Category: Sermons

I.
This past week saw the observance and celebration of two festive national holidays: Dominion Day in Canada, and Independence Day in the United States. One celebrates a peaceful transition from being British colonies to becoming a Canadian dominion. The other celebrates a violent rebellion against a tyrannical oppressor. Over the years, people of both countries have served with courage, selflessness and sacrifice so that we might enjoy all sorts of freedoms, not the least of which is the freedom to gather here openly in worship of the one true God.

Sometimes, we hear the stories of courage and heroism in service to our country. Often we don’t. Sometimes, it’s because the heroes are quiet, humble individuals. Sometimes, it’s because the security around the events is so tight that the heroes are never made public, their medals locked in a safe and never to see the light of day. Sometimes, it’s because it’s a matter of standing guard so that the enemy has no easy route of attack. But freedom requires ongoing vigilance; and when we forget the ongoing strength and stamina needed to maintain our freedom and safety, we’re likely to start to take that freedom for granted, to consider it no big thing.

Given today’s Gospel lesson, we might say the same about the work of the Church. Strengthened and protected by her Lord, it’s the Church that stands guard and fends off sin, death and devil. It’s the work of the Lord through His Church which ultimately rescues from hell, from eternal chains and the loss of freedom forever. In a world beset by darkness and evil, Christ gives to one institution power over the devil himself. You guessed it: the Church. That’s you and me.

And that’s huge. It is a privilege in which we ought to rejoice and a responsibility which we ought to take seriously. However, the devil, world and sinful flesh all work hard to infiltrate, to lull, and to make us think that nothing special is going on. Don’t listen to them, though: listen to Christ in our Gospel lesson.

As we saw last Sunday, Jesus has set His face toward Jerusalem: He is on His way to the cross. As He makes His way there, He sends out 72 of His followers in pairs to every town along the way, and He gives them their marching orders. They’re to pack light, with no moneybag, knapsack or extra sandals. They’re to move quickly to their destinations, devoting no time to idle conversation on the road. When they arrive at a house, they are to greet it with peace; and if they are welcomed, they are to stay. They’re to speak the message that Jesus gives them. They are to heal the sick. If they are not welcome in a town, they are to leave, but not before declaring once again the message Jesus gives them.

The message is simple enough: “The kingdom of God has come near.”

If you ask me, it doesn’t look all that spectacular, this scene of two guys without any luggage doing a little talking and a little sick-care. Their speech isn’t even original: they’re repeating the words of another. Does what they do really matter?

Absolutely.

Listen to the consequences for those who reject the message: Jesus says, “I tell you, it will be more bearable on that day for Sodom than for that town.” And if Capernaum rejects them, Jesus says that the town “shall be brought town to Hades.” But it’s not just the dire warnings: there’s also the positive results. The 72 return to Jesus and say, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!” Jesus confirms, saying “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven.” They’ve spoken His Word, and the sick have been healed. They’ve even made demons flee. Furthermore, Jesus tells them, “I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall hurt you.”

Really? This is about the eternal destiny of towns-full of people? It looks so simple. It looks like pairs of guys walking from town to town, traveling light and talking a little, repeating what Jesus told them to say. It’s not exactly the sort of drama that makes for a Hollywood blockbuster.

It may look pretty tame, but it’s not about the look. People are healed and demons are sent packing. This is stuff that only God can do, which is exactly what’s going on. The key to what’s going on is this: “The one who hears you hears Me, and the one who rejects you rejects Me, and the one who rejects Me rejects Him who sent Me.”

It’s the Lord who works these miracles, and He does so by His Word. And in His wisdom, according to His plan, He deploys these 72 to speak His Word. Sent by Him and speaking His Word, they’re speaking on His authority. They speak His Word of grace, and His grace gets rid of sin and its wages. They speak that Word to those who are sick, and they’re healed. They speak it to those who are possessed by demons, and the demons flee away. These 72 wield extraordinary power as they speak God’s Word as He intended. But it is His Word and it is His power: they’re simply the messengers, and the power doesn’t belong to them. Thus Jesus tells them, “Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” The best news for them is not that Christ has used them to deliver that grace to others: the messenger can himself be an unbeliever and lost, even if he’s teaching the Word correctly to others. No, the best news for them is that Christ has used His Word to deliver His grace to them.

So, 72 guys in 36 pairs, walking from town to town and talking. But their talk is the Word of God, and by it even the devil is sent packing.

II.
The Lord entrusts that Word to His Church. He entrusts His Word to His Church here in Edmonton. The Lord has not changed, and His Word has not lost its power. So here, when the Word is preached and the Sacraments administered according to that Word, when the Word is sung and spoken and confessed and shared, the Lord is still working those same miracles here as He did through the 72 in our text: sins are forgiven, disease defeated and even the devil is chased away.

Sins are forgiven. That’s the key to the other miracles. Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh, dwelt among us and went to the cross to die for our sins. Risen again, He alone has the power to forgive, and His Word is the means by which He does the work. Only forgiveness delivers from sin. Therapy can teach you to live with it, time can get you to forget it and the right company will help you deny it’s wrong, but only forgiveness can take the sin away. That’s the forgiveness given by Christ in His Word—the Word that He gives to you to speak.

Therefore, only that forgiveness can deliver from hell. Armies can stop invasions and organizations can provide relief from all sorts of hellish, disastrous situations on this planet, but man is powerless against hell. It’s inexorable, far too powerful. But the Word of Christ looses sins and sets you free; and if you are free of sin, the gates of hell are closed and the gates of heaven are opened. Only God’s Word can do that—the Word that He entrusts to His Church. Here.

That Word heals, too. It delivers from disease. Medicine can help with this life: often when a disease strikes, doctors can put a stop to it—and for the work of medical professionals we give great thanks, because they are God’s gifts for the preservation of health and life in this world. But where medicine puts a stop to one disease, another will eventually come; and if it is stopped, another will follow. That’s the ongoing battle of preserving health in this world, and eventually one disease or other injury wins and brings death. But the Word of Christ delivers from disease—not always immediately, but ultimately. When the 72 in our text spoke, people were healed on the spot. This was not to teach you that God will always heal immediately whenever His Word is spoken, but that His Word has the power to deliver you ultimately from all disease, according to His will. This is finally done on the Last Day, when the Lord raises you from the dead. No matter how hard man tries, he can’t beat death—the best he can do is postpone it as the Lord allows. But the Word of Christ we speak here gives eternal healing and everlasting life. That’s the Word that Jesus entrusts to His Church.

That Word delivers from the devil, too. It sends Satan fleeing away. We’ve recently heard a Gospel lesson about demon possession, and how those possessed were terrifying to those around them—remember, for instance, the possessed man who lived among the tombs. What can man do to defeat Satan? Usually, all man can do is deny Satan as an old fable, which suits the devil just fine. There are some religions that are all about appeasing the devil: if you can’t beat him, the best you can do is try to strike up a good relationship. But man can’t defeat Satan. Christ can, and has: He defeated him at the cross when He died for the sins of the world. See, when Jesus took away all of your sin, He robbed the devil of everything he could use against you. Satan is called “the Accuser” for good reason, because Scripture records him going before God and accusing, saying, “So-and-so is sinful and unholy. He can’t be with you because of his sin, so he’s got to be mine instead.” But Christ died for all of those sins, took them all away. Satan has nothing left to accuse with—he’s got no evidence because Jesus took it all away. Thus the Gospel makes the devil fall from heaven, because he’s got no accusations to bring against the people of God anymore. The Word of Christ defeats the devil and sends Him packing. That’s the Word that Jesus entrusts to His Church.

This Divine Service may look no more remarkable than 36 pairs of men walking from village to village in our Gospel lesson. The view from the pulpit is that it’s about 10:30 on a Sunday morning with a blend of relatively harmless looking people. But the Lord is present here with His Word. And as long as He is present with His Word, sin, disease, death, hell and Satan are all vanquished. They don’t stand a chance, because Christ has defeated them all.

Name any other institution on earth where sin, disease, death, hell and Satan are all beaten. There isn’t one. The Church is the Lord’s outpost and fortress against all of His enemies on earth. Many would look at this service with contempt, but don’t be deceived: the proclamation of the Gospel and the singing of Christ’s praises are what hold back sin and devil, because the Lord restrains such evil by His Word. The prayers prayed by the people of God in Jesus’ name are powerful acts because they entrust all our cares to God and call upon Him to act according to His Word.

But all of that said, here is something better: “Do not rejoice in this, but rejoice that your names are written in the book of life.”

