Crushing Condemnation

(Romans 8:1-10)

Though we may not readily admit it, we care what other people think of us. Their opinion, their judgment of us, matters to us. Now, while we try to manage their opinions in such a way that maintains a healthy balance between not caring too much or too little of what others think of us, we often end up tipping the scale to one extreme or the other: we either place far too much emphasis on how others feel about us, or far too little. 

Putting too much emphasis on what others think of us leaves us with a people-pleasing anxiety. That often means that our mood or the way we feel about ourselves rises and falls with the tide of positive or negative feedback we receive from others. We can be elated when receiving praise or commendation from others or deflated when hit with cruel words or criticism. The problem is, we have absolutely zero control over the words or actions of others toward us on any given day. We therefore enslave ourselves to feedback from others that, upon further inspection, may not have much to do with us at all, but instead may simply be the result of a good or bad day they’re having. So this does not leave us in an emotionally healthy place.

On the other hand, we can also become too indifferent to the impression others have of us that we come across as pompous or self-absorbed. Then we come across as always having a chip on our shoulder and resenting anyone else’s opinion of us, being completely unwelcoming of any commentary at all on our life. When that’s the case, we are perceived as prickly and rude, only looking out for number one. So caring too little about others’ opinions of us has its own problems! 

As if not enough of a challenge for us to handle other peoples’ opinions and judgment of us, perhaps the judgment that causes us the most consternation is the judgment we place on ourselves. We might do a good job of masking it behind bravado or overconfidence, but our low opinion of ourselves, our self-criticisms often leave us believing the absolute worst about ourselves, judging ourselves far more harshly than anyone else. You become aware of this as you pay attention to how you talk to yourself in your own mind. “I could never be good at that.” “I did a horrible job of this.” “He or she would not like someone like me.” “Surprise, surprise, I messed up again.” We are often our own worst critics.

Check that – there may be one more critic that hits us harder than even our own self-criticism and judgment: the way God’s law exposes us for who we really are. Then, to cap it all off, the more we know God’s Word, the more acutely aware we become of how impossible it will ever be to measure up to God’s standard of perfection. We have all come across one Scripture verse or another that describes in detail the kind of person we want to be, exuding this quality or that quality. We then commit to making the effort to be that very kind of person, demonstrating those very qualities, and it goes well… until the first time it doesn’t. And then the second. And the third. 

Suddenly the verse that we felt such a strong pull toward actually pushes us away and we’re relieved to let go of it because it was too hard to keep. Those experiences with God’s Word and the judgment we feel as a result make us acutely aware that the Bible is absolutely not a series of self-help steps to follow in order to get in good with God; rather, it shows us how far out of touch with his holiness we truly are. Along with that, it shows how deserving we are of the judgment God’s law declares!

How refreshing then, dear friends, are Paul’s words to us this morning! Writing to hearts that are heavy with judgment from others, judgment from self, and the awareness of the very well-deserved judgment from God’s law itself, Paul writes, “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1)

Hear him again: “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” I ask you, is that a complicated statement? Does it require a theological expert or Bible academic to explain it to you? It doesn’t, because it really doesn’t get much simpler than that. “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). 

To worn-out souls living in what’s been called the “age of outrage,” a cancel-culture filled with judgment and anger, God himself has an entirely different declaration: “no condemnation.”  Not only is this such a refreshing, uncharacteristic verdict in our day and age, but it’s even more impactful as we consider the source. This verdict comes from the One whose judgment matters most. In fact, of all the judgments, his is the only one really worth paying attention to. 

Why? Jesus himself warned, “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell” (Mt. 10:28). God is finally the One who determines where we spend eternity. He alone is able to sentence anyone to an eternity of distress in hell or delight in heaven. And friends, his verdict is not a secret! He has already revealed it! There is no condemnation!

I suppose we should mention the fine print, the little disclaimer you often find at the bottom of the page, the one that says “certain restrictions apply.” There is a restriction – this declaration of no condemnation applies to those who are in Christ Jesus. 

Exactly what does it mean to be “in Christ Jesus”? Paul wrote earlier in this same letter to the Romans, “This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe” (3:22). So God has not, as some falsely claim, declared that everyone automatically goes to heaven and no one goes to hell. No, this guaranteed assurance of no condemnation belongs only to those with faith in Christ Jesus. The righteousness – just a way of saying, “being right with God” – belongs only to those who are in Christ Jesus, because he alone was perfectly right before God in our place. So only if we are “in” him – have faith in him, does God’s declaration stand. Only “in Christ Jesus” is there no condemnation. 

