Sermon for November 6th (Obey)

I’d like to read for you some lyrics from a contemporary Christian musician named Josh Wilson.

Do you wonder why you have to,
feel the things that hurt you,
if there's a God who loves you,
where is He now?

Maybe, there are things you can't see
and all those things are happening
to bring a better ending
some day, some how, you'll see, you'll see

Would dare you, would you dare, to believe,
that you still have a reason to sing,
'cause the pain you've been feeling,
can't compare to the joy that's coming

so hold on, you got to wait for the light
press on, just fight the good fight
because the pain you've been feeling,
it's just the dark before the morning

Genesis 22:1-2, Some time later God tested Abraham. He said to him, “Abraham!” “Here I am,” Abraham replied. Then God said, “Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about.”

What would that have felt like for Abraham to be asked to obey such a command?

Mark 10:32-34, “They were on their way up to Jerusalem, with Jesus leading the way, and the disciples were astonished, while those who followed were afraid. Again Jesus took the Twelve aside and told them what was going to happen to him. "We are going up to Jerusalem," he said, "and the Son of Man will be betrayed to the chief priests and teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the Gentiles, who will mock him and spit on him, flog him and kill him. Three days later he will rise."

What would it have felt like for Jesus to go to Jerusalem knowing that it was necessary for him to die there—to die there!— for the sake of the world?

“Marxist guerrillas and the Colombian government were terrorizing the farming village Dora taught in. “Christians are dangerous,” the guerrillas repeatedly said. “Christians cannot lie. If the army asks them about us, they will tell the truth!” On Monday morning, Nov. 17th, 2008, Dora began her day like any other school day—praying with the students. During the day, a neighbor came to see the young teacher, “I’m sorry Dora,” he told her, “but the guerrillas will kill your brother tomorrow.” Later in the day, the neighbor returned. “I am so sorry,” he told her, “I have made a mistake. It is not your brother who will be killed . . . but it is you and your husband. You can take your family and run,” he said, “You can leave this village right now.” Dora reassured the guerrilla messenger, “You do not have to worry,” she said. This is better. My brother was not ready to meet the Lord. But my husband and I are.”

What would it have felt like for Dora to know that she would be killed the next day?

Do you wonder why you have to,
feel the things that hurt you,
if there's a God who loves you,
where is He now?

Maybe, there are things you can't see
and all those things are happening
to bring a better ending
some day, some how, you'll see, you'll see

Genesis 22:3, 4-6, “Early the next morning Abraham got up and saddled his donkey. On the third day Abraham looked up and saw the place in the distance. He said to his servants, “Stay here with the donkey while I and the boy go over there. We will worship and then we will come back to you.” Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and placed it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife.” “The fire and the wood are here,” Isaac said, “but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” Abraham answered, “God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.”

Abraham obeyed what could only be considered a gruesome command from God. He took his son, the son Abraham had waited for for one-hundred years. Without Isaac, how would God keep the promise God had made? He took his son, his only son, the son he loved—Isaac. The son promised to him. That’s the way the text in Hebrew reads to make it clear that this wasn’t a simple choice. Why did he say, “WE will worship and then WE will come back to you?” According to Hebrews, it was because Abraham reasoned that God could raise the dead. In other words, someone was really going to have to die! We know the ending to this story, Abraham did not, but he had faith in the power of God. Faith enough to obey in the face of utter terror. How might we learn to have that same faith?

Mark 14:32-36, “They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death, “he said to them. “Stay here and keep watch.” Going a little farther, he fell to the ground and prayed that if possible the hour might pass from him. Abba. Father. He said, “everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.”

Jesus obeyed. He was overwhelmed to the point of death. He prayed that he wouldn’t have to go through with it. That’s the way the text reads to make it clear that this wasn’t a simple choice either. Why? Because someone would have to die and Jesus knew it was going to be Him who was to do the dying. But he also knew the promise. He had given it to his disciples earlier, “Three days later the Son of Man will rise.” He is referring to himself here. He knows the promise; he has faith in the power of God his Father. And that faith, despite the overwhelming sorrow, is enough to obey. How might we learn to have that same faith?

The next morning they began the day like any other. Around 10 am two armed guerrillas, ushered the couple to the back of the schoolhouse to say goodbye to their family. The 12-year old, Marcella cried as the armed men walked her parents across a field to a river just 300 yards away from the school. Marcella could not see her parents, but she remembers hearing the two shots as her parents were executed. “If I met the men who did this I would forgive them,” Marcella said months are her parents had died. I know this would be hard, but I know God forgives them. So I have to as well.”


Do you wonder why you have to,
feel the things that hurt you,
if there's a God who loves you,
where is He now?

Maybe, there are things you can't see
and all those things are happening
to bring a better ending
some day, some how, you'll see, you'll see

Would dare you, would you dare, to believe,
that you still have a reason to sing,
'cause the pain you've been feeling,
can't compare to the joy that's coming

so hold on, you got to wait for the light
press on, just fight the good fight
because the pain you've been feeling,
it's just the dark before the morning

When your faith is put to the test. When you see the ending set before you and it scares the stuffing out of you, how do you find the faith to obey? To believe that God has the power to bring a better ending out of the darkness? When you face your death or the death of a loved one? When you face the anger or belittlement of your friends and family? When you face conflict? Or longsuffering? How do you find the strength to follow God’s call and obey?

The faith to obey does not simply mean doing something mindlessly because you are told to do it, at least not in these two stories. It means moving forward, even in the face of terror, because you have a promise firmly in hand. Three stories. We love one story, but hate the other two. I'd always figured that the difference between them was that Jesus knew that he was going to be raised from the dead while Abraham, or even Dora, couldn’t be sure. We say, we couldn't ever be expected to obey like Jesus. But Hebrews says that Abraham could only do it because he believed that God could raise the dead. I believe that. I fact, there is no way that Jesus could have made it through the garden –there is no way that Abraham could have made it up that mountain—unless they believed that there was more to the story than simply obeying a command. There is no way for you to obey God's command unless you trust in a promise from God. That you believe God can bring a better ending.

Do you wonder why you have to,
feel the things that hurt you,
if there's a God who loves you,
where is He now?

Maybe, there are things you can't see
and all those things are happening
to bring a better ending
some day, some how, you'll see, you'll see


How can you find the faith to obey? It’s a lot more than simple, “following the commandments” or “doing what you are told”. A lot of people do some pretty awful things all in the name of “obeying”. We so often read the Bible like an instruction book, but it's much more than that. You’ve got to know your promises, you’ve got to. You’ve gotta go home, get out your Bible, and start highlighting the promises God has given to you. Because if you don’t have a promise from God, if you don’t know what he has to say about it, you won’t ever find the faith to obey him.

You can’t obey without a promise. You can’t obey without being able to trust God to create a dawn out of your darkest hour. When God commands you to do anything, if you just think it’s a hoop to jump through in order to look “righteous” you will balk every time. Without a promise, obeying just seems like too much! What do you mean that I have to wait until I’m married? What do you mean that I have to stay with my husband through better or worse? You want me to give HOW MUCH to church? Do I HAVE to talk about faith with others? Without a promise, faith has nothing to hold onto. We just keep making up excuses saying: "It's too hard!" It's too hard to obey.

How can you find the faith to obey? Hold onto your promises and never let them go. When you think you just can’t wait for your marriage night, remember, “No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.” When you marriage is struggling? “Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. (And here comes the promise) The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective. “ You can only stay and obey if you believe there is a God who is powerful enough to heal your heart and make it better. How can you give? “Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,” Says the Lord Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.” How can you obey and speak? "For I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to resist or contradict. All men will hate you because of me. But not a hair of your head will perish. By standing firm you will gain life."

Having the faith to obey means to have the faith that God can take any commandment, any calling and any situation and, according to his promise, create something new, something good and something wonderful.

Would dare you, would you dare, to believe,
that you still have a reason to sing,
'cause the pain you've been feeling,
can't compare to the joy that's coming

so hold on, you got to wait for the light
press on, just fight the good fight
because the pain you've been feeling,
it's just the dark before the morning.

Sermon for March 7th

Is God in control of natural disasters, like those we have witnessed recently in Haiti and Chile? Yes. In fact, to argue that God is not in control of these events is to strip him of the glory he deserves, “Ascribe to the Lord the glory of his name; worship the Lord in holy splendor. The voice of the Lord flashes forth flames of fire. The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness; the Lord shakes the wilderness of Kadesh. The voice of the Lord causes the oaks to whirl, and strips the forest bare; and in his temple all say, “Glory!”.

Does God create earthquakes? What does the Bible say? When Jesus died there was an earthquake. When the women went to the tomb, there was an earthquake, for an angel of the Lord rolled away the stone. In Acts chapter 16, when Paul and Silas had been thrown into prison, suddenly there was an earthquake and they were set free. In Revelation chapter 11, John has a vision of a great earthquake where a tenth of a city falls, seven thousand people are killed and, according to the Word of the Lord, “the rest are terrified and give glory to the God of heaven.” In Matthew, Mark and Luke Jesus explains that earthquakes will be one of the birthpangs to tell us when Jesus is coming again.