When troops stand guard against invading forces, they know that they may have to sacrifice their lives as part of their service. It is not so for you: you do not fight sin, death and hell with the understanding that you may have to sacrifice yourself to God’s wrath to save others. That was for Christ to do on the cross, and He has sacrificed Himself for the sins of the world. As you are one entrusted with His Word, you wield that weapon against evil with the knowledge that you do not have to die to save others. No, as you rejoice in the power of the Word, you know that it is for you, too. By His Word, Christ declares that He has written your name in the Book of Life. Salvation is yours.

The devil hates the Church, but he knows that the Church will never perish. Since he can’t destroy either Christ or the Church, that leaves you. He’s fallen from heaven and can’t accuse you before God, so he’ll whisper accusations in your ear. He’ll keep reminding you of past sins, haunting you with past guilt, attempting to persuade you that there’s no forgiveness for you, that you’re lost. But you’re not lost because Christ has won. So against the devil’s temptations, you hold up Christ and His Word, remind the devil that he’s the loser and say, “Jesus’ Word of grace has sent you fleeing often before, and He has given that grace to me. I am not yours, Satan, because I am His. He’s written my name in the Book of Life.”

It is the same when the devil tries to overwhelm you with grief or fear of sickness or death or hell. All of these are enemies far too great for you and me, but it is not left to you and me to fight them. Christ is the One who has fought these foes, and He has defeated them. He tells you so in His Word. So instead of trying to defend yourself, you speak His victorious, grace-giving Word. Sickness, death and hell will not get the best of you. Sickness and death will plague for a while, but they’re already beaten, too. Christ will raise you up to everlasting life, because your name is written in the book of life.

The devil will keep on attacking, along with his allies of sin, death and hell, until the Last Day. Although the war is won, the battle rages—and it often seems like evil has the upper hand. But here, and now, by the power of God’s Word, evil is beaten back once again. It cannot overcome you, because Christ does more than entrust the Church with His Word for others. He speaks it to also to you. He tells you that your name is written in the Book of Life, because you are forgiven for all of your sins.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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I. A Face Set, and What Follows
The Gospel of Luke can be divided into two parts. The first part begins with the announcement and birth of John the Baptist, the forerunner, and then the birth of Jesus. Today’s Gospel lesson starts the second part of Luke’s Gospel. It’s a serious transition, especially considering what’s just happened. Jesus has just come down from the Mount of Transfiguration. He’s been transformed before Peter, James and John so that His robes are as white as lightning. He’s been joined by Moses and Elijah, who have spoken with Him about His exodus, His departure. And His Father has just testified, “This is My Son, My chosen One; listen to Him.” Next thing you know in Luke chapter 9, Jesus comes down from the mountain and heals a boy of an unclean spirit. Then things start to change, because He tells the disciples that He will soon be delivered into the hands of men.

It’s only a couple of verses after that that we arrive at our lesson for today. The days draw near for Him to taken up—the crucifixion is getting close, so He sets His face to go to Jerusalem. He sets His face: once upon a time, Isaiah prophesied about the Savior, “I gave my back to those who strike, and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard; I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting. But the Lord GOD helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame” (Isaiah 50:6-7 ESV). That prophesied suffering is near, waiting in Jerusalem, and Jesus sets out to meet it for your salvation.

His time to prepare His disciples is growing short, too; so in our text for today, He does much to teach them about being His disciples.

He sends messengers ahead to a Samaritan village, to prepare the way of the Lord so that the people are ready to receive Him when He arrives. But when Jesus draws near, they people don’t want Him there. His face is set toward Jerusalem, and they want nothing to do with that. “Move along, Jesus. Go away.” James and John take exception: these Samaritans have just rudely snubbed the Son of God, so they ask Jesus, “Lord, do you want us to tell fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” Jesus says no: in fact, He rebukes James and John. Following Jesus isn’t about destroying anyone who doesn’t fall in behind or making their lives miserable so they regret their mistake—that’s the way of worldly kings. Instead, Jesus leaves the Samaritans be, alive and well and—God willing—ready to hear His Word another day.

From the Samaritans and James and John, we’re reminded that following Jesus isn’t about getting your way. It’s about patiently, faithfully sticking to God’s Word, even when you’re opposed for it. It’s trusting that Jesus is the Lord, even when it seems like He is not Lord to others.

As Jesus and His disciples move along, a man approaches and says, “I will follow you wherever you go.” It’s a rocky start to a quick conversation. “I will follow you?” Students don’t choose their rabbis: rabbis select their students. None of the Twelve disciples chose Jesus, but He chose each one. He called them and said to them, “Follow Me.” Furthermore, from Jesus’ answer it seems that the man has a pretty rosy picture: rather than look at the face set to go to Jerusalem, the man is thinking of miracles and wonders, that following Jesus will mean peace and prosperity, home and property. But the picture Jesus paints isn’t so pretty. In fact, He says, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.”

Following Jesus isn’t about gathering comfort and wealth on earth. If the man is to follow Jesus wherever He goes, he’s going to follow Him to Gethsemane, to the Praetorium, to Calvary and into the tomb.

A verse later, Jesus invites a man, saying, “Follow Me.” The man is beckoned by the Savior, called to be His disciple; and while he’s not opposed, he has some loose ends to tie up first: “Lord, let me first go and bury my father.” Jesus’ answer sounds less than sensitive as He responds, “Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.”

This exchange leaves some loose ends: some have pointed out that there’s no proof that the man’s father is anywhere near death, that the man is saying, “I will follow You, but You must take second place to my father.” It might be that he wants to preserve family peace, to follow Jesus only after his unbelieving father is dead and no longer knows. Whatever is true at home, Jesus makes this clear: one is to have no other gods before Him, including those people we hold dear. It is time to move from death to life, and that life is found and given in the proclamation of the kingdom of God. Ironically, that proclamation of life will be about Jesus who sets His face and goes to His death to deliver the world from death to life.

From this we’re reminded that following Jesus isn’t about living the same way as usual with an added bit of joy. It’s about leaving death behind and having life in Christ, even if that life in Christ seems strange to those closest to you, to those whose respect you desire the most. Even if it means you’re a foreign missionary to family and friends.

There’s one more would-be disciple in the text, another one who wants to choose Jesus rather than Jesus choosing Him. He says, “I will follow You, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus responds, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” Perhaps the man’s idea of farewell is to spend weeks or months tying up some loose ends, getting the harvest in and whatever else, before he actually follows Jesus. But that’s in stark contrast to the Twelve disciples who have followed Him from the beginning. Remember when Jesus called Peter, Andrew, James and John to be His disciples? “Immediately they left their nets and followed Him” (Matthew 4:20). Remember, after the resurrection, when Jesus said to Peter, “when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go” (John 21:18 ESV). That’s discipleship—following Jesus faithfully even when you are taken where you do not want to go.

From all of this we’re reminded that following Jesus isn’t a casual, “I’ll follow you when there’s nothing else on the schedule” sort of deal. It’s “follow now.” It’s “follow the Son whose face is set on Jerusalem.” It’s “cast aside every idol, take up your cross and follow Him.”

See, this is an urgent matter—and it is a matter of life and death. One is either dead in sin or alive in Christ; and if you are going to cling to other things and be a disciple of convenience, then you are not a follower of the One who sets His face and goes to the cross for your salvation. That’s what Jesus teaches His disciples as the second half of the Gospel of Luke begins.

II. Following Jesus Today
It is not easy to be a follower of Jesus. In fact, it’s beyond you from the start. You could never be a follower of Jesus if He did not say, “Follow Me.” But so He has. He said, “Follow Me” when He said, “I baptize you.” He repeats it whenever He says through a pastor’s mouth, “I forgive you all of your sins.” So that you might be a follower of Jesus, the Holy Spirit has called you by the Gospel, enlightened you with His gifts, sanctified and kept you—and continues to keep you—in the one true faith. It is only because Jesus has called you that you can be His follower in the first place.

And now that you are His disciple, it is hard to remain a follower. Jesus teaches this in the Gospel lesson in a rather radical way: either you follow Him down the road to the cross or you don’t. That call to discipleship remains, but it’s different. Jesus doesn’t call you to leave everything you have and faithfully follow Him to the top of some mountain or some remote commune. Rather, He calls you faithfully to follow Him exactly where you are.

That sounds less intimidating, but it can be just as difficult. The Lord has given to you people and things that you value very highly where you are, and you are set free from sin to be a steward of those things and a servant to those people. In fact, that stewardship and service are part of following Him. However, you will always be tempted to turn these very things into idols that you would follow first, before Jesus. One measure of this is to examine how you spend your time when these gifts of God interfere with worship and prayer, or how you devote spare time and resources when they interfere with your tithes and offerings.