Think of it like the umbrella you might be wise to have on hand the next day or two. If the forecast holds true and you’ve got your trusty umbrella with you when you’re out and about, the rain shouldn’t be a problem – provided you stay under the umbrella. If you don’t bother to open the umbrella and then stay under it, however, there’s no assurance you’ll stay dry. Stay under the umbrella, stay dry; step out from under it, get wet. 

So it is with God’s condemnation. Stay in Christ Jesus, no condemnation; step away from him and outside of the faith, and there is condemnation. 

But remember that condemnation was not the reason Jesus came! Jesus himself really expressed that truth long before Paul even wrote Romans. Jesus said it like this: “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned” (John 3:17-18a). It’s interesting to hear others label Christians as judgmental, seeing as judgment – condemnation – overlooks the important truth that Jesus came for the very opposite purpose: to save, not to condemn! 

While it’s one thing for an obstinate, hardened unbeliever to characterize us as judgmental simply because he refuses to acknowledge the gravity and consequence of his impenitent sin, let us not relish that label or wear it as a badge of honor if the world never sees in us the reflection of the Son who came to save and not to condemn. 

Instead, may we reflect on an ongoing basis one of the most powerful words of Paul in verse one and let that ring true in our daily lives: the word “Now.” At this very moment. Right now. And when you leave here this morning. And when you are hit with the next wave of judgment this week. And… “Now” always applies. It’s always in the present. There is never a moment outside of now – it’s the only moment you constantly live in. Now. And in that very moment, every moment, for those who are in Christ Jesus, right now there is no condemnation. 

Does that reality impact how you live? How could it not?!? “Now” then, how do we live? “Those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires” (v.5). And that, dear friends, is how the world will come to know that we’ve been set apart for God’s special purpose. When our minds are set on what the Holy Spirit desires, and not self, we will stick out to the rest of the world. Sometimes that will make us awkward to the world, yes.

But in truth, it also makes us very attractive. When you live in the joy of knowing that right now you are not condemned because you are in Christ Jesus, you look different to the world. When the way that you carry out your job at work is in line with what the Spirit desires, your coworkers are attracted to you as an employee. When your neighborhood sees that you are a neighbor who treats others in the neighborhood in a way that is in line with what the Spirit desires, they are attracted to you as a neighbor. When others see in your marriage a husband and wife who have their mindset on what the Spirit desires, your marriage becomes very attractive. No, this isn’t rocket science – the world is used to seeing plenty of people living according to fleshly desires, so whenever the world sees us living in accordance with what the Spirit desires, we look very different. It attracts attention.

Let us then make the most of that attention not for self-promotion or to puff up ourselves, but to clearly point out what makes us different, which is simply this: we know and believe “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). Then, when we’ve got their ear, in a world characterized by criticism and judgment, tell them that they, too, have a Savior who has crushed condemnation. 

His Faithfulness Crushes Self-Security

(1 Corinthians 10:1-13)

If you have a driver’s license, you’ve experienced it. You catch a glimpse in your rearview mirror of a car accelerating rapidly. As it gets closer, you realize it’s a police car and you start to get nervous, realizing you were going over the speed limit. You tense up, hoping he doesn’t pull up behind you, ride your bumper, and turn on his lights to pull you over.

But suddenly he simply zips by you and you are flooded with relief. What do you do next? Do you slow down, vowing never to exceed the speed limit again because you’re grateful you got away with it that time? Or… do you maintain the same speed – or even speed up! – because you reason that you’ll be in good shape just as long as you stay behind the police car?!? 

We do something similar at work when we’re taking an extended break or a longer-than-allowed lunch. The boss or manager comes along and we panic… until they continue along without a rebuke or a write-up – or they even sit down and join us! After that, do you vow to never do it again, or do you reason that it must be permissible since you didn’t get in trouble? 

Children draw the same conclusion when mom or dad don’t enforce the rules. If they aren’t enforced, then it must be OK to break them, they figure.