The prophet Nahum reminds us, “A jealous and avenging God is the Lord, the Lord is avenging and wrathful; the Lord takes vengeance on his adversaries and rages against his enemies. The Lord is slow to anger but great in power, and the Lord will by no means clear the guilty. His way is in the whirlwind and storm, and the clouds are the dust of his feet. He rebukes the sea and makes it dry, and he dries up all the rivers; Bashan and Carmel wither, and the bloom of Lebanon fades. The mountains quake before him, and the hills melt; the earth heaves before him, the world and all who live in it. Who can stand before his indignation? Who can endure the heat of his anger? His wrath is poured out like fire, and by him the rocks are broken in pieces.” Does God create earthquakes? Yes. Of course he does.

But, what about suffering? Does God cause suffering? Yes. Does God cause all suffering? No. We cause a great deal of it all on our own, don’t we. We suffer at the hands of others. Others suffer at our hands. Much suffering is caused by sin. God will not take the blame for that—for the sins that we commit. However, as sinners, we do suffer at God’s hands. 1 Samuel 2:6, “The Lord kills and makes alive. He brings down to the grave and he raises up.” Deuteronomy 32:39, “See now that I, even I, am he; there is no god beside me. I kill and I make alive. I would and I heal; and no one can deliver from my hand.” Isaiah 45:7, “I form light and create darkness. I make weal and create woe; I the Lord do all these things.”

We suffer God’s judgment. We suffer God’s wrath. One might even say we suffer God’s resurrection finally for we are perfectly passive in that regard as well. Evil actions can cause suffering, but not all suffering is evil. Perhaps that is why we call the occasion of our Savior’s crucifixion and death “Good Friday.”

Jesus asks in Luke chapter 13 today, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?” It appears that some Jews had been killed while sacrificing in the temple at Jerusalem and the question Jesus poses to those around him is this: Do you think you are more righteous than they because you have not suffered the same fate? Jesus responds to his own question, “No, I tell you; but unless you repent you will all perish as they did.”

We are all unholy, unrighteous, sick sinners apart from Jesus Christ. We deserve nothing but punishment for our sins. But when earthquakes or tornados or floods or accidents or diseases happen to us, our first instinct is to say that God had nothing to do with it! These are bad things! And God is good! We want to get God out of the picture. Why? Because to confess God’s responsibility is to confess our own responsibility.

Yes, God causes earthquakes. Because of sin? Yes. Because of sin. So what should we do? Blame the Haitians for being sinners for we know that they are? No one is righteous. Not even one. What should we do? Rebuke the Chileans for being unrighteous for we know from scripture that this too is a fact? Shall we blame and accuse those people? No. We should repent of OUR sins. We should repent knowing that it is but by the grace of God that we are not living out on the streets in front of our own devastated houses. We are no better or worse because we are all at God’s mercy.

Jesus goes on, “What about those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.” You see, Jesus does not absolve the eighteen victims who were killed when a tower fell on them as if they were guiltless. But neither does he absolve the others still living in Jerusalem who were spared. It is only because God is merciful, and patient, that we live to theologize about earthquakes in far away lands rather than suffering from their effects ourselves.

Jesus told this parable, “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the gardener, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil? The gardener replied, “Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.”

Immediately after calling those around Him to repentance in the face of God’s judgment, in the face of great suffering, Jesus tells this parable about a fig tree. How much more clearly could He make His point? You and I are not bearing fruit. We should be cut down. Suffer an earthquake Suffer persecution. Suffer an accidental falling of a tower upon us—but God is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. Still, as long as we refuse to confess our sins and refuse to believe in Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior—we will not bear fruit. We will be cut down eventually. For apart from Jesus you can do nothing.

Now for the good news: Manure! Hallelujah for manure! That’s the good news. For you have a patient and loving gardener in Jesus Christ who cares for you enough to pile it on so that you might grow and bear fruit. The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. This is what God expects from us and, in order to produce, he fills our lives with manure (to put it biblically).

What does this manure look like? Suffering. Persecution. Hardship. Distress. Sometimes famine, nakedness or sword. Sometimes earthquakes. As Saint Peter’s first letter points out, “Rejoice, even if now for a little while you have had to suffer various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith—being more precious than gold and gold, though perishable, is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.” Sometimes it’s the manure in your life that ends up being the blessing because, very often, it is the suffering sent from God that brings you to faith in Jesus Christ alone. The suffering caused by the two recent earthquakes certainly isn’t good. But if they cause us to repent of our sins, then God has used even such an awful thing as an earthquake for our good.

It was the manure in Joseph’s life that showed him God’s glory. He was tossed in a pit and sold as a slave to Pharaoh by his eleven brothers. He was wrongly accused of coming onto Pharaoh’s wife and thrown into jail. But from this fresh pile of manure came the great confession of faith that Joseph told his brothers, “Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good, in order to preserve a numerous people, as he is doing today.” Praise God for manure!

Jesus was betrayed, abandoned, rejected, beaten, mocked, crucified and buried. And from this suffering came the most glorious event of all time: Jesus rose from the dead by the glory of His Father so that you too might walk in newness of life. Thank God for the manure he sends!

Is God in control of natural disasters? Yes. Does God cause suffering? Yes, very often he does. But, when you look at your life, I pray that you might realize that even in the most horrible events you have gone through sometimes bring you closest to God’s heart. In all things, even suffering, God works for the good of those who love Him. When you realize that you are too weak to live on your own and begin to trust in Jesus as your fortress. When you finally confess that your sins have turned your world into a mess and you surrender your life to God. Yes God creates earthquakes. But even in all of this suffering, he promises that he is working for good. When he sends the manure: repent. When he sends the manure: trust in Him alone. Perhaps by the power of the Holy Spirit, as God works through this suffering, you and I will finally start producing fruit for the kingdom of God! Amen.

Sermon for February 21st

Today’s message is going to be about temptation, especially what we can and can’t do about the temptations in our lives. Now usually, during Lent, we spend a lot of time focusing on the stuff that comes after temptation . . . repentance. But God calls us not to enter into temptation in the first place! So, let’s take Him at His word and figure out how . . . how to deal with temptation in our lives.

The main text that we will be focusing on today is from the gospel of Luke, chapter 4: the story where Satan tempts Jesus three times in the wilderness. When you heard that story again this morning, did you question how you would have dealt with those same temptations? Would you have been strong enough to say no to the bread after 40 days of not eating? Would you have had enough willpower to say, “No” when offered the power to control the world? Jesus seems so much more powerful than we are to deal with temptation. But my hope is that, after today’s message, you will understand that dealing with temptation isn’t about you being stronger or more powerful than the sin in your life. Instead, victory over temptation will only take place for you when you admit that you are powerless, weak, incompetent and unqualified to deal with it. You cannot defeat the Satanic seductions of sin in your life on your own.

After Jesus was baptized and was filled with the Holy Spirit, he was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’”

A couple of things to note in this passage. First, since we are reading the Bible today in English, we miss an interesting point that’s obvious in the original language of Greek when Satan makes the conditional statement, “If you are the Son of God.” There are three types of conditional clauses in Greek: one of fact, one of uncertainty, or one contrary to fact. Fact, uncertainty, or contrary to fact. This conditional clause, spoken by the devil, is one of fact. A better way to translate what is really being said is to read it like this, “If you are the Son of God (and of course you are!) command this stone to become a loaf of bread.”

Why is this important? Because Satan isn’t asking for Jesus to prove anything. Satan already knows the truth just like the other demons and evil spirits always know who Jesus really is even when the crowds or the disciples are clueless. Jesus isn’t being tempted to prove himself, but to use his power. And even more importantly, to show his power to benefit himself. There will be other times when Jesus is called upon to feed others with a few fish and several loaves of bread and he certainly uses his power to do that. But Jesus came to serve others, not to be served or to serve himself.

A second thing to notice in this passage is that,when Jesus responds to the Devil by saying, “One does not live by bread alone” he is referring to a passage in Deuteronomy where Moses explains that the bread from heaven, the manna, that the Israelites ate in their forty years in the wilderness wasn’t simply to feed their stomachs but to feed their faith. He wanted them understand that they were being sustained by God alone. Moses wanted them to remember that they needed to rely on God even when they were tempted to pride and self-sufficiency once they were out of the wilderness and in the Promised Land. The temptation for Jesus isn’t just that he use his power as the Son of God, but that he use his power rather than trusting in God’s power to sustain him.

In the second temptation, Jesus is offered power over all the kingdoms of the world if only he will only bow down to Satan. Jesus responds, “Worship the Lord your God and serve only him.” First, Jesus was asked to use his own power, but now Satan offers him other power. However, once again, Jesus trusts not in power, but in his weakness as a servant, “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.” When the Israelites were brought to the promised land, Moses warned them that they would become prosperous and feel very strong and powerful and at that very moment, at the height of their power, they would be most at risk to forget where their strength truly came from—they were not to worship themselves, or any other gods of this world, but they were to fear God and worship Him alone. When we feel powerless against temptation, isn’t it easy to think that we’ll find the strength to endure in the things of this world? So we try to escape depression with drugs and just exchange one temptation for another. And, in the middle of this shell game, we forget that God is our first love.