There’s another, more painful measure of all of this: it is the measurement of loss. It is easy to be a follower of Jesus when it is given you to enjoy the gifts that he gives: a job you love, people you love, a home you enjoy, security, family, health. But remember: the things that you treasure most are also the most likely things to become idols. If you are honest with yourself, you’ll honestly admit that there are some things that would make it very hard to follow Jesus if you lost them. If you had to grieve the loss of that person or that thing, it would be difficult to follow Jesus because you would feel betrayed, because you’d feel that Jesus wasn’t all that powerful, or perhaps because you just didn’t see the point in doing anything like following anymore.

There are gifts of God that I hold dear and treasure thankfully, and I know that were I to lose them, I would be upset with God. That is not to my credit: it is simply a recognition of my sinful flesh. The temptation to stop following would be there, and it would only be by His ongoing grace and mercy that I would continue to follow. The same is true for you. We can see people and things. We can’t see Christ and salvation. We usually treasure more the things we’re given to see, not the things we’re given to believe.

So the law lessons of discipleship are given in this text for you and me. Facing loss and hurt, you’ll be like James and John, wanting to call down fire from heaven on your enemies—wanting the Lord to knock some heads together and prove He’s boss right now. You’ll want to make your following Him conditional on Him healing right now, restoring peace right now, returning what was lost right now. But when James and John tried to run discipleship that way, Jesus rebuked them. He kept His face set toward Jerusalem and kept going to the cross. Hard as it is, following Jesus doesn’t mean we get to hold onto things in a world that is passing away. It means that, because Jesus set His face and went to Jerusalem, you’re not going to pass away. Despite your sin and your presence in this world of loss, you’re going to live forever.

Tempted to idolize possessions and people, you’ll be like the three who wanted to follow Jesus in our text. You’ll want to add “as long as” and make discipleship conditional: I will follow “as long as I may keep the conveniences and schedule that I like,” “as long as it does not disturb the family peace,” “as long as the Lord does not permit me to lose what I value most,” “as long as I don’t have to leave where I am,” “as long as it doesn’t conflict with my plans.” Again, the devil doesn’t play fair, and he will take the gifts of God you value most and turn them into false gods to lead you away from Jesus.

The Lord may permit such things to be kept. He may permit them to be lost. But either way, He would bid you to remain His disciple. His follower. His beloved child, redeemed by His blood.

See, Jesus set His face and went to His death for you. Where you are half-hearted in your attempts to follow Him, He wholeheartedly shed His blood and breathed His last on the cross for you. Where you would value people and things over following Him, the sinless Son of God gave up everything—even His own life—in order to redeem you, to save you from idolatry, to make you His follower forever.

This news of His selfless sacrifice is not a guilt trip, a way to beat you up with the news that He’s better at this than you. It’s good news, the good news that your faith is not built upon your commitment to Jesus. It is founded on Jesus’ commitment to you. Let me say that again: your faith is not built upon your commitment to Jesus. It is founded on Jesus’ commitment to you. And where daily, in your weakness, you will falter in your following Him, He does not cease to offer you grace upon grace so that you might be His forever.

Dear friends, give thanks for the Savior you witness in our text as He somberly, purposefully sets His face and sets out for Jerusalem. It is for your salvation, for your eternal deliverance that He does so. He has died, and He is risen for you. The face once set on Jerusalem now shines upon you, to be gracious unto you. He gives you all good things, both people and possessions; and where He permits you to hold onto them, give thanks for His kindness and follow Him. Where there is loss, give thanks that the time of loss will end for His sake—that although all things in this world eventually comes to an end, you will not. Your Savior, Jesus, calls you to follow Him, and gives you forgiveness and life to be His follower forever. So you delight to follow Him, because you are forgiven for all of your sins. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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Dear Friends in Christ Jesus,

“I believe that Jesus Christ has redeemed me, a lost and condemned person, purchased and won me from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil.” So the catechism’s explanation of the Second Article of the Creed sums up the very heart and centre of the Christian faith. Today’s Gospel reading on Jesus’ healing of a demon-possessed man expounds on the third evil from which we are saved—the power of the devil—in a most dramatic way.

After Jesus had just said to a sinful woman while reclining at the table in the house of a Pharisee by the name of Simon, “Your sins are forgiven”; those who were present said among themselves, “Who is this, who even forgives sins?” And then, in the verses just previous to our text, we read that after Jesus calms the raging sea by the power of His Word, the disciples are filled with great fear and say to one another, “Who is this, that He commands even winds and water, and they obey Him?” Well, they are about to find out who this Jesus is in, of all places, “the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee.”

“The country of the Gerasenes” was a region of settlements inhabited not by Jews but by Greek-speaking Gentiles. That this Jewish prophet would sail across the Sea of Galilee to this region where unclean, unbelieving Gentiles lived—“a rebellious people who walk in a way that is not good, following their own devices,” to use the words from today’s Old Testament Reading—is most significant. For the message that Jesus “has purchased and won me from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil” is not confined to the Jews or to one particular group, region, or country, but is meant for all people in all parts of the world. As St. Paul puts it in today’s Epistle Reading: “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

And that is why, when Jesus steps out of the boat, He is immediately confronted by a man possessed by demons who “would break the chains and shackles” with which the people had tried to bind him and who “for a long time had worn no clothes and had not lived in a house but among the tombs.” After all, what was behind the false beliefs and worship practices of those first-century people from “the country of the Gerasenes”? Who is behind the immoral, idolatrous, evil, and wicked ways of twenty-first-century people here in this nation? Is it not the author of sin, the agent of death, “the father of lies, the murderer from the beginning,” as Jesus calls him—that is, the devil?

This is why St. Peter writes in his first epistle these words: “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” Or, as St. Paul says in Ephesians: “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”

Although the people who heard Jesus forgive the sins of that sinful woman in Simon the Pharisee’s house questioned among themselves who this Jesus is, and although the disciples wondered the same after He calmed the raging sea, there is someone who knows exactly who He is.

We read: “When the man from the city who had demons saw Jesus, he cried out and fell down before him and said with a loud voice, ‘What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg You, do not torment me. For He had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man.”

The writer of Hebrews declares, “the children share in flesh and blood, Jesus Himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death He might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery”. These unclean spirits that possessed this man—more than one, for our text says: “Jesus asked him, ‘What is your name?’ And he said, ‘Legion,’ for many demons had entered him”—“believe and shudder” to use the words of St. James. They believe that this Jesus is “true God, begotten of the Father from all eternity,” and then shudder—shudder because He is about to destroy them and their wicked works, shudder because they are powerless before Him, shudder because they are about to be cast into the abyss of hell.

“Now a large herd of pigs was feeding there on the hillside, and they begged Him to let them enter these. So He gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the pigs, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and were drowned.” This dramatic account—of unclean spirits entering unclean pigs (“deviled ham,” as it were) and plunging over the cliff into the lake where the unclean pigs drown and the unclean spirits descend into the abyss—must have been especially meaningful to those early Christians who first heard and read of this event. After all, for those believers in Jesus who were being persecuted by the Roman government—oppressed and threatened by the famed and feared Roman legions—and considering that the favourite food ration of those legions was pork, swine’s flesh, and that the insignia on the shields of the Tenth Roman Legion stationed in Judea was a wild boar, what were they to make of Jesus commanding this demon—whose name is Legion—to come out of the man and enter some two thousand pigs, which then plunged into the watery abyss?

Why, just this—as Martin Luther puts it in his famous hymn:

“Though devils all the world should fill,
All eager to devour us,
We tremble not, we fear no ill;
They shall not overpow’r us.
This world’ s prince may still
Scowl fierce as he will,
He can harm us none.
He’ s judged; the deed is done;
One little Word can fell him.”

“And when the herdsmen saw what had happened, they fled and told it in the city and in the country. The people went out to see what had happened and how the demon-possessed man had been healed. Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Him to depart from them, for they were seized with great fear.”

Now, we might well understand why those herdsmen whose pigs were floating around dead in the lake would be rather upset, but why all the people? Well, because they, too—like this demon—“believe and shudder.” They believe that this Jesus is much more than just some Jewish prophet; after all, He did something their soothsayers and incantations, their chains and shackles, could not do—He healed this demon-possessed man.

Moreover, Jesus did all of this not in the land of the Jews, but right here in their own country. And so, they shudder, filled with great fear—fear that this Jesus will cast out of them their own demons, which they rather enjoy and embrace: their wine, women, and song; their love of and preoccupation with money and pleasure; their religious beliefs and practices, to use the words from the Old Testament Reading, “of sacrificing in gardens and making offerings on bricks; of sitting in tombs and spending the night in secret places; of eating pig’ s flesh and broth of tainted meat in their vessels.”

And filled with fear over what the one, holy, almighty God will do to them because of their spiritual uncleanness; shuddering over the possibility that this Jesus will cast them into the abyss along with the demons and pigs; they “ask Jesus to depart from them.”