Today, though, Paul wants to make sure that we don’t approach our relationship with God the same way we tend to handle situations like those just mentioned. He doesn’t want us to mistake God’s patience for permission. Simply because we didn’t get caught or avoided consequences for some wrongdoing does not translate into God being okay with it. 

These thirteen verses from 1 Corinthians 10 almost break down into nice even thirds, with each third serving as a crescendo into a glorious final faith-building chord. First, Paul identifies the source of self-security. Second, he highlights the “success” of self-security. Third, he points to the only solution to self-security. 

Before we dig into those verses a bit more, let’s just focus on the concept of self-security for a moment. When a term like that hits our religious ears, we likely think of those who don’t practice any religion or feel any need whatsoever to do so. They are confident in themselves, self-assured, and certain that in the grand scheme of things, they have nothing to worry about if there does in fact turn out to be a God. They’re pretty good people (at least better than plenty of others…). They are not drawn to be religious because they don’t perceive it as having anything to offer that they don’t already have or can’t figure out on their own. But self-security isn’t just an issue for the non-religious; it’s a danger that needs to be on our radar, too.

Doing the right religious things can also be a source of self-security. That’s when the practice of religion becomes a means to an end; when a relationship with the divine is viewed more as a transactional relationship. I simply deposit my religious acts for the purpose of being able to withdraw security or some other expected favor when I need it. It may simply be that my security comes from the structure and routine of doing the right religious things or having the right religious connections. It might appear externally to look a lot like what the Israelites had. 

Take note of the source of the Israelites’ self-security, to which Paul pointed in the first four verses. There was no doubt about God’s presence in their midst – he made it very visible, from the pillar of cloud by day and pillar of fire by night as they traversed the wilderness. There was no doubt about God’s divine hand in parting the waters of the Red Sea as they escaped Egypt. There was no doubt about God’s role in providing the miraculous manna and means by which he satisfied their hunger and thirst in the desert. And there was no doubt that God had appointed Moses as his leader and representative through whom he delivered and prospered his people. There was no doubt that God was with them!

And then in the very next verse, Paul absolutely shatters this rosy perspective of the Israelites’ relationship with the Lord using these words: “Nevertheless, God was not pleased with most of them; their bodies were scattered over the desert” (v.5). You can almost hear the sound of the vinyl record scratching to a screeching halt as these words were read for the first time – what an attention grabber! What a shocking image to cap off what appeared to be shaping up as an “And they lived happily ever after” ending! There was no doubt that God himself was with them, yet the trail of dead bodies strewn about in their rear-view mirror as they made their way to the promised land was evidence that things were not as they seemed! 

Assuming Paul now has our undivided attention, perhaps it’s prudent to assess whether or not we’re looking to the same source of self-security. The Israelites presumed they had all their bases covered. They had God’s right-hand man in Moses leading them, God himself guiding them with his visible presence and making miracles wherever necessary to provide for their needs. 

Where do we presume to have all of our bases covered? What is the source of our own spiritual self-security? Is it found in the emphasis on doctrine and teaching in our Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod (WELS)? Is the way that we worship (the “right” way) the source of our self-security, or our nearly spotless church attendance or Bible class attendance record (choose the better of the two, of course)? Is it having graduated from either one of our elementary schools or high schools (bonus points for both!) or having kids who have done so (even if it’s been years since they’ve set foot in God’s house again for worship)? Does the reassurance that a loved one “believes,” provide self-security, without bothering with the finer details of exactly who or what is “believed”? If we look to such things for the source of self-security, then we’re in for the kind of rude awakening the Israelites experienced!

Paul didn’t just leave us hanging after touching on the source of self-security for the Israelites; he also highlighted the grisly examples of the “success” of self-security. Where did their idolatry, sexual immorality, testing God, and grumbling get them? What kind of success did they enjoy from their self-security? One day 23,000 died, another day venomous snakes struck, and still another day a destroying angel took out the complainers. If that’s the kind of “success” that self-security brings, I’ll take a hard pass!

And herein lies the problem: the fact that we don’t experience those sorts of obvious judgments leads us to falsely conclude that our self-security is sufficient! Since I managed to avoid the poisonous snakes and the destroying angel, then God must be OK with me, right? I can have it both ways, looking to all the wrong things for self-security, while concluding that my idolatry, sexual immorality, testing God, and complaining clearly get a pass, since God hasn’t judged me. We are lulled into the false sense of security, thinking that we can manage to balance what the Israelites couldn’t – we can have it both ways. God is clearly with us, evidenced by all of our religious acts of righteousness, which provides the assurance he’s not really all that concerned about my idolatry, my sexual immorality, my testing, or my complaining. 