In the third temptation, the devil places Jesus on the pinnacle of the temple and says, “If you are the Son of God (and again, of course you are!) throw yourself down from here for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’ Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

Jesus now refers to a story from Exodus when the Israelites tested God and demanded water in the wilderness. They questioned God’s continued presence by asking, “Is the Lord not among us?” They wanted God to prove his love for them by showing off His power. Now that Satan has tempted Jesus to use his own power and to attain new powers, Jesus is now being tempted to demand that God show His power. But for the third time, Jesus does not yield to the persuasion of power and, in his weakness, simply trusts God without any miraculous signs.

As I explained at the beginning of today’s sermon, my hope is that, after today, you will understand that fighting temptation for you, just as it was for Jesus, isn’t about you being stronger or more powerful than sin, death and Devil. Instead, victory over temptation will only take place when you admit that you are powerless, weak, incompetent and unqualified to deal with these seductions. Because you are unable to defeat sin by yourself.

But there is a difference between how Jesus experienced temptation and how we experience temptation. Jesus was alive and on his way to death while we are already dead. As Paul puts it, “For as many of you who were baptized into Christ were baptized into his death.” Or as he states it in Collosians, “You are dead and your life in hidden with Christ in God.” In other words, Jesus was alive and on his way to death while we, two thousand years later, have already died. We have already lost the battle to temptation, the battle that we hear Jesus is fighting in today’s reading. We have already died. Sin has already defeated us through the Law. When it comes to our own efforts, we are judged by the Law as condemned sinners. When you come up against temptation in your life, this is probably the most important fact to realize: you have already lost—you are dead.

Now, of course, that can seem quite upsetting even depressing. How can God expect you to fight against temptation when you’ve already lost before you’ve even begun? But believe it or not, it is not hopeless. Well, for you it is, but not for Jesus Christ your Savior. When you or I are tempted, we look for more power. The first place we tend to look for help is in ourselves. We look to our willpower or our previous experiences. Then we look elsewhere, maybe to a book or self-help expert to back us up. But, eventually, we succumb to the pressure of sin once more and find ourselves tasting the forbidden fruit whatever that fruit may be. Trusting in yourself to fight temptation will always be pointless because you have already lost and died, but there is one who you can look to that has already defeated sin, death and the devil as well as all the many and various temptations this life has to bring.

In Jesus Christ, the battle that appears to be hopeless is, actually, a cakewalk, by faith alone that is. In fact, according to the apostle Paul, now that you are out of the equation, dead I mean, now you actually have some hope! “Shall we continue in sin in order that grace may abound?” He asks? Impossible, he says! “By no means! How can we who died to sin go on living in it?” It’s not up to you anymore and God has already won the battle for you. “You are dead and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”

In place of power, there is trust. God has given us a different technique for dealing with temptation and that is to trust in one who has the power over life and death itself. Not by testing God to prove or show us his power, but by trusting him unconditionally. The Devil misinterpreted Psalm 91 in today’s dialogue with Jesus. That psalm is not about miracles, but about a relationship of trust, “You who dwell in the shelter of the Most High, who abide in the shadow of the Almighty—you will say to the Lord, ‘My refuge and my stronghold, my God in whom I put my trust.’ The power of temptation is that we put our trust in the wrong place. We trust that by lying on a test we will get into college or by cheating on our spouse we will find happiness or that by going to a psychic we won’t fear the future any longer. We put our trust in the power of these temptations to see us through rather than trusting in God who alone has the power over all things.

What does Jesus do to fight temptation? Nothing really. He simply trusts in God, his Father, and in his Word alone to do the fighting for him and to contend with those that contend with him. What does God expect you to do to fight temptation? Nothing. Simply put trust in the right place—in God alone. Not in yourself, not in others or other things, not even in God’s miracles. Don’t trust in power, but in God’s unconditional promise: “I will deliver those who cling to me; I will uphold them, because they know my name. They will call on me, and I will answer them; I will be with them in trouble; I will rescue them and honor them. With long life will I satisfy them, and show them my salvation.” Amen.

Sermon for February 14th

“This is my Son, my Chosen, listen to him!” When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone.

There are times when I really appreciate the little blurbs placed above the readings in our Celebrate inserts each week. They often give good insight into the readings or background information that you may not have known. But sometimes I believe that they really miss the mark, like the one explaining today’s gospel reading. Here’s what it says, “The conversation about Jesus’ suffering and death is enclosed in a dazzling foreshadowing of the resurrection.”

Today is Transfiguration Sunday, but it is NOT a dazzling foreshadowing of the resurrection. What does the text say? Jesus went up the mountain to pray. While he was praying his face changed and his clothes became dazzling white (transfigured). Suddenly the disciples saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to Jesus. They appeared in glory and were speaking about his departure (that is, Jesus’ death), which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. There is no talk here about resurrection. So why does the Celebrate insert decide to bring it up?

Why? Because it’s hard to believe that Jesus’ death on the cross is actually how God shows his glory. The bright shining face of Jesus holds more possibilities we imagine. It’s always a temptation to try and jump ahead to the resurrection and look past the death. But God’s glory is shown most amazingly in the cross of Christ. God has brought the dead back to life before. The prophet Elijah raised the dead, Jesus raised the dead, God even created humankind out of the dust of the ground at the beginning of creation. God had created life before—from nothing. But God shows his glory most dazzlingly by giving his very self over to death in Jesus.

In the passage just previous to Jesus going up this mountain to pray, Jesus says, “The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves, and take up their cross daily and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.” Is the transfiguration really about the resurrection? Or does this event just make the march to death all that more offensive to us? Yes, there will be a resurrection, but the glory of that resurrection can only be understood if we can handle staring at the cross, with all it’s shame and despair. And Jesus’ transfiguration shows us exactly who is going to suffer from that shame and despair.

Peter said to Jesus, “Master it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” Of course! Why go down the mountain ever again? There’s only death and persecution waiting there. Let’s stay up here! Let’s stay where the glory is! Where God speaks out of clouds and where Jesus’ face shines like lighting! Soon, Jesus will be abandoned by his father on the cross and his face will be covered with blood. He will be as one from whom others hide their faces, as the prophet Isaiah puts it, but here, on the mountaintop, we see God’s glory.

Everyone needs a good mountaintop experience sometime. The honeymoon, the winner’s circle, the fifteen minutes of fame. A moment in time where everything seems to be going right and life is amazing. The problem comes when we start demanding that that be the norm or start thinking that those experiences are somehow better, more “divine” and “godly” than the other experiences in life. The love in marriage isn’t defined by the honeymoon bliss, but by the years of careful attention to each other’s needs. Amazingly, love is most gloriously manifested when it goes through the suffering of death. That’s where you see true love. If couples never left the honeymoon suite, never came down from that mountaintop, the true glory of love would never come about. Jesus’ glory is surely shown when he is transfigured and when he is resurrected, but the true glory of God’s love will come across most clearly on the cross of Calvary.

My wife’s uncle is a Methodist pastor in Texas and I’ve heard about an example he gave one time for a group of couples preparing for marriage. I thought this story would be especially appropriate on Valentine’s Day. He took off his wedding ring and talked about how, when he was first married, it was bright, shiny and perfect looking. Now, it has dents and scratches. Marriage, like all relationships, isn’t perfect, it is full of ups and downs, mountaintop experiences and deep down sufferings. But those dents and scratches in a marriage, and in a ring, make it real, make it true, make it a reflection of a long-lasting and steadfast love.

In Jesus’ transfiguration, God is not simply foreshadowing the resurrection, but placing a spotlight on a man headed for crucifixion. Because love doesn’t always look pretty. While we hide our faces from the cruelty, Jesus does not hide his face from us. His disciples abandoned their Lord and still, when the thief being crucified beside him cries out, Jesus hears and promises that God will not abandon him—“Today you will be with me in paradise.” The cross of Christ is a true reflection of God’s glory, for he is most glorious when he is showing his love for you. There is no greater love than this, Jesus maintains, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

Why the Transfiguration? God shows the world, in Jesus’ shining image, that God does not expect anyone to take this suffering from him. God does not expect anyone to take this suffering WITH him. God shows the disciples, on that mountaintop, that God will express his love in the fullest way that he can fathom, when Jesus dies alone, God’s chosen one, the lamb of God, sacrificed for the sins of the world—for your sins. And so, when the dazzling light disappears and the cloud passes, it is time for the journey to Jerusalem. The journey to the cross will be made not just by another prophet or charismatic preacher, but by God’s Son. Who will bear the sins of the world? God himself in all his glory. From the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen, listen to him!” When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. Amen.

Sermon for January 3rd

My family just got back from vacation yesterday morning, at 5:00am, after driving all day and through the night from our New Year’s Eve stay in a hotel in the Midwest. The only thing that amazes me more than the fact that we made it back here at that insane hour is that we made it to Nebraska at all. We drove all night long twice in two weeks and, honestly, that’s enough! But there are TWO ways to talk about our journey. Two stories.

Let’s begin with the first story. This one begins last year, the week before Christmas, where we began our search for, dare I say it, our DESTINY! We’ll title this adventure, ” Mission Impossible”—dun, dun, da-dun-dun dun . . . . Our mission: to drive twenty-four hours in a car with two children, a tired pastor and his pregnant wife across the United States into the heart of the Midwest which had just experienced one of the worst blizzards in recent memory. And all we had to work with was a Subaru (comes standard with All Wheel Drive), a bag chock full of snacks, lots and lots of coloring books and 24-hour Christmas music stations scattered across the nation.