But there is one individual who is not filled with fear, one person who sees and regards Jesus as a loving Saviour, as the Redeemer from sin, death, and the devil—“the man from whom the demons had gone out and who is sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind.” And
that is the change that Jesus also works in the hearts and minds of people like you and me who are oppressed by the devil—what He works in us through the power of His authoritative Word. So St. Paul puts it in 2 Corinthians: “The god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the Gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. But
God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”

And in a way very similar to this man, we, too, have been exorcised of our demons. In the Order of Holy Baptism, for instance, we hear these words: “The Word of God teaches that we are all conceived and born sinful and under the power of the devil until Christ claims us as His own.”

As a result, we are now clothed and in our right minds—clothed with the righteousness and holiness of Jesus Himself, which covers the nakedness of our sins and all our uncleanness; in our right minds, made right by sitting at Jesus’ feet and hearing His Word; minds that know the love, grace, and mercy that the one true God has shown us and bestows upon unclean sinners in His own Son; minds that now partake not of the ‘deviled ham sandwiches’ of this world but of the heavenly food of the holy Body and Blood of the Lamb of God, who has overcome sin, death, and the devil by His sacrificial death and resurrection from the dead.

Now, as Jesus gets back into the boat and is about to cross the lake and return to Galilee, this man begs that he might go along with Him—echoing, as it were, the desire of the apostle Paul who said, “I would rather depart and be with Christ Jesus.” But as with Paul who said, “God called me by His grace, and was pleased to reveal His Son to me, in order that I might preach Him among the Gentiles”, so also with this man. For Jesus is not going to leave these people in the country of the Gerasenes to their demons. Instead, He says to him, “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.” And with the result that “he went away, proclaiming throughout the whole city how much Jesus had done for him.”

The Holy Spirit blessed this man’s proclamation of Jesus Christ—this man whom we might call ‘the first apostle to the Gentiles’—for the next time Jesus returns to this neck of the woods, about six months later, we are told that a large crowd came out to sit at His feet and hear His Word.
In fact, from early church history we learn that by the second century a large number of Christians inhabited this “country of the Gerasenes,” and that a representative from the church at Gerasa would participate in that church council in Nicaea where, on the basis of the Scriptures, was formalized the answer to that question concerning who this Jesus is—the Nicene Creed that we confess still today: “I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, who for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven.”

In this dramatic event we have, in its simplest form, the commission Jesus has also given to each one of us at our baptism, the task He again gives to us this day: “Now that I have redeemed you from sin, death, and the devil with My holy precious blood and My innocent suffering and death, return to your home and tell others around you how much I have done for you. Go back to that station in life, that vocation into which I have placed you and there, in word and in deed, ‘proclaim the wonderful deeds of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light’.” In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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In the name of the Holy Trinity – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

We Pray: May the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, our Strength and our Redeemer. Amen

Dear Friends in Christ,

‘It doesn’t matter what you believe, as long as you are sincere in what you believe.’ That’s a popular opinion that you hear these days, isn’t it? But when you stop to think about, it makes no sense. ‘I sincerely believe that it doesn’t matter if I were to drive down the highway at 150 kilometers-an-hour after consuming a six-pack of beer.’ I wonder, however, if the RCMP would think that it doesn’t matter?! Or take this popular one: ‘I believe in God . . . as I understand God to be.’ Or this one: ‘I believe that all religions are just different paths to God.’ But is this really so? After all, contrast those popular statements and common ideas with what the Athanasian Creed, that we confess on this Trinity Sunday, says. “Who-ever desires to be saved must believe” . . . this. And then a bunch of things are said: “One God in Trinity and Trinity in Unity. Equal in glory and majesty. Uncreated, infinite, eternal, almighty. The Son not created but begotten. The Holy Spirit neither created nor begotten, but proceeding.” And further: “Jesus Christ at the same time both God and man, who suffered for our salvation, rose again from the dead, ascended into heaven, and will come to judge the living and the dead.” that’s what we confess.

That’s what we believe. And do you know what? It matters! But why does it matter? That’s a question many are asking these days. And some would say, ‘It doesn’t matter!’ It doesn’t matter to the millions of people in Ukraine who have lost everything as a result of the devastation caused by the Russian invasion of their country. It doesn’t matter to those who are mourning the loss of a loved one, or to those who lost their job and don’t know how they’re going to make ends meet. It doesn’t matter to those whose marriage has fallen apart, or to those who received the dreaded news of cancer from their doctor after a check-up. It doesn’t matter when inflation and covid continue to dominate not only the news, but our daily lives.

Cold, hard facts like the Athanasian Creed don’t matter when the rubber of faith meets the hard road of life. And the church, therefore, needs to be more loving and accepting, more practical and less doctrinal – so some would say . . . even many within the church.

But these practical matters are precisely why it does matter! Love and doctrine are not opposites . . . or at least they should not be. For since the Scriptures tell us that “God is love,” then to know God is to know love. Conversely, to not know God is to not know love. And when the Athanasian Creed says “whoever desires to be saved must believe”. . . this, and this, and this; it says that not because you have to pass a test and have all the right knowledge in order to get into heaven – although that’s probably how it sounds sometimes. No, it matters because to know God correctly is to know His love for you . . . to know that in love God died for you.

The Christian faith, you see, is not about good people doing good things in good ways in order to have a good life. Instead, it’s about God, who alone is good, dying (on a cross of all things) for no-good sinners. It’s about a loving God doing good things for un-loveable people. More specifically, it’s about God the Father giving His own Son into death as the payment price for the sins of the entire world, and who then gives the Holy Spirit to join us to Himself both now and forever.

That’s who God is and that’s what God does. The two go together. And you either have both, or you have neither. So St. John puts it in his First Epistle: “This is love: not that we have loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Whoever, therefore, confesses that Jesus is the Son of God, God abides in him, and he in God.” And that’s why it matters. That’s why “whoever desires to be saved must believe” . . . this. It’s a matter of life and death. And if God only loves us when we are good? . . . well, that matters. If it wasn’t God Himself dying on a cross to pay for your sins . . . that matters. If there are many ways to get to heaven and the Son of God did not really have to become one of us in order to die in our place on a cross . . . that matters.

But, on the other hand, if God in love desires to save us for eternity . . . if He sent His eternal, only-begotten Son into our flesh to accomplish this by dying Himself . . . if He sends His Spirit by means of His Word to give to us personally the blessings of what happened there on the cross and to be with us and comfort us through all the trials and troubles and tragedies of life . . . well, that matters most of all!

Yes, it matters that we know correctly who God is . . . and not just the facts about God – Three in One and One in three and all that; but what God has done for us in a manger and on a cross at a real time and a real place in the course of history. For, there, God shows His great love for us sinners. There, God shows that He will never leave us or forsake us, no matter how bad things get. And that matters!

In fact, that was the plan of God from before the foundation of the world. It’s who God is and what God does. We heard in the Old Testament Reading from the book of Proverbs that Wisdom – the Son – was there with the Father at creation. They delighted in and loved one another, and they delighted in and loved their creation. And then, St. Peter in his Pentecost sermon spells out how God’s plan to redeem His creation from sin and death had been revealed long ago, and then accomplished by Jesus. Yes, Jesus who is before Abraham and also the promised offspring of Abraham . . . Jesus who shows us the Father and His love for us . . . Jesus who sends the Holy Spirit to give to us, to join us to, to unite us in that love so that we might truly know God and His love.

But that’s precisely what the Jews of Jesus’ day, what so many people today, can-not wrap their heads around and, in their hardness of hearts, do not accept – this amazing love of God for sinners. But if God is not this, and if God does not do this for us; then we are the ones who must do it. Bear our own sin. Find our own way to eternal life. Be our own saviour. The Jews here in our text foolishly thought they could do that . . . and so also many people today. To which, how-ever, Jesus would remind us: “I am the Way and the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.”

And do you know what? That matters. It matters, when death is staring you in the face, that you have been baptized into the name of the Holy Trinity who has defeated death and the grave for you. It matters, when the trials and tumults and tribulations of this world come upon you, that you receive the Body and Blood of the only-begotten Son of God and Son of Mary who has endured all this for you, who knows how it is to carry burdens, and who has promised to be with you and never leave you or forsake you. It matters, when the thought of all your sins and failures and shortcomings cause you to be afraid of standing before the judgment seat of the Lord and Creator of all on the Last Day, that here and now He says to you through the Holy Spirit: “I forgive you all your sins. If anyone abides in My Word, he will never see death.”