Paul says to wake up and smell the coffee! “These things happened to them as examples and were written down as warnings for us, on whom the fulfillment of the ages has come. So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!” (v.11-12). In the initial examples at the beginning, we see how relaxed we become about breaking the rules if they aren’t enforced. Don’t make the same mistake with God! Just because our sin appears to go along unchecked, sometimes without consequences, do not reason that God is OK with it! Paul warns us to learn from the Israelites’ example! Just as God’s vivid presence in the midst of his people was not an indicator of relaxed expectations of his people, so your consistent Christian obedience does not grease the skids to permit self-serving sin! There is no success to be found in self-security!

So what is the solution? We know the source of self-security and we know the “success” of self-security (or lack thereof!). The real concern, then, is the solution to self-security. That’s what we need to know, because it’s only a matter of time before each of us slips in and out of that same self-security. So how do we solve it?

We don’t, as Paul assures us. God does. The solution is tucked right there in the three words of verse 13: “God is faithful.” God is faithful. While Paul didn’t hesitate to use the example of the Israelite death count in the desert wilderness as a warning, we also know this: Israelites still ended up in the Promised Land! They made it to the land God had promised his people. Not because of their faithfulness – clearly! – but because of God’s faithfulness. Then Israel established itself as a nation in the special land, only to endure far more downs than ups during the time of the kings and ultimately the exile. But even though he was deserted by his people, did God ever desert them in return? No, because God is faithful and keeps his promises.

The manger in Bethlehem was proof that God is faithful. The cross on Calvary was proof that God is faithful. The empty tomb of Joseph of Arimathea was proof that God is faithful. All served as proof of God’s faithfulness then and God’s faithfulness now!

Even when it comes to the temptation to rely on self-security – or any other temptation, for that matter – God doesn’t dismiss the struggle of temptation. He doesn’t deny that it will happen. He simply promises that he is the solution. He is the solution not only to standing up in the face of temptation, but also the solution for when we faceplant in the heat of temptation. 

While God’s faithful patience is not permission – remember the snakes and the destroying angel! – his faithful patience does mean limitless forgiveness and grace. And with that grace and forgiveness comes a resolve, a resiliency, not from ourselves, but from him, to find our security in him alone. He will not fail us – even when we fail in temptation. He will not forget us – even when we forget about him in our seasons of self-security. He will always forgive, for God is faithful. And his faithfulness crushes all self-security every time.

Shortcuts Crushed by Determination

(Luke 13:31-35)

We are no strangers to the many advantages shortcuts can provide. Books and websites are filled with shortcuts and hacks that promise an easier way for just about anything. We have experienced the benefits of shortcuts in a lot of different ways. When we’re scrambling to be on time getting from Point A to Point B and a passenger in the vehicle shares knowledge of a shortcut, no one complains – that’s a good thing. Keyboard shortcuts when typing can save a lot of headaches and unnecessary keystrokes. Other shortcuts promise endless ways to help you get more done in less time, whether at work, cleaning the house, or in the kitchen. We know how valuable shortcuts can be. 

In the verses from Luke 13, we see a shortcut proposed to our Savior. It wasn’t a shortcut that merely offered to shave some time off his busy schedule so he could get more done. No, it promised substantially more than that. Would he take the shortcut? Could he take the shortcut? What would it mean for him? What would it mean for us?   

There were others seeking a shortcut in our verses from Luke today, too. We don’t know if what the Pharisees were passing along was the truth or not. Had Herod really threatened Jesus’ life, or had the Pharisees constructed a lie themselves in hopes that such a threat would be enough to scare him off when they told Jesus, “Leave this place and go somewhere else. Herod wants to kill you” (v.31). While we can’t be certain of the origin of this information, what we do know is that the Pharisees did not make it a habit of having Jesus’ best interest in mind, so in sharing this information with Jesus, the desired outcome they were hoping for is clear: they wanted Jesus to skip town and get as far away from Jerusalem – their turf! – as possible. Consider how much time and trouble it would have saved the Pharisees if Jesus had simply left town! What an alluring shortcut that could have been for them to not have to plot and scheme in order to devise a solution for the problem of Jesus! This shortcut could have made it so much easier for them!