The opening hours of the trip were uneventful, and after hearing Jingle Bell Rock for the fourth or fifth time riding across the long stretches of Pennsylvania and Ohio, the decision was made—there would be no hotel for us this night! The snow was covering the interstate, the wind was whistling across the plains of Indiana and Illinois but echoing through our ears came the wise words of Robert Goulet “There’s no place like home for the holidays” and, in fact, the traffic WAS terrific—at 1:00am on Christmas Night, no one was driving and it seemed good for us to keep going. I was man enough to keep going. I was bold enough AND I was stupid enough. Grrrr. After five grueling hours driving the graveyard shift, with my eyeballs twitching from the intensity of the effort, the Mama-bear took over and drove us across the unplowed stretches of Iowa and Nebraska without hardly breaking a sweat. (Perhaps because she was always turning down the heat) A mere twenty five hours later, we were at our destination. The Christmas cookies were waiting for us like so many adoring fans ready to give their lives in appreciation for our amazing driving skills. Our waiting family stood in adoration of us: the Broers Quartet! Victorious over rain, sleet and snow! We had found our destiny! Mission Impossible? No! Midwest! Possible!

Of course, after braving the wild stretches of the interstate once, the return trip seemed laughable. Ha, ha, ha! Wanting to infuse a little life in the down economy, we did stay for a little while in a hotel on New Year’s Eve, but, just in case that might make us look a little weak to those unfamiliar with our reputations, we slept in, ate breakfast out and left later than we should have (ha!) and drove the perilous mountains of Pennsylvania in the wind and snow, just outracing another blizzard. And then, in the wee hours of the morning, we blazed a trail from Kent to Cornwall so that any early morning travelers might have a path to follow. And so the journey came to the end. Showing off our courage, our stamina, and our unshakeable faith in God and in ourselves! We had arrived at our final destination. We had found our destiny!

There are two stories of our Christmas trip. This first is what you might call “the story of glory”. We came from glory and return to glory. This is the story that some people hear when they read today’s text. Let me read part of it for you again this morning: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love. He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will.” You see, many of us read this passage like a glory story. We see ourselves as victorious warriors fighting against the battles life throws before us just waiting, with eager anticipation, to be crowned with garlands of glory, to sit with Jesus in heaven: that is our destiny—it says so in scripture! God destined us for glory! And we are only too happy to enjoy the limelight.

But, as I said before, there are two stories. There are two stories about my Christmas trip and two stories for your life as well. A story of glory and a story of the cross.

This second story begins last year as well, the week before Christmas, where we began our search for destiny except, and this is just our little secret alright, but we weren’t completely sure how it was all going to work out. We didn’t start from a position of glory. We’ll title this little adventure: “Livin on a prayer”. We decided at the last minute to go to the Midwest for Christmas after spending most of the fall deciding why we probably shouldn’t. But the week before Christmas, despite our best arguments and intentions, the call to go back home became clearly the right thing to do. The joy of seeing our family was, of course, a great motivation, but the twenty four hour car ride, coupled with a pregnant woman, in the middle of winter were definite drawbacks.

We were thankful for a good-working car and two children with great abilities to entertain themselves, but would God see us through bad weather with two tired parents? We prayed a lot. Because, even though we know we can drive in bad weather, there are many people who can’t. In fact, while we were back home and on our way to a family event, a car slid out of control and hit my wife’s entire family riding along in the car ahead of us. It knocked them into a ditch where they were then smashed into by another SUV. What does this little event tell you? The Broers Quartet didn’t drive home safely thanks to our great driving abilities, but thanks to a great God.

We certainly did keep driving through the night, even though we were both dead tired, but not because we were showing off how amazing we were, but because it seemed like the best of two bad choices: drive in bad weather alone or drive in bad weather with a lot of other people. The looks on our family’s faces were not adoration but relief: they weren’t admiring us, they were admiring God’s great work in getting us therein one piece.

We left a day early because we saw that the weather was going to be bad, we prayed our way through the snow and ice. You see, prayer doesn’t make snow and ice go away, but it reminds you to put your trust in someone other than yourself so that, at the end, you give glory not to yourself, but to God alone. I spent much of the trip just thanking God for the snowplows who seemed to always be spilling out salt before I came barreling through. Thankful that God had spared my family from any worse injuries in the collision. Thankful for sleeping children. Thankful for having a splendid partner to drive with and to trust to drive. We arrived at our final destination, but was this truly our great destiny?

In today’s reading, the apostle Paul says that our destiny was decided before our car trip and even before the foundation of the world! This, of course, ruins our first glory story and makes it seem quite silly to give ourselves the credit, but isn’t that how most of us live our lives? Don’t we all see what we do, with our jobs, our hobbies, our families, as stories of glory? I’m not saying that God is pulling strings in your life, like you were simply a puppet, whether that were true or not, you’d still pretty much do whatever you wanted anyway. But, when it comes to your salvation, God gets the glory for saving you—you aren’t the hero of this story, you are rescued by Jesus. God gets the glory.

Martin Luther once wrote that we know God’s love through suffering and the cross. In other words, it is very nice that God got my family through last week’s trip—it certainly shows us that God loves us. But God’s love is shown most fully in that he showed us our destiny before our car trip, he revealed his destiny to us, just as he is revealing your destiny to all of you right now before you drive home today. I pray that you all make it home safely, but God’s love for you is already known: In Jesus Christ, you are destined for God’s love. You are destined for a great inheritance: the forgiveness of your sins and a heavenly kingdom. Not because of your glory, but because of God’s glory. There are two stories to tell in your life: a story of glory and a story of the cross. The story of the cross, while not as exciting perhaps, is the story of God’s glory and not your own. Jesus is the hero of this story and he has found his destiny: His final destination is you. Amen.

Sermon for December 20th

At this time of the year, at this time in my life, with the baby Jesus and his cousin John the Baptist still in their mothers’ wombs in our Sunday texts, and a baby on the way for me and my family, I find my mind wandering at times to consider what it means to have a Savior who once drank amniotic fluid and had the hiccups. What does that mean? Throughout most of the year, Jesus Christ is portrayed as a religious stud, the most magnificently mature of all, who calls people to repentance, forgives their sins and heals their diseases with a Word. He is the only one who has the wherewithal to speak out against people’s personal sins as well as against injustice and oppression whenever he comes in contact with it. But in our text today from the first chapter of Luke, Jesus just recently grew a backbone, literally. The lung that will speak God’s good news to the poor are still forming. Jesus was once an embryo. I find that difficult to imagine, but it’s a fact. If he wasn’t really an embryo he couldn’t really be human.

I spend a couple of days a week with my son, Malachi, at home. We play games, put puzzles together, read books, go grocery shopping and watch Batman movies when we think we can get away with it. I usually have a pretty good grasp of his moods and I know what he likes. But a few days ago, I was thinking about what he looked like when he took his first steps and I couldn’t remember. Our video camera has been broken a little over three years now and we’ve never bought another one, so I can’t really look to double check what happened. I’ve been thinking about his first words too and, honestly, I can’t really remember them either. I guess I am a really horrible father. But, for the most part, I don’t really think about the times when he wasn’t able to do much, I just focus on what he does now: sword fighting, running and dancing around the house, talking to me or playing ball. I know the other things happened, it’s just hard to remember them. I don’t think about it too much.

You see, there was a time when my son also didn’t have a backbone and mostly floated around aimlessly in the darkness of his mother’s womb. We all start out that way. Very humble beginnings. But today’s text reminds us about something very important: Jesus started out that way too. The Lord of all, our Savior, the kings of kings, was once an embryo. He would grow up to defeat all sin, death and the devil, to create saints out of sinners, but there was a time when, perhaps, he simply created nauteous feelings in his mother, Mary. It’s interesting to think about, perhaps even funny to imagine what may have happened to this baby who would grow up to be a Savior, but it’s even more than interesting: it’s important.

Martin Luther once pointed out that if you want to see the Lord of the Universe in all his glory, you need not look any further than the baby Jesus, nursing at this mother’s breast. It’s important that we understand that God’s glory is made perfect in weakness. We read Bible verses about this topic a lot and I preach about this topic a good deal, but it is something else to look down at a baby, or your child, or your niece, or your grandson, or your pregnant belly and realize that Jesus was once just like that: small, weak, and humble. I can talk about this all I want and try to get you to understand and believe in Jesus’ humanity, but the next time your child burps loudly in polite company, you’ll get the point much better, I think. Jesus was just like that.

God’s glory is shown most spectacularly when he is just as simply human as the rest of us. In today’s text, John the Baptist jumps in his mother’s womb; I wonder what Jesus was doing to his poor mother’s insides? Jesus could have begun his ministry as a 30 year old man, just appearing in all his humanity out of the sky one day. But God chose instead to have the Lord of the Universe be found in a manger, nursing at his mother’s breast.