“The catholic faith” is what the Athanasian Creed calls all this. Yes, ‘catholic’; that is, universal, that which at all times and in all places is to be believed, taught, and confessed because God’s love in His Son is meant for everyone, for all people. . . including, therefore, you and me; and not just for a select few. Yes, God for you . . . God with you . . . God in you. The Trinity in Unity and Unity in Trinity. That matters! And that is something, as the Athanasian Creed reminds us, to keep, to guard, to treasure, to hold on to, to share with others, to stand firm in. After all, “This is the catholic faith; whoever does not believe it faithfully and firmly cannot be saved.” But whoever does believe it has precisely what the Triune God offers in Christ: forgiveness of sins, life, and eternal salvation. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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I. Introduction

Dear Friends in Christ,

You probably know that I usually arrive at my office around 8:30 on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Last September I noticed a gentle, melodic sound that repeated every morning around 8:40. It sounded like someone’s phone or electronic device, but it only lasted for a couple of seconds. Eventually it dawned on me that it was, in fact, the signal from the school across the street calling students to come to their classes.

Now 70 years ago things were a little different. My teacher, Mrs. Eilers, was sitting at her desk, correcting papers, when she looked up at the clock on the wall and saw it was time for the children to come in from recess. Some were playing behind the school on the swing set. Others were over behind the church next door. Still others were playing hopscotch on the sidewalk in front of the school. She needed to get their attention. She needed to save her voice so she can teach the children, so she uses a bell like this one (ring bell) Did that get your attention?

Today is Pentecost. We remember this day as the special day when God the Holy Spirit got the attention of His people.

II. How did the Holy Spirit get their attention? — not with a gentle chime, not with a bell. But in three different ways the Holy Spirit got the attention of people that day.

A. First, there was wind and fire. Jesus had told his disciples that after he left them they would not go back to their occupations, but would be his witnesses (Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria and to the ends of the earth). But they would need a leader, a Counsellor. He would send them the Counsellor, the Spirit of Truth, the Holy Spirit. They were to go back to Jerusalem and wait for his arrival.

But how would they know when he had arrived? He made himself known through wind and fire. We are told: “When the day of Pentecost arrived, they were all together in one place. And suddenly there came from heaven a sound like a mighty rushing wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. And divided tongues as of fire appeared to them and rested on each one of them.”

When God wants to make His presence known, He is loud and bright. When He appeared to the Children of Israel on Mt. Sinai after the Exodus, the Lord came with a loud trumpet sound, and with smoke and fire. God wanted His people both to hear and see what He is about to do!

B. He also gets their attention by giving the Apostles the special ability to speak in different languages. You see, the Holy Spirit also wanted to get the attention of the people in Jerusalem. It was Pentecost. Thousands and thousands had come for the harvest festival. They had come from many different countries and nationalities. As we heard in today’s text, there were “Parthians and Medes, Elamites and Mesopotamians, people from Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia. Some had come from Phrygia and Pamphylia and Egypt and Libya, others from Rome. There were Jews and converts to Judaism, Arabs and people from the Island of Crete.” God the Holy Spirit wanted all these people to hear the Gospel — that good news that Jesus had suffered, died and rose again to make them God’s own people. How would he get their attention? Well, he gave the disciples the special ability to speak in these very languages that they had never learned before.

The great miracle of the Tower of Babel was revisited! There, you will remember, all people spoke the same language. In their pride they determined to build a great tower that would reach the heavens and make a name for themselves. This action was to rivel and displace the need for God. So the Lord took action. “Come, let us go down and there confuse their language, so that they may not understand one another’s speech…and from there the Lord dispersed them over the face of all the earth.”

But now, at Pentecost, the Lord wants all people to hear and understand what He has done. So the Apostles can communicate clearly in each person’s own language. “How is it that we hear, each of us in his own native language? …we hear them telling in our own tongues the mighty works of God”

C. The third way the Holy Spirit gets their attention is by the Preaching of the Gospel. Now that the Holy Spirit got the attention of their minds, how would he get the attention of their hearts? It is one thing to get people’s attention by doing something flashy, something exciting, something powerful or colorful, but it’s another thing to get the attention of their hearts — or to change their hearts. The Holy Spirit used the words of Peter — Peter’s sermon. They were words that spoke two messages: the message of Law and the message of Gospel. Let’s see what those two messages were.

1. The message of the Law — “You put him to death”!
Peter is probably speaking in the courtyard of the Temple. He knows that among his audience are those people who made up the bloodthirsty mob of Good Friday who demanded Jesus’ crucifixion. Perhaps some were the temple guard who had arrested Jesus in Gethsemane. Perhaps some were the witnesses who gave false testimony against Jesus at his trial. Maybe others were among those bullied by the priests and pharisees to shout for Jesus crucifixion. Peter doesn’t shrink from telling them the truth: they put to death the innocent Son of God.

“Men of Israel”, Peter says, “Jesus of Nazareth, a man attested to you by God with mighty works and wonders and signs that God did through him in your midst, as you yourselves know – this Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men.” Peter’s words are words of judgement, words of law.

2. But Peter used a second message to reach the hearts of the people that day — The message of the Gospel — “But God raised him to life”
You see, the law can only condemn the sinner. But Peter goes on to proclaim the good news, Gospel news. He who was crucified was handed over to them by God’s own set purpose and foreknowledge. And now He has been raised to life just as King David had prophesied — set free from the agony of death because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him. Furthermore, He has now been exalted to the right hand of God where he reigns as Lord of all!

3. The Holy Spirit got the attention of their hearts through the preaching of God’s Word. And the people responded to the preached word with hearts that were now turned to God: “Brothers, what shall we do?” they asked.

Peter told them to repent and be baptized so that their sins could be forgiven and they too could receive the Holy Spirit. And that’s what happened that day — 3,000 were baptized. A little while later we are told that the number grew to 5,000… and then we are told that every day more and more were being added because of the preaching of the apostles. God the Holy Spirit continued to actively change hearts through the power of the Gospel.

III. Your heart has already been changed by the preaching of the Law and Gospel. The Holy Spirit got your attention with water and the word. — not a noisy, clanging bell, but the gentle sound of water running off your head and into a basin. There God changed you so you became His person. Are you still his person?

A. Sometimes you might not feel like it. You may feel that God has abandoned you. You worked hard for him, but somehow he has let some hurt or trouble come into your life. You may feel you are walking alone.

B. More likely, it is not you who has abandoned God — disobeying his commandments, breaking faith with God, living for yourself?

C. But the truth is, God has not abandoned you. In your hurt and trouble He is still with you. Even in your disobedience, he does not abandon you. He loves you still. He calls you to return to him in faith. The Holy Spirit continues to work today to restore and renew the faith of God’s people. This morning He is doing it through the preaching of his word (and in a few minutes He will do the same thing through the body and blood of Jesus given and shed for you).

IV. Conclusion

Dear friends in Christ, God the Holy Spirit wants your attention. He has much to teach you. He is the Spirit of Truth who will lead you into the truth about your disobedience. He is the Counsellor who will comfort and guide you when you are lost and alone. He has called you to faith and is working so hard to keep you strong in faith, pointing you again and again to Jesus Christ, your Savior.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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Acts 1:26: “And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.”

This is our text. Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Dear Friends in Christ,

For some reason it seems that our Lord likes to work in twelves. That’s the number of His people. In the Old Testament, it’s the twelve tribes of Israel—descendants of the twelve sons of Jacob. In the New Testament, it’s the twelve apostles; and the new Israel, the Church, will be descendants of the Word they preach.

Now, the number twelve doesn’t prescribe anything for the Church in terms of practice: we don’t have to meet here in multiples of twelve in order to be pleasing to God or anything like that. But twelve has significance in Scripture: quite often when you hear it, it’s usually there to remind you that the Lord has His people—and the Lord is faithful to His people.

As our text begins, there are eleven apostles, not twelve. Judas is gone, and you’re treated to a rather graphic description of his end in our reading. There’s a reason for this, I think: the language is rich with comparisons between the Savior, just ascended into heaven; and Judas, His betrayer.

Peter points out in our text that there were prophecies of Judas in the Old Testament, just as there were prophecies of Jesus. According to the psalms, the camp of Judas would be desolate and uninhabited—but Jesus would gather the nations. The office of apostle that Judas held would go to another, but Jesus would reign forever.

The contrast continues: Judas, Peter says, was numbered among the apostles—but his position profited nothing because of his unbelief. Jesus, on the other hand, was numbered among the transgressors, says Isaiah—and His office there redeemed the world from sin.

There is similarity in death between Jesus and Judas: both were hanged on a tree, and Deuteronomy 21:23 declares that the one who is hanged on a tree is cursed. Jesus was nailed to the tree of the cross by His enemies and judged by God for the sins of the world—because He bore the curse of sin, He made the sacrifice for all. Judas hanged himself in utter despair—not a sacrifice for others, but an act of selfish loathing. Because he rejected the grace his Savior offered, he kept the curse of sin for himself.

There’s a striking difference to their bodies after death. Jesus was pierced in the side: blood and water flowed to declare salvation and life in His name. Judas’ side opened and “his bowels gushed out” — a testimony of the corruption sin brings.