But… is easier always better? Is the tradeoff always worth it? Do shortcuts end up delivering on the promises they make? It probably shouldn’t bother me as much as it does, but when I’m hiking and see another hiker take a shortcut, either cutting through a switch-back or just straying from the trail, the cranky old curmudgeon inside my head shouts, “You’re only cheating yourself!” A coach or a trainer is going to be less than thrilled to hear about shortcuts being taken in practice or in the gym. Any runner or cyclist in any sort of long-distance race is going to be disqualified for taking a shortcut. And, if you’ve ever dabbled in any DIY projects, you know that shortcuts can end up being very expensive in the long run, either requiring more time, more work, or more money down the road (or all three!).

Unhealthy shortcuts can also actually leave us worse off than when we started. We’ll take just about any shortcut in our culture today that avoids pain or suffering. In terms of our health, for just about any negative symptom one could experience, there is a drug that promises relief. So rather than changing eating habits or exercising, we opt for the pharmaceutical shortcut. When work is a challenge or a relationship is hurting, we can resort to unhealthy shortcuts to feeling better, like drinking or binge-watching. Even suicide, as much as it shatters the lives of those it affects, is viewed increasingly by our culture as an acceptable shortcut to avoid some element of suffering.

If shortcuts are not always what they’re cracked up to be, then it’s probably good to evaluate some of those spiritual shortcuts that have also slipped into the church. Sometimes we have to confess the reason behind them is our own spiritual immaturity – we want to have the strong faith we see in someone else, but without all the time they’ve spent in Word and worship and prayer over the years. We want patience, but without having to endure the trials that someone else went through to grow it. 

Other times, spiritual shortcuts can start out with good intentions, but end up having less than desirable results. Being able to give offerings to the Lord online has been a huge blessing for churches throughout COVID, and a convenient way to set up a shortcut by setting up recurring offerings and not having to take the time to write out a check (ask your parents if you don’t know…). However, if the end result is that I never give my offerings a second thought, is the shortcut worth it? Recorded and streaming video online has allowed worship to be accessible when we were not able to meet in person. But, if that medium has completely replaced meeting in person when we’re perfectly healthy enough to do so, is that shortcut worth it to sacrifice the Supper and many other blessings of people in pews that will never be accessible via video? 

We have to be real and clear about why we’re taking the shortcut. If we don’t know why we’re doing it, then we run the risk of enslaving ourselves to shortcuts without considering if we’ve actually gained anything from them! What we often fail to do is consider the opportunity cost of our shortcuts. If you aren’t familiar with that phrase, it simply refers to the practice of being aware of how much something really costs.

For example, if you have been saving up for a trip for some time, but then some shiny new kitchen appliance comes on the market that you “must” have, if you take the money from what you’ve been saving for your trip, then that means you’ll either have to put off the trip longer or maybe not go. So the opportunity cost was not just the price tag of the kitchen appliance, but also realizing what you’re giving up or going without when you decide to make that purchase.

Shortcuts are the same way. When we seek to take a shortcut, we don’t always consider the tradeoff or sacrifice. Maybe a simple question to ask ourselves: with this shortcut what am I giving up and what do I gain, and is it worth it? What am I avoiding and what do I attain, and is it worth it? A shortcut that gets a person from point A to point B faster might be worth it to one person because of the time it saves, but to another, it might not if that shortcut requires driving through what feels like an unsafe part of town. One person may determine the opportunity cost of a shortcut is worth it, while another may not.

Let’s now return back to Jesus and to the course of action the Pharisees proposed. What exactly was the potential shortcut for Jesus, and how would he weigh the opportunity cost of the temptation to take it? What would he be giving up and what would he gain? What would he be avoiding and what would he attain? It seemed pretty clear that the shortcut the Pharisees were offering Jesus was to avoid something: death! The choice must have seemed a no-brainer in their minds as they pointed it out to Jesus – leave town and avoid dying! If you value your life, just keep your distance from Herod and you’ll be just fine. Give up going to Jerusalem and what you stand to gain is your life!

