field as well as into the good soil, that much of that precious seed will die where it lands.
 
He knows already that only some of it, perhaps only a little of it, will reach good soil and come to harvest and that even this harvest will vary significantly in its fruitfulness. Yet he does not hold back one seed. It is hardly a cost-effective exercise.
 
There is a delicious irony here in this text. Jesus is himself that very sower as he speaks this parable to the unhearing crowds on the shore. He is himself enacting this parable, as he tells it. How many in this unhearing crowd will truly listen and have the seed of the kingdom take deep root in their lives so that it grows up and bears fruit? Going by the “rocky and thorny ground” Jesus encounters in chapter 12, very few, one would have to think.
 
This is why Jesus speaks in parables to the crowds but explains the parable’s meaning only to the Twelve, whose eyes and ears are “blessed” because, unlike the crowds, they do see and hear, although not perfectly (13:16–17). They are the true target audience here; they will be sent out to preach and sow the kingdom in rocky places and weed-infested fields as well as the good soil of the world. They are taught the “farming” of God’s kingdom and its dynamics. They are being shown that normal commercial-style measurable criteria do not apply. Investment and return in the kingdom do not work the way they do in the world. The world and, unfortunately too many Christian congregations think: avoid risk, make what you have last, and count the cost and reward. But the Gospel is not like this. It is not we who make the Gospel last or count! The seed is not ours but God’s. It is not like the predictable agriculture of the natural world. It is supernatural.
 
The kingdom of God is thrown into every corner of the world, even in places where it will be trodden thoughtlessly underfoot. What is the point of our sowing the Word of God in these post-Christian days in the West? Nobody listens or cares, it so often seems. But “the sower” of this parable knows more than we do. He knows that God’s Word never goes out only to return empty but always produces the fruit he intends even when it looks hopeless to human eyes (Is 55:10–11).
 
The sower knows there is good soil out there, hearts that miraculously hear and receive God’s Word and grace by the Spirit’s power and bear fruit. And how! The kingdom of God is not like the earthly sower’s seed supply. It is inexhaustible and superabundant. The sowing of the kingdom does not know any holding back or staying “safe.” It is always worth it, for God, as we are told in Ephesians 3:20, “Now to him, that is God, who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever! Amen.