Once Christmas is over, it will be a fast downhill ride into Lent and then Easter. Often, when we talk about Jesus’ humanity, people refer to the cross, showing that God suffers just like we suffer, he felt pain just like we do, he experienced temptation and weakness in the garden of Gesthemene, he felt abandonment and despair screaming out for help to his Father in heaven. Knowing that your God knows you and knows what it is like to be you is more than interesting, isn’t it, it’s important. But you don’t need to only look to the cross, you can look to the cradle or even before that. God experienced death through Jesus, but he also experienced birth through Jesus.

Do you know how offensive Jesus’ humanity is to many people? It really bothers them just as it may bother you. How can God, the Master of the Universe, the one who is All in All, fit himself within the skin of a man, let alone in the few cells of a zygote? About the only thing people dislike more than having to hear that Jesus died on a cross is to realize that Jesus had bowel movements. But do you see that if he did not, he couldn’t have been truly human! Like it or not, none of us can escape either going to the grave or going to the bathroom. No human being can.

A Catholic bishop in the early 5th century named Nestorious is probably the most notorious theologian for his frustration with this topic. He argued that we could talk about Mary being the mother of Jesus, or even the mother of Christ, but that we could NOT say that Mary was the mother of God. It wasn’t fitting to have God come out the birth canal! Nestorious argued that God was too holy and righteous for that! God couldn’t get THAT close to humanity. But, once again, if Mary is not truly the mother of God, and yet Jesus Christ is still her son, then Jesus could not be God. The miracle of Advent is that before God is truly born on Christmas day, he was truly carried by a human mother and that this very human being learning to live and breathe and eat and hear and see is also truly God in the flesh.

When I visit nursing homes or assisted living residences, it is a common occurrence to see women and men lifted to and from their beds into wheelchairs to take a bath or maybe to attend some recreational event. It must be a very humbling experience to be carried, as a grown adult, in order to get to where you want to go. The Lutheran reformers maintained that being a Christian is not best described as standing before God in righteousness, in a state of grace, but that it is to be carried, by one who is righteous, that is, to be carried by Jesus Christ through life.

It makes a difference to know that Jesus was carried once as well, for ten months, forty weeks, in his mother’s womb, and then for who knows how long swaddled in her arms from that point forward. Only a God who knows the tenderness of a mother’s love is the kind of God you can trust to suffer with you through the years of being carried from your bed to your wheelchair and back again day after day with no end in sight. Only a God who knows the strength of a mother’s love is the kind of God you can trust to carry you through life knowing that nothing, not even God’s judgment against you, could possibly snatch you out of his hands.

It’s not Christmas yet, we’ve still got a few days of waiting, but Jesus Christ is already here, in the story, waiting along with us. Just like his cousin, John the Baptist, Jesus, who will be born the Savior of the world, is bladder jumping, kicking against his mother’s ribs and sleeping upside down on his head. We all started out this way and so did he. Why? So that you might know that even the beautiful baby Jesus is truly the kind of God who knows what it is like to be just like you. He knows you. He loves you. And he will come again soon to carry you before his Father, through the gates of death and into eternal life. Amen.

Sermon for July 5th

“Whenever I am weak, then I am strong”, Paul says. Paul prayed, appealed, pleaded to God for help. Paul prayed that God in all his immense power would take away Paul’s weaknesses. The Lord said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” In weakness, even in suffering, in death—there, right there, is where God abides, when he stays, where he makes him home. Right there in your suffering and in your weakness, this is where you will find God for you, in all his power and in all his majesty. Not in glory, but in the cross. Not in your strength, but in your weakness.

Power, miracles, strength, prosperity, perfection. These are what we want, what we have been taught that God is all about. Ask around and people will tell you that God must be omnipotent, omnipresent, unchanging, untouchable, unimaginable. But these fancy words, these images and symbols of glory are a mirage leading to a God far from us reigning up in heaven somewhere. A God of ideas and myths—a God of glory. So God, the Father of Jesus Christ, gave you a different path to life, a road he struggled down himself first, a way to the cross. You have a God who died, a God cursed, a God who bleeds, a God who cries, a God who cries out, a God wounded, a God spit on, a God abandoned. A God of flesh and blood just like you—a God of the cross.

Paul was struggling with what he called a “thorn in his flesh”. A “messenger of Satan” he called it. Was it a temptation? A disease? A limitation of some kind? The Lord only says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect is weakness.” In North Dakota, in the middle of winter, four farmers stared into a freshly dug grave looking for the frostline, looking for signs of Spring—the end of Winter and the promise of a new hope. Paul had been looking for God to manifest his power in glory, but he is pointed, instead, to the cross. Where the promise of new life, of strength, of hope is found in death and an empty tomb.

One moment, Paul is pleading for God to deliver him, the next moment he finds true deliverance in a God who does not just save him from pain and death, but who enters into that pain and death and settles in. But not simply in solidarity. Jesus has come not to merely ease the pain, to take away your weaknesses, so that you might continue on the glory road. He has come for you. He has come, finally, to take you away from pain and death once and for all. To bring you into a new life where there is no suffering.

Why does Paul say that he is content? Why does he say that he is content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ? It is counter cultural both in his time and in ours. We are a society that thrives on becoming better and better, at easing suffering, at improving our weaknesses ourselves, at evading as many hardships as possible. When people are being persecuted in foreign lands, we are not content, are we? No, we are enraged! When calamities happen, tragedies occur and we buckle underneath the sadness, we may be depressed, shocked or paralyzed, but not content.

But Paul says he is even more than simply “at ease” with these things, the word “content” could just as easily be translated as “to delight in, to approve of”. Paul delights in his weaknesses and the insults he receives. He approves of these hardships, persecutions and calamities he is going through. How? Why? I encourage you NOT to assume that you should also approve of the sadness in your life. Suffering cannot be denied. This is much more than just some psychological attempt to “put on a happy face”. Paul is not supporting self-denial.

In fact, just the opposite. Paul is not denying the weakness he has to put up with. Paul does not pretend that the insults do not hurt. Paul admits that he is being persecuted, he is experiencing hardship, he is in the midst of tragedy BUT HE IS NOT ALONE there! Paul finds himself in the pit of despair and lo and behold there is Christ already at his side! And Jesus does not stay silent, but gives strength. Gives power. Give all of himself to one who is both powerless and weak and hopeless apart from this one and only Savior.

And so Paul is content to trust God’s power, God’s presence, God’s salvation rather than to simply trust in his own abilities. He delights in this fact. He even boasts of how weak he is! Laughing, taunting the forces of sin, death and the devil to take their best shot at him, or have they already done their worst?! “Death, where is thy victory! O Hell, where is thy sting!” This “thorn” in my flesh is not mine alone, Paul says, but is imbedded into my Savior as well. And not a cross, not a nail, not a tomb and not even death has ever held Him down.

“O Lord, Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there. If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light around me become night.” Even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you.”

You will struggle and suffer and cry out for help to God. But you need only whisper the words to a God who is right here with you. Holding you in your weakness. Listening to your every need. God has come down in the flesh for you, on a cross, in a grave, and even so far as into hell, so that you will never be as strong as when you are at your weakest. For in your darkest hour, there is where you will find the light of the world. There is where you will find your faith. There is where you will find the hope of the hopeless. There is where you will find your Savior, Jesus Christ. His grace is sufficient for you. In your weakness, you may cling to Jesus for your strength. Amen.

Sermon for September 14th

There are two kinds of people in this world: the dead ones and the not dead ones. Dead or alive. Another way to put this would be to say that there are two kinds of people in this world: the dead ones and the dying ones. Which one are you? Dead or alive? Dead or dying?

In the eyes of this world you are alive or, put more cynically, from the day you are born you are dying—but not dead yet. However, in the eyes of God you are already dead. Or, to put it more positively, “You are dead and your life is hidden—hidden—with Christ in God.”

So, is this important to know or has your pastor just gone a little dark in today’s sermon? The apostle Paul argues that knowing all this will make a difference in how you look at Jesus’ death on the cross: you will either think it is foolishness or you will be given faith. If you can make the distinction between whether you are dead or dying, you will discover what makes a dead man on the cross the seat of your hope rather than just another sad story.

Dying people still have a chance you know? Dying people can still strive for life. I recently watched a movie called “The Bucket List” starring Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson. These two men are each dying of cancer and decide to write out a list of things they would like to do before they die—before they “kick the bucket” so to speak. Then they do the things they write down. Two old men having the time of their lives. Jumping out of planes, seeing the Taj Mahal, seeing the world through new eyes. In the end, they seem to have lived more in their final days than they did perhaps throughout their entire life. And that’s what people who are dying can do—they can still improve. Dying people still have some choices to make. Dying people still have some time.

But in God’s eyes, you are not dying, you are dead. A dead person has nothing left to do. A dead person is at the whim of the weather and the worms. A dead person doesn’t choose to lie down, they just can’t help themselves. There’s no more improvement.

In the eyes of this world there is more hope in dying than in death. In the eyes of this world, death is the worst thing that could happen to you. In the eyes of this world, a dead man on the cross is the end of the story and it is foolishness to find any reason to hope in a dead man. It would be better to hide your face from the cross, look away and find something more interesting and exciting—a little more lively—to look at.