So… shortcut or no shortcut for Jesus? His answer was quite clear. “He replied, “Go tell that fox, ‘I will keep on driving out demons and healing people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will reach my goal.’ In any case, I must press on today and tomorrow and the next day—for surely no prophet can die outside Jerusalem!” (v.32-33). Jesus wasn’t taking the bait. He wasn’t interested in the shortcut. In fact, he knew the shortcut wasn’t even an option, insisting that he “must” press on. This is a word Jesus uses elsewhere in the Gospels when explaining why he has to take a certain course of action. There is so much more wrapped up in it than how we use it. We take it to mean that we have to do something to avoid consequences. I “must” do this or I’ll get fired, I “must” do that or I’ll lose screen time, I “must” complete this or I’ll get a bad grade, I “must” file taxes on time or I’ll have to pay a penalty. Our “must” is to avoid a negative.

Not so with Jesus. His “must” is to ensure a positive: our salvation. The opportunity cost of the shortcut Jesus was offered was simply not worth it. Jesus “must” press on because souls are at stake. He must press on because eternity hangs in the balance. He must press on because Jesus’ perfect and holy heart cares more about completing his Father’s will than even his own personal well-being. He must press on because there was no other acceptable payment plan for covering the cost of sin – only the shedding of his priceless blood would serve as payment. He must press on to die, so that through his death we might live. 

Jesus could not take the shortcut, not when it served only to allow him to give up or avoid something; he was more interested in what his suffering and death would gain, what they would attain for mankind. So he was resolutely determined to do what he “must” do to make it happen. No shortcut would allow him to succeed in carrying out that goal. And he was determined to carry it out for everyone – even the very enemies trying to talk him out of it. 

In one last-ditch effort, Jesus threw out to them the life-line of repentance, warning them not to follow in the footsteps of their ancestors: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing. Look, your house is left to you desolate. I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord’” (v. 34-35). The invitation to repentance is an open-ended one for you and for me, too. Confess the spiritual shortcuts that we’re all too willing to take. Repent for all the times we have opted out of the burden of carrying our cross and following Jesus in favor of the cross-less shortcut. 

Then turn to the cross that Jesus not only carried but also died on… because he willingly chose to crush any shortcut that would sidestep your salvation. The opportunity cost of saving his own life and losing yours for eternity wasn’t worth it. So he died. And now we get to live. And he promises to give to you and to me the strength to bear the crosses that come up in our lives as Christians. We can face the difficult and the demanding without searching for the nearest exit or shortcut, for we have a Savior who with dogged determination not only secured our salvation by his own cross, but who also promises that he’ll always be right there with us to help us carry our crosses as well.

Crushing Temptation

(Hebrews 4:14-16)

We’ve all done our share of daydreaming about what our lives would be like if we had certain things in life. Yes, it can be a very fine line between simply letting our imaginations entertain such possibilities for a time and having an unhealthy preoccupation with something that amounts to what is essentially coveting or envy, but a little bit of “If I won the lottery…” or “If I had a vacation home…” or “If I could travel to…” on occasion can be done in a healthy, harmless way. While most of us probably don’t need to be reminded to daydream or wonder about such imaginary scenarios, what we may need to be reminded of on occasion is to remember and appreciate the people and the things that we do have. But when the bulk of our time is given to thinking about what it would be like “if” we had this or what we don’t have and we give precious little time to acknowledging what we do have that can find us in a not so great place. 

Under the current circumstances, as we read reports of evacuations and shelters and lives turned upside down for people living in Ukraine, it can make us a little more appreciative than normal of what we have. It’s really hard to complain about rising gas prices when you pit that against the concern about whether or not your home or apartment building will still be standing when you come out of shelter. It seems pretty silly to be irritated by the indecision of where to go out to eat when thinking about those who are just praying for anything to eat. So it’s a good time for us to take inventory of all that we do have and be appreciative of it.

The writer of Hebrews gives us one such example of what we do have. “Therefore, since we have a great high priest who ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God…” (v.14). There is no daydreaming necessary, no need to imagine “what would it be like if…” – we have a great high priest. We’re not talking in hypotheticals here; this is the reality. This is what we have: Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is our high priest.    

And how do we know? He ascended. In addition to the disciples who were present at Jesus’ ascension, the writer to the Hebrews also shares his confidence in the Ascension. This added evidence provides even more credence to the belief that Jesus actually is the Son of God he claimed to be. And if he ascended, that would put him in position to continue carrying out the work of a high priest for us. We’ll come back to that role and responsibility of the high priest shortly, but for now simply appreciate how the reality of his Ascension validates that in Jesus Christ, we do in fact have a high priest. 