Jesus was laid in a tomb: friends and followers still honored Him in death. He was given a proper burial in a rich man’s tomb, and the women even returned with spices to complete the work early on that Easter morning. There’s no sign that Judas was buried: instead, he fell headlong into a field, says our text. I can imagine the burial crew cutting him down and heaving him onto the dirt as the sun was near setting. Throughout Scripture, the one who is left unburied is the one who has no friends or family left to bury him. There is no one left willing to associate with him: it is a sign of utter forsakenness.

Laid in a borrowed tomb, Jesus was buried in the creation He came to redeem. Ironically, Judas was cast onto the field purchased with the thirty pieces of silver he received for betraying Jesus.

Finally, remember that this text takes place just after Jesus has ascended into heaven, having gone to prepare a place for His people. When the disciples pray in our text, they note that Judas has gone to “his own place.” He is not with God. Whatever else hell is, the greatest curse of it is to be cut off from God, from His grace and life forever. This is a despair that you and I cannot possibly fathom in this lifetime, because this world is not God-forsaken.

So the lengthy description of Judas’ end preaches the Law to you: the one who rejects the Lord and His grace faces corruption and death, cut off from God. In contrast, the death of Jesus proclaims the Gospel to you, because it is the Gospel: He is crucified and raised so that you might be with God forever.

So as our text begins, Jesus is gone—ascended into heaven. Judas is…just gone. The twelve are down to eleven. They’re incomplete—and God is not one to leave things incomplete. Peter takes the lead and addresses the believers, about 120 of them. He proposes a replacement for Judas. It is to be a man who has followed Jesus since He was baptized by John—a follower from the start who wasn’t one of the twelve. At least two men among the 120 fit the description: Joseph—called Barsabbas but also known as Justus, and Matthias. The plan seems good to the believers, so they pray and cast lots. This doesn’t necessarily mean a blind draw, by the way. Sometimes in Scripture, it’s like a roll of the dice, as when soldiers cast lots for Jesus’ clothing. At other times, though, lots are cast as a voting system. At any rate, what we know is this: the believers cast lots, and Matthias is chosen as the replacement. The Lord has His twelve again.

What happens to Matthias after this? We don’t know. He disappears from Scripture. With other apostles, historical tradition usually sticks to one story about what happened to them; but with Matthias, there are several different traditions which disagree with one another. So this is the story of Matthias: he’s an unknown follower of Jesus from the beginning; he’s chosen as the twelfth apostle, and then we hear nothing more of him. So we don’t know Matthias. That’s all right: we’ll meet him eventually in heaven. In the meantime, we know that that Lord knows Matthias; and for Matthias, that’s what matters.

Furthermore, we rejoice that the Lord has His twelve again: and again, from the Word that they preach, the new Israel—the Church—will be born. The Word will spread to all nations and endure throughout history; and as the Lord did not forget Matthias, He will not forget one of those who believes in Christ and Him crucified. The believers add up over time: in Revelation, they’re described as a multitude no one can number; but, nearly in the same breath, John gives them a number—144,000. It’s not a literal number, but a symbolic one. 144,000 equals 12 x 12 x 1000: it stands for all the believers of the Old Testament (the first 12) and all the believers of the New Testament (the second 12), because 1000 is a number that symbolizes “all.”

So what does all of this mean for you? You are numbered among the people of God. You are among the 144,000 that no one can number. The Lord brought you in by the waters of Holy Baptism and placed His name upon you: He marked you as His own and promised, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” He’s chosen you to be His. Of course, He also chose Judas to be His disciple, and Judas fell from the faith. That is why the Lord graciously visits you in His Word and by His Supper, to strengthen and preserve you in the one true faith unto life everlasting.

So in the end, this story of Jesus, Judas and Matthias is one of comfort for those who are near to despair, who are troubled that they are God-forsaken and left to destruction as Judas was. You are not. Christ has died for all of your sins. He is risen from the dead, and ascended into heaven to rule over all things for your good. He has called you as His own beloved child. He promises, “I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” He didn’t forget the unknown Matthias, and He will not forget you. The devil will do his best to make you think the Lord has forsaken you, but the Lord’s Word is sure. You are numbered among the 144,000, among the people of God—because you are forgiven for all of your sins.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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I. About Prayer
“Whatever you ask the Father in My name He will give you.” Jesus said this to the disciples at the Last Supper. Up to now, they hadn’t had to ask for anything in the name of Jesus: Jesus had been right there with them, so they’d just ask Him. But things were about to change: in a few hours, He would leave them and go to the cross. After His Resurrection, He would leave them and ascend into heaven. In a little while, they would see Him no more.

So note two things that Jesus did for His disciples at the Last Supper. For one, He gave them the gift of Holy Communion. In that Sacrament, He gave them His body and blood for the forgiveness of sins. Although they would not be able to see Him face to face, He would still be with them to the end of the age, by His Word and in the Sacraments. As we speak of often, these means of grace are how Jesus is present with His people even today. This is how He gives us forgiveness, life and salvation.

But here, in our text today, He reinforces another gift: the gift of prayer: “Truly, truly, I say to you, whatever you ask the Father in My name He will give it to you.” Until He returns in glory, this is how we speak to our Lord. Now, prayer is an oft-misunderstood gift among Christians, so we take some time this morning to learn of our Lord’s gift of prayer.

We begin with Jesus’ assurance: “Truly, truly, I say to you.” This is one of Jesus’ frequently used sayings: “truly, truly,” a double “amen.” “Yes, most assuredly”. Here you have Jesus’ promise to you that He hears your prayers. He doesn’t pick and choose which calls to return, nor does He send most of your petitions to the junk-mail file. He hears and honors each one, and promises to answer every prayer that is prayed in Jesus’ name.

“Whatever you ask the Father in My name He will give you.” That’s an astonishing promise—hard to believe, but it’s what Jesus promises “most assuredly.” The Father will give whatever you ask for in Jesus’ name. Jesus doesn’t give you three wishes. There are no limits. You can’t bother the Father in heaven in prayer enough. As our Lord says in our Gospel lesson, God the Father loves you just as God the Son loves you. He delights to hear and answer every prayer prayed in Jesus’ name.

“In Jesus’ name.” That’s the key phrase we keep coming back to. That is what the promise and gift of prayer rely on. We pray in Jesus’ name. We go before the Lord in prayer by saying, “We are terrible sinners, and we are not worthy of Your grace or mercy or help. Therefore, we do
not ask You to help us because we are deserving. No, we ask You to hear us and to help us because Jesus has died for our sins and risen again for our salvation. Do not help us because of our goodness: help us for Jesus’ sake. Help us because Your Son has shed His blood to make us Your children.” That is what it means to pray in Jesus’ name.

And as long as you pray in Jesus’ name, you can be absolutely sure that the Father will give you whatever you ask.

II. The Law and Gospel of Prayer
Therefore, the Law for us sinners is quite straightforward today: we sin whenever we fail to pray in Jesus’ name.

Now, let us be clear: I do not mean that every prayer is good as long as we attach the three words, “in Jesus’ name,” at the end before the amen. Nor do I mean that an otherwise good prayer goes unheard because we fail to end it with those three words. This is not some sort of
magic phrase. Again, to pray in Jesus’ name is to confess that God answers prayers for Jesus’ sake, not because we or anyone else has earned God’s help.

The classic example for Luther was, naturally, praying in the names of saints. In Luther’s time, the Roman Church declared that Jesus was quite the angry Son of God, and encouraged Christians to pray for God’s help in the name of one of the saints who had gone before—perhaps St. Peter or St. Paul or certainly St. Mary, Mother of Jesus.

But Jesus never commanded us to pray in the names of other sinners. One can imagine the Father saying, “Why should I hear a prayer prayed in the name of Peter? My Son had to shed His blood for Peter, too — apart from His grace, Peter is no more righteous than the one who is praying in Peter’s name.” Indeed, were the saints who have gone before us aware of such shenanigans, they would certainly not want us using their names when we can pray in the name of Jesus.

Another widespread error in our day is that God honors all prayers, even those prayed by unbelievers. But why should God hear such a prayer? The prayer of an unbeliever says, “Even though I don’t believe that Jesus died for me, and even though I give Him no thanks or honor for the cross, I still expect you to help me anyway.” Such a prayer is exactly against praying in the name of Jesus.

Now, if you’re a member here at Redeemer, I take it that you’re already a believer and already confess that it is incorrect to pray in the name of saints. However, you still face many temptations which would mislead you away from praying in Jesus’ name.

Perhaps the greatest temptation for you is to pray in your own name. It is so seductive to think that God hears your prayers when you’ve behaved better, when you’ve been trying harder.