“The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, to those who are dying, to those who are not yet dead, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” Why is that? Why is the cross foolish to some people but powerful for others?

Perhaps you remember your days as a kindergartner or as a young child before going off to school. Do you remember the monkey bars? Do you remember when you first did them and you didn’t need help? How proud you were! How old you had become! How strong you had grown! You didn’t need your mom or dad to help you anymore! That would be silly and embarrassing. You didn’t need help. You could do it yourself.
That was, until you fell from the monkey bars and landed on the ground with a thud. Then, having mommy and daddy around wasn’t so foolish anymore. In fact, when they ran over, picked you up and held you tightly to their heart, they weren’t so silly at all anymore; instead, they were strong, loving and maybe even powerful.

We go through life trying our darndest to become self-reliant and powerful in ourselves. We want to be the best at what we do and we don’t want to always have to ask for help. When you get potty trained as a young child it is embarrassing to have an accident again and have to be helped into some other pants. When you are older and the car keys get taken away from you, the embarrassment is no less upsetting. We don’t want help. We should be able to do it all ourselves. The problem is that, while this attitude works well at work and at school, your relationship with God doesn’t work the same way.

When you are dead, you’d take any help you could get wouldn’t you? Throughout your life, you have the freedom to make good choices and bad choices, but when you are perfectly passive six feet under, it doesn’t matter how free you think your will is . . . you can’t do anything with it—nothing at all. You’d need somebody to come and lift you up out of the grave. You’d need someone who wasn’t afraid to get their hands dirty. You’d need someone foolish enough to call to a dead person to come out of their tomb. You’d need someone powerful enough to bring you new life.

If you think you are alive and well and always getting better you probably have no need for a God who’s greatest achievement in this world was to die embarrassingly on a cross. You’d stay away from a God like that. In the eyes of this world you’d be foolish to do anything different. If you think you are dying, you will probably run from a God who tells you to find hope in a dead Savior. To find hope in death. You’d stay away from a God like that. In the eyes of this world you’d be foolish to do anything different.

However, if you are dead already then a God who has died might be a little more relevant wouldn’t he. If you are dead already, a God who spent three days in hell might seem like a kindred soul. If you are dead already, a God who was raised from the dead might look a little more hopeful, a little more like a Savior. If you are dead already, you might pray that you had a God who could be powerful in your life and give you life after death. If you are dead already, trust in God who sent his only Son, Jesus Christ, to die for you. If you are dead already, you may trust in Jesus for your eternal life.

“The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” You are not dying, God says, “You are dead already and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” When Christ is revealed your life is revealed, whether he is revealed to you at church, in the Bible or, finally, on the last day.

Do you remember when you first learned to ride your bike without training wheels? The excitement, the danger, the balancing act, the constant need to pedal and then—finally!—freedom! Your parents let go and you were off, riding as fast as you can. You could go anywhere you wanted. Well, your Daddy in heaven won’t let go. He’s always holding on. Your Daddy in heaven won’t even let you ride your bike by yourself. That might seem a little over-protective, or foolish or maybe even downright frustrating. But for those of you who don’t ride very well, who keep getting tired of pedaling, keep hitting bumps or getting flat tires, having Daddy constantly beside you doesn’t seem so foolish. Indeed, it is a blessed gift.

In the eyes of this world you are all alive and well. You work hard. You improve. You make mistakes. You make choices. You do your best and sometimes you do your worst. In this world, the wisest and best things you can do are work hard and improve yourself. This is how you make money. This is how you get A’s in school. This is how you can love your family.

But in the eyes of God, you cannot save yourself by working hard and improving. That would be utterly foolish. You are as capable of producing faith or creating good works as a dead corpse. You just can’t do it. You are perfectly passive in the eyes of God to save yourself, unable to make even the first step toward God, your creator.

You are dead. There is nothing left for you to do for your salvation. God has accomplished everything. This is the message of the cross and it is foolish for those who are perishing, but for you, who are being saved, it is the power of God. You don't have to worry about death. God is taking care of that. Now, you can enjoy your life. Amen.

Sermon for August 31st

What does Jesus mean when he tells his disciples to “take up their cross and follow him.”? Consider the fact that up until this point, the disciples haven’t seen Jesus crucified on a cross yet. It hasn’t happened yet. So a cross, for them, is nothing special. It’s not salvific. It is not redemptive. It is simply a method for killing people. Why is this important? Because we have to distinguish between the crosses we bear and Jesus’ cross. The “crosses” you bear, your suffering, are not salvific or redemptive. The pain you have in your neck is simply that . . . a pain in the neck. It may be your “cross to bear” as the phrase goes, that pain in your neck, but it is much different than the cross Jesus had to bear. Your cross makes your life miserable for you while Jesus’ cross makes your life eternal for you.

Why is it so important to make this distinction? A distinction between your cross and Jesus’ cross? Because knowing the difference means that you can ask God to heal that pain in your neck without feeling bad, or ashamed or sinful or ungrateful to God. He intends you to have life and to have it abundantly. He listens to prayers for healing. He does not intend your life to be filled with horror, pain, fear and misery.

Many people believe that the pain in their life is their “cross to bear” as the saying goes. They believe that God has given it to them for their own good, or as a test, or as a punishment. Perhaps you have made the best of your pain under a mindset like this or learned something from all your problems and accepted them quite willingly. I am telling you that you may nail your crosses, your pain, your suffering and all your sin on Jesus’ cross. You don’t have to carry all that anymore. Call on Jesus to bear it all for you. He already bore the weight of your sin, your suffering, your pain and your death on his cross. Jesus was a pain to pain, suffering suffered at Jesus’ hands, death died once and for all on his cross. All those other “crosses that you bear” dim in comparison with the cross of Jesus.

There is a big difference between a cross you bear and Jesus’ cross. Many women have lived through a life of fear and abuse while being told that it was their “cross to bear”. Well that kind of cross leads only to death the way every other cross and crucifixion has, except one. Our crosses only lead to death and end there. Jesus’ cross is different. Jesus’ cross kills the power of death and leads to life. His cross alone and not any one of yours. Yet, the Devil always seeks to convince us that our “cross” is more important or integral to our virtue than Jesus’ cross. We are always tempted to hug our pain and suffering tightly to our chest, like a comforting teddy bear, rather than holding on tightly to the cross of Jesus—laying everything on him. There is a difference between your “cross to bear” and Jesus’ cross. One will always lead to death and stop there. The cross of Jesus leads you through death and then showers you with life.

When I lived in North Dakota on internship, I played in a racquetball league. Now, I tried very hard in this league but week after week I lost. It was very hard on my self-confidence, I must admit. I really dislike losing. But after three and then four weeks of losing I started thinking, “Well, hey, someone’s got to lose right? Why not me a future pastor? Someone who can really accept these loses with dignity. Someone who could bear that cross. Other people were happy to win at my expense? It was like I was doing them a favor. But then I won.

I won! And that was no good, because I had lost my virtue! My cross was stolen from me. By this time, I had become such a “good loser” that I missed that feeling of virtue once I had won. I know that this might sound a little weird, but I realized that I was actually attempting to use my suckiness at racquetball to defend myself from God. Yes, that’s right! Defend myself from God. How? If I could rely on my virtue and bear my own cross, I wouldn’t have to rely on God completely for my salvation. I thought I was being especially “Christian” when, really, I was just an especially bad racquetball player. Maybe my fellow players who were beating up on me each week thought favorably of my character, but God wasn’t impressed.

This is a common temptation. If we can’t be the best at something, we try to be really good at being the worst—martyrs hoping at least for pity if not for the prize. But in God’s eyes you and I are all the same and Jesus’ cross saves us all. We are sinners, not saints in ourselves. But when God finds us in Jesus Christ, we are saints through and through.

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” As I said before, remember that, for the disciples, Jesus hadn’t died on the cross yet, so what did a “cross” mean to them? They didn’t have the resurrection in mind the way we do. Crosses, to them, were for crucifixions. Crosses were for criminals. Crosses meant death, and not a nice way to die either.

Earlier, Jesus had just told his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering and be killed. Peter didn’t want this and he told Jesus so. You can imagine what the other disciples would have thought about this idea as well. Not too popular is my bet. But now Jesus is telling them, “I must die, even though you don’t want it to happen. And, if you are going to follow me, you might as well be carrying your own cross and prepare yourselves for death as well. Following me will get you killed. Deny yourselves and your desire to save your lives, leave your lives in my hands.

What would you do? Well, I’d probably run the other way. And, at the cross, that’s exactly what they all do. The disciples either betray Jesus, deny association with him, abandon him or watch everything from far away. It’s not until after Jesus’ resurrection that they are given faith to believe all that Jesus has told them: The cross he spoke of that day referred not only to their deaths, but also new lives. And later on, when they each marched off to their deaths whether carrying a cross or struck down with a sword, you can bet that they each believed that their lives were in God’s hands. They had tried to save their lives by abandoning Jesus at the cross, but they failed. Now that they would die for faith in Jesus, they could believe that God had chosen them for eternal life even after death.