The rest of verse 14 shows us one of the reasons that matters. “Since we have a great high priest… Jesus… let us hold firmly to the faith we profess” (v.14). It encourages us to hold on to our faith. At times that is what we need most: assurance that our faith is not in vain, that we aren’t wasting our time or being played for fools with all of this Christianity stuff. That’s necessary because we have all had seasons of going through some pretty heavy stuff in life, whether self-inflicted wounds or those caused by others. It’s in the heat of those moments when our old adam seems to find fresh confidence to raise doubts and question if God is really there or if our faith in him is foolishness. Since Jesus, our high priest, really did ascend into heaven, let your faith cling even tighter to the promises of God and the words of Scripture. God never promised that our road would be without potholes, but he did promise us that staying the course in faith and navigating those potholes would find the greatest reward when we reach the destination. So stay the course and stay buckled in with that seatbelt of faith.  

One of those potholes we face on a daily basis can leave us discouraged and debilitated if we don’t know how to handle it: temptation. It may very well be the same sin over and over that calls to us, entices us, lures us. Different sins on different days may expose our weaknesses on multiple fronts. Temptation hits us differently, but what we all have in common is that it hits us. It isn’t that we don’t know any better. It isn’t that it doesn’t bother us. It’s simply that we are not as strong as we like to think we are when the devil goes to work on us. 

Remember also that his tempter’s toolbox is not limited to just trying to get us to do bad things (we call those sins of commission); he tempts us just as effectively to ignore doing the good things we’re called to do (we call those sins of omission). “I can skip out on meeting the needs of the less fortunate – someone else will take care of that.” “I can press pause on loving my enemy while I am working on loving my neighbor first.” “Seek first his kingdom and righteousness? Maybe after I’m more comfortable in my own kingdom.” Whether stumbling into what is bad or avoiding doing what is good, Satan and those on his side are constantly collaborating to tempt us from all sides.

Why? Do you ever ask why he is so desperate to tempt us and lead us into sin? After all, we know we’re forgiven, right? What does it matter if we stumble here and there in temptation if we are confident of our forgiveness? I would suggest at least two possible outcomes, either of which would delight the devil. One, we stumble into the same sin so repeatedly that it ceases to trouble us, that we become so comfortable with it, that we no longer see it as sin. Then there comes a point where we fail to see the great wall that we have constructed between God and us putting blocking ourselves off from God with that sin. We become so accustomed to that sin that we are deaf to the warnings of others who clearly see that it has blocked us off from God, no matter how much we might convince ourselves otherwise.

The second possible outcome is that we sin the same sin so repeatedly that we get to the point of failing to believe that God could still forgive it any longer. One time, sure. Two or three times, OK. We’ll even grant that God is really patient and forgiving, so he’ll cover even above and beyond two or three times. But when we hit that breaking point, whatever it may be for us individually, the same point that Judas did when he despaired of forgiveness and plunged into unbelief, then we are so racked with guilt and shame that we, too, cannot conceive of even abundant grace allowing God to forgive that sin of ours any longer. So Satan tempts us, and will continue to do so until he hits his goal of driving an eternal wedge between God and us. 

That’s why the devil doesn’t want you to know what you have. Remember what you already have: a high priest. Jesus. So why a high priest? Why not a battle-hardened general or some mighty warrior like the one the Philistines put forth in Goliath? Why not give himself to us as something along those lines?

Because a high priest is better. A hardened general can lead an army to victory with a well-thought-out strategy. A mighty warrior can drop his opponent. But we don’t just need victory. We don’t just need to take down the enemy. We need access to the Father. No battlefield success or knocked down enemy ensures that we’re any closer to being able to approach God. Only a high priest grants that kind of access.

That was the role he played in the OT. The high priest was the one to offer sacrifices on behalf of the people. The priest offered up prayers on behalf of the people. The high priest represented God before the people, illustrating that no one had direct access to a holy, righteous God without someone to go between and intervene. 