But if that is how you approach prayer, you are saying, “Dear Lord, hear my prayer because of my works, because of my intentions, because I’ve been trying hard to be a little less sinful than I was before.” A “little less sinful” is still terribly sinful, and God makes no promise to hear such prayers. Do not pray in your own name. Repent; and instead rejoice in the certainty that God hears your prayers for the sake of Jesus, who died for you. That is why you pray in Jesus’ name.

Another error is the one made famous by televangelists: it is the error that God will give you whatever you ask, as long as you have enough faith in Jesus. As long as you believe in Jesus enough, then God will give you whatever you want. “Name it and claim it.” There are two problems with this. One is that this says that God answers prayer not because of Jesus’ work, but because of how hard you work at believing in Him. If your faith is strong, you can count on Him. If your faith is weak, then you can’t. How terrible is this? How terrible to tell someone who prays for healing that God won’t answer that prayer because his faith is too weak!

The other problem is this: it uses Jesus for personal gain. To pray “in Jesus’ name” does not mean that you can expect Him to give you whatever your little old sinful heart desires. Often, what you want to ask for is not what is righteous or best for you. To pray in Jesus’ name is to trust that He knows what is best for you. It is to pray “Thy will be done, not mine, O Lord.” Plagued by the devil, the world and our own sinful flesh, this is what makes prayer so terribly difficult. You will be tempted to pray for deliverance on your terms: “Heal me now!” “That job is perfect for me, so get it for me!” “Save this relationship!” “Save this life!” But God’s thoughts are higher than our thoughts. His will is always best, and He often works through hardship to do us good. If you fall into these errors, repent. And rejoice: the Lord doesn’t only hear you when your faith feels strong. He always hears you for Jesus’ sake. And while you may not see the benefits of His answers in the short-term, you have His promise that He hears your prayers, and answers them in the way that is eternally best for you.

Here is an error that we want to approach gently: it is the idea that, God hears prayers more when more people are praying them. Therefore, if many are praying for us, we’re more likely to get the Lord’s attention. Please don’t misunderstand: it is good and right and proper for us to pray for each other and ask others to pray for us; and it is immensely comforting for you and me to know that many people are praying for us. I don’t want to take anything away from that. At the same time, however, it is good for us to embrace this truth: whether the prayer is prayed by one or by many Christians, God promises to hear it. Why? Because it doesn’t depend on the one or the many. It depends on Jesus, who died for the one and the many. If you trust in many voices rather than Jesus, then repent. And rejoice: it is indeed a great comfort to know that, even if you are the only one to pray in Jesus’ name, God promises to hear you and answer you.

Here is one more: it is tempting to think that God will answer your prayer as long as you choose the right, eloquent words. As long as you articulate your need clearly, then God will answer. If that is true, then the prayer does not depend on Jesus; rather, it depends on you and your communication skills. But it is not true. In fact, the Bible declares that we do not know how to pray. However, the Holy Spirit intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words (Ro. 8:28).

If you place your trust in your eloquence in prayer, repent. And rejoice. Rejoice that even if the longest prayer you can string together is “Lord, have mercy,” that prayer in Jesus’ name is heard.

Likewise, rejoice in this: not only has the Son given you His name and prayer, and not only does the Father love you and delight to hear your prayers, but the Holy Spirit works to present your prayers in a proper manner to the Father. All the holy Trinity bids you to pray.

Rejoice: God hears your prayers prayed in Jesus’ name. To pray in Jesus’ name is to trust that the prayer will be answered because Christ has died for you. And to pray in Jesus’ name is to trust that His will is best, rather than imposing your sinful desires on Him. Rejoice, too, in this: after Jesus spoke of prayer in John 16, He then went to the Garden of Gethsemane and prayed for His disciples—and prayed for you. Even now, He prays for you until He comes again.

Therefore, dear friends, rejoice: you can be sure that the Lord hears your prayers for Jesus’ sake…because you are forgiven for all of your sins. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

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Dear friends in Christ,

Let’s do a little survey this morning. You don’t have to raise your hand, but just answer the questions in your mind. I assume that you all got something new for Christmas. Can you think of three gifts you received this past Christmas? ……. Now go back to the Christmas before that. Can you think of two new gifts you received two years ago for Christmas?…… Now go back one more year. Can you remember one gift you received at Christmas three years ago? ……

Well how did you do? Could you think of three gifts you received this past Christmas? Maybe you only thought of one. Could you remember two things you got two years ago? How about three years ago? Could you remember just one thing that you received three years ago?

You might be wondering what the point of this little survey is. The point I want to make is that when we get something new it is very exciting for a while, but before long the excitement fades and I suspect that most of us, in time, forget about it altogether. What is new doesn’t seem to hold its attraction for very long. Before long our attention and desires are drawn to some other thing that we just have to have. The new clothes you got for Easter, if you got a new dress or shirt, don’t seem so new anymore. The birthday present you received at your last birthday isn’t so exciting anymore. We always want something new!

This recurring human desire for something new doesn’t only have to do with toys or material possessions. We are in a constant search for new solutions to our problems, for new hope and joy in our life, a new image perhaps, or a new purpose, a new dream to follow.

We search for something new to give our life meaning and purpose, to bring a sense of fulfillment or accomplishment — a new relationship, a new job, a new home in a new location — anything to lift us out of the ordinary, hum-drum routine of our daily existence.

We certainly do need that kind of a lift. We need joy and purpose and fulfillment in our lives. But when we depend do plan and work hard to achieve these things, we quickly discover that all the “new” things in the world soon grow old. New clothes fade, new toys break, new solutions only bring new problems. Our creative energies are sapped when we are separated from the Source of our energy and life. In a newspaper editorial, Ron Dreher, columnist for the Winnipeg Free Press, put it very well: “In a culture with an insatiable craving for sensation, boredom becomes the root of all evil.”

It hasn’t always been this way. Before the fall into sin every day was a new day for Adam and Eve — every day was a day of joy and wonder and fulfillment. There was no dullness, no drudgery. New things didn’t grow old, they just kept on being renewed in the innocence and wonder of that earthly paradise. That’s because there was a perfect harmony and Adam and Eve had a perfect relationship with God. He was with them daily and every day they looked forward to being with Him, walking with Him and talking to Him.

But Adam and Eve’s sinful rebellion ended that perfect relationship. And it also ended the joy and fulfillment in their lives. From now on, there would be, not only pain and hardship, but also estrangement and alienation from one another and from God. And there would be death, the ultimate destination for a meaningless existence. So now mankind’s search for joy and meaning and fulfillment began. It was ultimately a search for God — for the restoration of that perfect relationship with God that once was, but now was lost. But we looked for it in all the wrong places. For Adam and Eve’s firstborn, Cain, personal fulfillment could only come from being acknowledged as # 1, and when his offering wasn’t # 1, he rose up in anger and killed his brother Abel. For the people of Sodom and Gomorrah it was finding personal fulfillment in sexual perversion so great that God destroyed both cities. For King Ahab, it was Nabboth’s vineyard. If only he could have that vineyard for his own he would be happy. But that search for fulfillment ultimately lead only to Nabboth’s death and God’s judgment on Ahab and his evil wife Jezebel.

Their search for paradise isn’t much different from ours, is it? We keep looking but never finding. We keep searching, but often in the wrong places, thinking that perhaps something new will bring us peace and happiness — whether it be a new toy, a new relationship, or a new attitude. But as long as we rely on our own efforts and as long as our desires and efforts are away from God’s plan for us, we will fail. We will find no lasting peace.

We will find no lasting peace until we realize that the very thing we long for — a restored relationship with God — is, in fact, God’s gift to us in Jesus Christ. St. John tells us that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, made his home among us. Jesus didn’t remove the pain and sorrow and frustration and fear and death from us, but He made these things his own. He makes our tears His tears, our crying His crying, our mourning His mourning, our pain His pain, our death his death. Crushed and killed by the very things that crush us, he redeems us and restores us. Death has been conquered and now becomes the portal to life, and WE become a new creation.

In the midst of our reality, God dwells with us today, in Jesus! That word “dwells” really means “to tabernacle”, “to tent”. It’s a concept that goes back to the days when the Children of Israel were camped at the foot of Mt. Sinai. God gave the people instructions to build a Tabernacle — a place where God would be a present reality in the midst of the people as they traveled through the wilderness. When the tabernacle was ready, God moved into this great tent. Listen to this description from Exodus 40: “Then the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle. Moses could not enter the Tent of Meeting because the cloud had settled upon it, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle. In all the travels of the Israelites, whenever the cloud lifted from above the tabernacle, they would set out to travel; but if the cloud did not lift, they did not set out — until the day it lifted. So the cloud of the Lord was over the tabernacle by day, and fire was in the cloud by night, in the sight of all the house of Israel during all their travels.”