If it hasn’t happened yet, every one of you will experience your own denial of Jesus, your disassociation with him, your doubt of God and your betrayal of your own morals. Thinking to save your life at every turn, no matter what the consequences, each one of you will die, “For the wages of sin are death.” But, my prayer for you is that when you have finally reached the end of your days, and there are no ways out, and death is approaching, you will finally realize and believe once again that God has chosen you for eternal life even after death. Your death has already died. Your sins are forgiven.

Jesus says, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” There is a difference between your crosses and the cross of Jesus. You have many and they all end at death. Jesus has one and his ends with life. Jesus calls you to follow him all the way to your death, but finally, not to trust in your deathyou’re your suffering, but in his death and resurrection for your hope and eternal life. Amen.

Sermon for August 17th

Who is the real hero in this story? Is it Jesus or the Canaanite woman? Who gets the glory? Who is the hero? Is it the woman’s faith we are to be amazed by or Jesus’ power we are to be awed at? Should we be upset by Jesus’ perceived racial intolerance? Should we be upset that the woman can’t take no for an answer? Who is the hero? Who gets the glory?

Throughout the Old and New Testaments, According to God, there are two types of people: the Jews and everyone else. According to the Jews, there were two types of people as well: the Jews and the Gentiles. Jews and barbarians. The children of God and the dogs. Jesus reflects this understanding in the passage today, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

Are any of you here Jews? No? Oh dear. Well, that is a problem. Because, you see, the Jews are God’s chosen people. Throughout the Bible, they are a chosen race. They are a nation set apart by God to be a blessing to others. And as the apostle Paul points out so clearly in the book of Romans, even after Jesus’ death and resurrection, they still are. Why? Because “the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable.”

Who is the hero in this story? Who gets the glory? As sinful human beings we are always asking this question. We are always seeking glory. We look for heroes. We like to see glory in ourselves or even in others so that we can reproduce it. This is probably why we like to watch things like the Olympics. We like to watch the best of the best and, if truth be told, we would like to be the best of the best ourselves. If I lived closer to an indoor pool, you’d better believe that you’d see me practing my 200 men’s freestyle . . . at least until I got lazy and stopped going just about the time the Olympics were over. We all love glory and are always seeking a way to find it for ourselves.

Of course, there is absolutely nothing wrong with this. In fact, competition is extremely important for our society. For a capitalist economy it is absolutely essential. Our appreciation of good work helps us understand our relationships with each other. I bet very few men or woman explain their choice of a spouse by saying, “I fell in love with him or her because they were so lazy or such a weakling or so annoying.” No. We look for the best. However, this glory seeking is very unhelpful in understanding our relationship with God.

Now, neither you nor I would argue that we are doing anything “glorious” when we do evil things like the things listed in the gospel today. The gospel author calls these things “evil intentions”. He lists murder, adultery, fornication, lying, stealing and slander. You can be sure that talking badly about someone, randomly killing another human being, or having sexual relationships with people other than your spouse is not pleasing to God. But even when we keep ourselves from these evil intentions, we get wrapped up in seeking our glory in other places and other ways.

So when we read the gospel today, we look for glory. Who’s got it and who hasn’t. Who’s the hero and who’s not. And I think that you and I really like it when, as least for a moment, someone besides Jesus looks like a hero.

Jesus says, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But the woman responds, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” How do you think the woman speaks to Jesus? With righteous indignation? Softly and passively? With tears in her eyes or with fire in her belly? Does she stand up to this intolerant Jesus as a heroine of the first century or does she try to reach out to Jesus’ sense of compassion to let him become the benevolent savior? You know what? I don’t think it matters. Why not? Because this passage isn’t about heroes and heroines, tolerance and intolerance at all. We may want to find these things in the story because that’s what we talk about in our lives, but we need to hear what is actually said in the passage.

No matter how this woman said what she said, it matters much more what she said. She spoke the truth. Or to be more accurate, she confessed the truth. She didn’t demand that Jesus give into her wishes by calling him an intolerant Canaaniteaphobe and a Jewish racist. She didn’t skulk away as a wilting flower hoping that Jesus would just forget all his silly rules and promises and heal her daughter because love conquers all! She confesses the truth, “I am a dog. I am a Canaanite. I am not a Jew. And you are my Lord and master. So don’t give me the children’s food. Give me only my crumbs. That is all I deserve.” And do you know what? With Jesus around it is a good day for the dogs.

With Jesus around it is a good day for the dogs. This story is not about heroes and glory the way we’d like it to be. The woman in the story is no better or worse than you. She sins, just like you. Her children get sick just like yours do. She is not a Jew, she is a dog . . . just like you. And she knows the truth just like you. Now, knowing the truth might not seem like a big deal to you, in fact, it might even feel a bit degrading. But as Jesus says in the gospel of John, once you know the truth, the truth will set you free. But set free from what?

Well, to start off, you are set free from seeking glory from a mirror. Finding glory in yourself. You are not a Jews so you don’t have to look at what your parents and ancestors did or didn’t do to know how much God loves you. God doesn’t love you because you are white or Hispanic or Chinese or Canadian. God doesn’t love you because you were born into the right family or not. God’s love isn’t based on that.

What else are you set free from? You are set free from seeking Olympic glory. Seeking glory for what you do or how well you do it. God doesn’t need you to be a hero in order to earn his love. God doesn’t need you to win eleven gold medals to earn his love. God doesn’t need you to prove your love for him in order to earn his love. In fact, you can’t earn God’s love. God’s love for you isn’t based on that either.

What is God’s love based on? Jesus Christ. Jesus lived for you and died for you so that God’s love for you would always be based on Jesus’ choice. Who does he choose? Sinners, the undeserving, the worst of the worst, the dogs of this world . . . he chooses you. He loves you. So the next time you need a little love or healing or deliverance or compassion or salvation just confess the truth to God. “I am sick. I was wrong. I am helpless. I am a sinner. I don’t understand. I am a dog. Master, where are my crumbs.”

It is a good day for the dogs. That is good news for you and me. We are not Jews, we are Gentiles. We are dogs. Today, come to your Master’s table. Today he is handing out some crumbs at his supper. That is all you deserve and it is also, thankfully, all you need for the forgiveness of yours sins and eternal life.

Let us pray, “Dear God. We are dogs. We are sinners. We are weak, you are strong. And when you are done pouring out your unconditional love upon the Jews, your chosen people, thank you for dropping a few crumbs of love on the floor for us. For out of your abundance we are fed with the same one heavenly food. Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. Our breadcrumb from heaven. Amen.”

Sermon for July 6th

“Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus going on before. Christ, the royal master, leads against the foe; forward into battle, see, his banners go. Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus going on before.” Many Christians have a love/hate relationship with this song. They like the tune, but they don’t like the implications of the song. What it might mean for thinking about God. What it might mean for thinking about ourselves.

Christians, in American culture, are often portrayed as peaceful, weak, quiet, bland sissies. Many Christians themselves believe that when you come to church you have to leave your passion, your strength, your assertiveness and your intelligence at the door. Church is considered to be mainly for women and children, the older the women and the younger the children, the better. Talking about soldiers, wars, battles, kings and banners flying sounds more like an action adventure movie than a Sunday morning sermon.

So, this song, “Onward Christian soldiers,” is an anachronism, full of ideas that seem out of place for our time. Today, Jesus is talked about as loving, tolerant and peaceful, not, as the song puts it, a royal master, leading us against enemies, forward into battle with banners blazing behind and before. Does this song belong in our church hymnal or have we finally outlived the usefulness for these types of metaphors when describing God in our civilized peace-loving day and age?

God’s Word is sharper than any two edged sword, that is, it cuts both ways. It cuts to the right and it cuts to the left. For those of you who imagine Jesus as simply a non-violent pacifist, he brings a sword! He is the same God who led the Israelites in countless wars against their foes. He doesn’t pray for peace as we do, in quiet prayer groups or at night before bed, he commands it! He is assertive! He doesn’t stay a baby in swaddling clothes forever, but as the reading from Zechariah says, he comes as a king, triumphant and victorious.

Jesus Christ cannot be labeled as purely an anti-war flower child. As Jesus said a couple of weeks ago in our gospel lesson, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” Jesus is a peacemaker, this is true, but he is also not the namby-pamby many people make him out to be. He is a king, a warrior, a prince. In our reading from Zechariah today, the author uses the symbolism of war and battle, of fighting and arms to express God’s deeds of power, his glory. However, the glory that is expected, the glory is not what we had imagined. The glory is that of peace and humility.

God’s word is sharper than any two edged sword. It cuts both ways. The Jews imagined their Messiah as a victorious warrior king. If Jesus was this Messiah, their Savior, many Jews figured it was time for a little payback against the nations that had power over them. They expected Jesus to destroy their enemies and trample the bodies into the dust. For those of you who imagine Jesus as simply a battle-hero, an awesome warrior king!—he comes humbly riding on a donkey. He doesn’t take prisoners of war, the reading today says he sets free the prisoners of hope. He doesn’t pillage neighboring towns for retribution for his people, he restores double to those who were exiled from their homes out of his own kingly coffers.

Jesus undermined the symbols of glory and power for those hungry for destruction and dominion among the Jews. With these same symbols, he offends the civilized sensibilities of those of us hungry for comfort and tolerance in our day. God’s word cuts both ways, to the right and to the left.