My friends, God tabernacles with us, in our life’s journey. He comes to us in His Word of forgiveness and life. Jesus doesn’t just “make new things” for us, but he “makes all things new.” In Holy Baptism, water embraced by the Word is “new” water, a life-giving water. One of our former students is a young woman from Korea. Her name is Serena and while she lived with us she was catechized and on a very special day, I baptized her. When she left our home, Serena wrote about the significance of her baptism. This is what she said: “The most important thing in the church was the baptism. That day was another birthday for me. I can’t forget that in all my life. I thank you for receiving me as a member of your church…” In Baptism Serena experienced what is true for all baptized people — “another birthday” — a brand new life given by God!

Bread and wine embraced by the Word of God are the very body and blood of Christ, providing new sustenance for God’s new creation. We, ourselves, become that “new creation” transformed by His own death and resurrection. Old, broken-down relationships can be made new by His power. Old, broken-down marriages can be renewed. Old, broken-down people have hope and new life.

Everything is made new in the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus. We rejoice because he creates a new heart within us and restores to us the joy of His salvation. We celebrate because he renews a right spirit within us and “tabernacles” with us on our life’s journey, sustaining and upholding us by His presence in Word and Sacrament. And as we continue our journey, we look forward to that time when all things are consummated, when we see with our eyes the “new Jerusalem” where God will dwell among his people for all eternity!

“Behold, I am making all things new!”, Jesus says in our text. That was His word to 1st century Christians who were facing persecution and even death at the hands of the enemies of Christ. That Word breathed new life into them. That Word breathes new life into us. We can rejoice as we are turned from looking inside ourselves and from thinking that we can somehow do something that will last forever.

That has been done already in Jesus! He makes all things new! As you receive His Word and blessing through your ears and in your mouths, you are made over, restored, redeemed — not just for a few months or years, but for all eternity. Everything is being made new, and everything will be new when Jesus comes to end all suffering and sadness! Until He comes, the message to you is the same as it was to the 1st century believers: keep your eyes fixed on Jesus, where true joys are found. Keep your eyes fixed on Jesus whenever your old Adam or old Eve, tempts you to find a different source of joy, excitement or fulfillment. Living your life in Him is the only thing that will keep all things new. In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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Dear Friends in Christ,

Today is the Fourth Sunday of Easter, also known as “Good Shepherd Sunday”. It is good to have this Sunday every year, because with all that is happening in this world, it’s important to listen to the voice of the Shepherd. That’s what Jesus talks about in our Gospel lesson for today.

No image of the Lord, and his relationship with His people, strikes closer to our heart than the image we see in today’s lessons: the picture of the Lord as our Shepherd and us as his sheep. We read it in this morning’s first lesson where St. Paul charges the pastors with the responsibility of “paying careful attention to all the flock in which the Lord has made you overseers”. We heard it in the second lesson: “The Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd.” And in today’s Gospel lesson Jesus tells us, “My sheep listen to my voice and I know them and they follow me.” We even teach our children to sing “I Am Jesus’ Little Lamb.”

Why do you think this image has such power for us? Perhaps it’s because in a world as troubled as ours, we link sheep and shepherds together with peace and quiet. Psalm 23 says, “He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters”. And when the day has been long and hard, some of us get to sleep by counting sheep. Peaceful and quiet.

Or maybe we like this image so much because of how we think of sheep. My dad used to have a sheepskin on the seat of his old Oliver tractor. The seat was hard metal, but the wool was soft. Wool has the amazing quality of being warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Surely the animal that gave it must be like that: soft and gentle, clean and fresh, without fierce teeth or sharp claws. Jesus, the Lord, is our Shepherd, and we are his sheep.

On our trip to Australia, we saw field after field of sheep. Usually they were just peacefully grazing in a green pasture. Such a tranquil, soothing scene. If only more of us knew how sheep really are, we might have some second thoughts about what it means to be the Lord’s sheep. Laura Ingalls Wilder has an interesting illustration in the book Farmer Boy. The chapter called “Sheep Shearing” describes the process of taking the wool from the sheep. The first thing done is to give each sheep a thorough washing.

You see, all that thick, soft wool picks up a lot of dirt and burrs as the sheep lives from day to day. What comes to us as clean and soft starts out as filthy and muddy. When the sheep have been scrubbed, they must be sheared immediately, because if they aren’t, they’ll get dirty all over again.

Those who have tended sheep know that they have other unpleasant characteristics. Sheep are prone to wander from the flock. The sight of some greener grass catches their attention, and they wander until they find themselves far away. Sheep can also be stubborn, headstrong, willful creatures.

The Bible tells us that we are God’s sheep, God’s flock. And just like sheep in the field, we Christians have an amazing ability to pick up dirt from our surroundings. How often we find our thoughts and words reflecting those of our non-Christian culture! We may not be able to help passing through the valley of the shadow of death, but when we begin to walk like those who are spiritually dead, that’s a peril of our own making — and we should be very much afraid.

When we look at ourselves in the light of God’s Law, we are soon dismayed by the sight of the filth and mess in our life! Instead of luxuriating in the oil the Lord pours over our head — and whatever good things he pours into our cup — we covet the luxuries of this world, never content, always wanting greener pastures, bigger lawns, coveting houses better appointed than the Lord’s own house; or treasuring the boss’s praise and our friends’ envy well above the Lord’s own goodness and mercy. Instead of trusting God to vindicate us in the presence of our enemies, we fear them, smear them, speak all kinds of evil against them, and secretly gloat when we see them stumble. Isn’t it true? And isn’t it also true that every time we gather for worship in the Divine Service, as soon as the name of God is placed on us, we find we must confess our sins.

God’s sheep have a tendency to wander too. Perhaps something hurtful is said to us, maybe by one of God’s people here at church. Or we experience some horrible, shocking event — a sudden death we can’t possibly explain in our understanding of a loving God, a rejection by a loved one that doesn’t make sense when we’ve been committed and faithful. Or maybe we catch sight of greener grass just over the next ridge — those worldly goods that draw us away, a catchier sounding philosophy or an emotionally exciting religion. We wander away from God’s house — become angry with him, lose faith in him, lose confidence that his simple Word and Sacrament are the richest table anyone could ever spread before us. The next thing we know, months or even years have gone by, and we find ourselves alone, without him, maybe without the dear ones he’s given us.

Isaiah said it well: “We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way”. And stubborn? Us? Sadly, yes. When things don’t go our way, we sometimes respond by digging in our heels and forcing others to drag us along. Instead of praying, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” we pray, “My will be done in heaven and on earth.”

We are sheep: dirty, lost, and stubborn. And so serious is our problem that God has taken a radical step to solve it. The Lord Himself, the Shepherd of Israel, took on flesh and became the Lamb. Did you hear the words of John in his Revelation: “The Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd.” Jesus is the Lamb of God. He took away the filth and grime of our sin by washing us in his own pure blood. And when we were lost, without hope and without God in the world, he wandered far from his heavenly home in search of us. His search took him to a lowly virgin in Nazareth, to a humble cave in Bethlehem, and, finally, on a dark and lonely Friday afternoon, to an accursed tree. He conquered our willfulness by yielding his own will to that of the Father — even unto death. Freely, willingly, lovingly he offered himself up for us through the Spirit to the Father.

There is one thing that sheep have going for them: they can recognize their shepherd’s voice. They may have nothing in the way of defensive capabilities and little in the way of brains, but they know enough to hear the shepherd’s voice and follow him. Otherwise, they’re not much good for anything but getting fleeced and sacrificed.

The Shepherd became a lamb. But then, with his resurrection on the third day, the Lamb has become our Shepherd. Good sheep will listen to the voice of their shepherd. And now our Good Shepherd calls us to listen to the promises He has given us in His Word. In fact, He feeds us in the pasture of his Word. He leads us beside the still, deep waters of Baptism: springs of living water, because through this water he gives us life. He satisfies our hunger by giving us the heavenly bread and the cup of life, his own body and blood. Our cup overflows with eternal blessing because we drink of the cup he pours out for us.

He knows each of us as well as any good shepherd knows his own sheep. And the amazing thing is that he still loves us, still feeds us, still leads and guides us through all the perilous ways of this life.

The Shepherd became a Lamb to save us dirty, wandering sheep. Little by little, as we feed on his love and stay with his flock, he breaks the old willfulness and stubbornness. He makes us his servants, who learn to give not only our wool but also, if necessary, our own skin for the needs of others.

When we come together each Lord’s Day, we come together as his flock. He is here, now, as our Shepherd. He speaks, and we listen. He leads, and we follow. And we have his word that he will keep on leading us until that day when we sing his praise in heaven’s glory and he wipes away every tear from our eyes. Praise the Lord for His loving care! Christ our faithful Shepherd is Risen! In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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