We worship the God who freed the oppressed Israelites from their slavery to the Egyptians. Yes we do. But we also worship the God who drowned Pharaoh and his army in the waters of the Red Sea in order to seal this escape. It’s the same God. We worship the God who gave us eternal life through Jesus Christ, and the God who sent his only son to death on a cross. It’s the same God. We worship the God who commands peace, but brings a sword. It’s the same God. God is not the battle hero we all want him to be nor is he the pacifist we all want him to be.

We are in the midst of wars across the world in Iraq and Afghanistan. You are all intelligent citizens and can make up your own minds about how you think and deal with these things politically. I’m not going to tell you what to do. I’m not going to tell you what to believe or that God is on one side or the other because he is on both. God knows the necessity of war and the pain of war. God knows the sins of war and the righteousness of war.

The more you hear God’s Word, read it at home and converse with others about it, the more it affects your understanding and beliefs. However, as soon as you or I try and wield it like an axe against others either to lead the war charge or to cut off an olive branch, the axe head falls off and stubs our toes. This doesn’t mean that we aren’t to judge based on God’s word. It means that God does the judging—with his words—and that he always judges you and me with his words before we can see start swinging at the log in our neighbors’ eyes.

Today’s reading from Zechariah was not written as an oracle about the war in Iraq or Afghanistan. It was an oracle for the Israelites coming out of exile. This reading strengthens our faith in God and informs our understanding of how to faithfully live our lives during these wars, but we cannot take these verses and chastise our neighbors or government without taking at look at ourselves first. The words interpret us first, pointing out our sins and then pointing out our hope. God knows that war and peace will come and go. We are driven to seek hope in God’s righteousness and not in our own.

You have a God who is not unfamiliar with wars and battles. He has led the charge, he has healed the wounded and he has buried the dead. He has even died on a cross. He knows what it is to suffer, to be despised, to be punished and to be struck down in a battle. Not just against evil but against the devil himself. There are people we love at home and abroad who are fighting for this country and being placed in harms way. We can trust that God is there with them, fighting with them, suffering with them and protecting them from harm. And when death happens on the battlefield, from friendly fire or from a road bomb or from an ambush, we can trust that their Lord and Savior will not leave them or forsake them just because they are part of a war. He has been there before.

You also have a God who is not unfamiliar with the struggle for peace and the end of war. He has promised long ago to judge between many peoples and nations, that they will beat their swords into plowshares and use their spears for pruning hooks. There will come a time when nation shall not lift up sword against nation and not learn war any more. He has not only called us to peace, but has taken it on himself to command peace to nations. Peace is finally God’s responsibility even while we do our best to pray for that peace to come. You can trust that God is listening to your prayers for peace. He doesn’t want any soldiers from any nation to die whether they are Christians or not, for as the book of Ezekiel proclaims, “God finds no pleasure in the death of the wicked.” Instead, he is always seeking those who are lost so that they might turn to him and live, not only happily on this earth but also eternally in heaven.

God loves you. When you are in the midst of wars and battles, he fights alongside you with the goal of giving you peace as the prize. When you are praying for peace, he will do battle with the forces of evil, apathy and destruction and command that peace as a triumphant and glorious king. His love is not based on your political preference. You are made right with God by faith alone. You are loved by both a peaceful and a powerful God. Amen.

Sermon for June 8th

“Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.”

Martin Luther explained that there are two ways looking at the world. Two ways of reading scripture. Two ways of talking about God. Two ways of talking about ourselves. These two ways, or two paths, though similar, lead us in very different directions. One path leads up to heaven. One path leads down to earth. One path is the way of glory. The other is the way of the cross.

The way of glory is quite magnificent. It is the way we are taught in school, “Good, better, best. Never let it rest. Till your good is better and your better is the best.” We pray that God will bless us and our families with health, wealth and opportunity. We want to be proud of ourselves and our accomplishments. Even our country is founded on these basic principles: life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. We are always in pursuit of glory.

The way of the cross is not magnificent. It is awful. This is the path that we are taught to avoid. When you walk down the streets of New York—not the streets you are supposed to walk down, the streets that haven’t been cleaned up—that’s where you find the people who are pointed at and whispered about because of their lack of glory. “I don’t want to end up like them,” people. “I feel so bad for them,” people. “Don’t stare at them honey,” people. “They’ll just spend it on booze,” people. We all learned somewhere that those kinds of people got themselves into that mess, or their parents did it to them, or they are sick in the head. Either way, none of us wants our kids or grandkids near them because they are dirty, dangerous and sick. We pray that never happens to us. It is a pitiful life. It is a shameful life.

There are two ways of looking at the world, the way of glory and the way of the cross. There are also two ways of reading scripture. The way of glory and the way of the cross. Beginning with the creation of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden, this is how the story is usually told.

God created a perfect man and a perfect woman in perfect relationship to God. But they were tempted. They sinned. They fell from grace. Sin and suffering entered the world. From that point on people got sick, they fought with each other, they had to wear clothes instead of fig leaves, and, most distressingly, they died. According to this story, Jesus’ death on the cross is thought to be God’s answer to all this sin, suffering and death. To get rid of sin. To make us perfect again just like we were back in the garden of Eden. It’s like one big repair job and God is the master mechanic who restores creation to its original glory. A fall from glory and then a return to glory. It is finally a story of glory.

But in the shadow of the cross, the story sounds different. In fact, from this perspective, it sounds like an altogether different tale. According to the actual words written in Genesis Adam and Eve don’t appear that glorious. They are created to take care of the earth. They are made to take care of each other. They are told to be fruitful and multiply. They simply rely on God for everything. Not glorious enough, it seems, for they wanted to become more. Become like God. Become creators rather than creatures. Just being creatures was not enough.

This is not so much a story of lost glory, but of a desire for more glory. There was no fall at all. It was more like a leap! Adam and Eve competing for the gold medal in the high jump. Seeking a way beyond the high bar of God’s authority. They wanted to be on top. And we have been seeking that very same glory ever since.

Jesus’ death on a cross looks very different according to this story. The cross is not a repair job for fallen creatures. The cross is an attack against sin and sinning creatures. Jesus dies on a cross not to make you more like God, but to make you more like a creature. Not so that you will look more glorious, but so that you will look more to God for your salvation. Not so that you will look more glorious, but so that you will look more to God for your healing. Not so that you will look more glorious, but so that you will look more to God for your daily bread.

“Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.” Because there are two ways of looking at the world and because there are two ways of reading scripture, there are also two ways we talk about how God works in our lives. The way of glory and the way of the cross.

There were two stories of healing spoken of in the gospel today. The healing of a young child, who was dead, and the healing of a long suffering woman. When the focus is on the way of glory, we can only see that Jesus powerfully works in these peoples’ lives to restore them to health. That is the miracle. He gives them the ability to live fuller lives or to try and believe in him. But, remember, Jesus only did ministry for three years. That’s it. Not long at all. So the cross becomes to look a little bit disappointing in our eyes. Just imagine all the good Jesus could have done if he could have just lasted a little longer! The cross becomes the problem. It gets in the way of all the glory Jesus was doing. We’d rather look past the cross instead of looking at it.

But when the focus is on the cross, these two healings are not finally where we can place our hope. Can you imagine that poor little girl after she was raised from the dead! Her Father probably never let her out of the house again for fear that she might die again! Would Jesus be within walking distance the next time? Jesus’ acts of healing finally force us to realize that we cannot place our trust in those healings alone. We must place our trust in the God who is the power behind these healings—God who has the power to heal, the power over both death and life. Even when we are healed miraculously, the fear of death remains.

After Jesus has healed, after Jesus has cast out demons, after Jesus has fed five thousand people, after Jesus calms the storm Jesus hangs from his hands and feet, because there is still that problem of sin. Real sinners placed Jesus on the cross, not just people who needed a little help improving themselves. Jesus said that it was necessary that he die for the sake of the world; not just to fix us up, but to destroy our hopes of finding glory anywhere else. We can only find our glory in Jesus’ death on the cross. The last place we would think of looking. The last place we want to look.

Jesus finally has to save us even from healing. He needs to save us from a life of sin and suffering where people need to be healed of their sicknesses. He needs to save us from a world the Devil still runs rampant and destroys peoples’ lives. That means that we are left in a very inglorious position. As creatures—nothing more and nothing less. And so we go to the doctor, and pray for the healing of depression, and visit psychiatrists, and go to chiropractors because we are doing what God has created us to do. We are taking care of one another. We are taking care of God’s creation, knowing that even God’s healing finds its completion at the cross.

As I said at the beginning, there are two paths to take. One path leads to heaven. One path leads to earth. Of course, our first reaction, our natural tendency, is to take the path that leads to heaven and leave the earth, our relationships, our bodies, and our sufferings behind. To say good riddance. That is the road to glory; the road we all choose to take. However, it is only the path of the cross that leads to eternal life. The path where Jesus dies very ingloriously at our hands. The path where your feet are securely on the ground and God comes down to show you the depths of his love.

The way of glory assumes that people are doing fine on their own, but that they just need a little boost from God to make that final step to glory. The way of the cross assumes that people are sick and cannot get better by themselves. They are in need or more than a boost into heaven . . . they need a savior.

“For those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.”