We still default to this idea today. People tend to think that a pastor or a priest is somehow further up on a higher rung of some ladder that they imagine reaching up to heaven. So they ask the clergy to say the prayer, as if God is more likely to bend his ear to the pastor or priest. They want a visit from the pastor, as if another brother or sister who cares enough to share comfort from the Word of God is not enough. The confessional booth in the Catholic Church will never be completely vacant because of the belief that the penance prescribed by the priest somehow certifies grace and forgiveness. Still today we perceive others as serving as a sort of go-between to soften up God a bit for us. 

So having Jesus as our high priest is spectacular, because it means that we will always have access to God; we don’t need another human being to serve as our go-between; in Jesus Christ, we have our go-between! We have the one who guarantees that the prayers that leave our lips hit the ears of the Father. His one-time sacrifice – himself the perfect lamb – satisfied what all the blood of bulls and goats and sheep never could. His holy precious blood was the price necessary to cover the complete cost of our sin. There is nothing left to pay. The debt of our sin has been paid in full.

While this is all true – and not at all a small thing! – this isn’t even what the writer to the Hebrews is highlighting about our high priest, Jesus, in these verses. Yes, he paid for our sin, but he did something else that blows our mind: he had no sin himself to pay for. He never sinned. His life was marked by obedience. He perfected righteousness for us. He hit the mark we all miss – an entire life of perfect bullseyes in thought, word, and deed. Someone like that must be far beyond relatable to us, right?

Wrong. He knows exactly what you’ve been through and what you’re going through. In that regard, he’s just like you. He hurt. His heart dropped in seeing the suffering of others. He experienced being physically depleted and having Satan throw his best shot at him in temptation, as we saw in the Gospel (Luke 4) today. So he’s like us. He gets us. 

There’s just one difference, and it’s a HUGE difference – just five words: “yet he did not sin” (v.15). No sin. None. Just like you… except for the sin part! “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin” (v.15)

This is why Paul could write what he did in Romans 5:19: “For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.” He didn’t sin. He was righteous. And because he is our high priest – no “if only’s” – he is our high priest, then you have all that you need to stand up in the face of temptation and crush it. 

What fear of sin remains? Do not make little of it, but there is no need to be mastered by it – your high priest paid for it and crushed sin on the cross. He crushed temptation by sending Satan packing every single time he tried to tempt him. Throw Scripture at Satan, just as your Savior did, and send him packing, just as your Savior did. You can fearlessly crush temptation as well, confident that when you fail, when you fall short, his perfect obedience has already met the standard for you.

Oh, and one more thing: your high priest allows you to level up in crushing temptation. He gives you this invitation: “Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need” (v.16). He holds out help to you. Whenever you need it. It’s yours. Just ask. Do so with the confidence that Jesus’ perfect obedience offers you. It’s been done. Now get after it and get it done yourself in the face of temptation. Crush it, as Jesus already crushed it for you.

Visibly Hidden

(Luke 9:28-36)

People hide things for two reasons. They hide something to keep it from being found. Think of pirates and plundered treasure. Such tales include buried treasure hidden on an island to keep anyone else from discovering it. There are more somber stories from the WW2 era of families hiding Jewish people or other minorities to keep them from being found by the nazis. We probably all have a spot or two in our house where we stash away valuables or other special items to keep them hidden. Some things are hidden to be kept from being found.

But people also hide things for the very specific purpose of being found. Doing so can provide someone else with the thrill of finding it. Kids still delight in playing hide and seek, both because of the challenge of finding a good hiding spot, but also the accomplishment of finding where others are hiding. Children are elated to find their hidden easter baskets or easter eggs. A hobby like geocaching is popular because of the satisfaction of finding what others have cleverly hidden. Some things are hidden for the very specific purpose of being found.

On Transfiguration, our final paradox of this series deals with something that is visibly hidden: God’s glory. But why does God hide it? Is his desire that it wouldn’t be found, or does he want it to be discovered? Perhaps confusing the matter even more, the Bible speaks of God’s glory both being evident to all, but also hidden and needing to be revealed. “The heavens proclaim his righteousness, and all peoples see his glory” (Ps. 97:6). “And the glory of the Lord will be revealed, and all people will see it together. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken” (Isaiah 40:5). “Then Jesus said, ‘Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?’” (John 11:40). So hidden or revealed – which is it?

Understand that God’s glory is multi-faceted. Glory can simply refer to the praise or acclaim that is rightly due someone for something magnificent. One can hardly live and breathe and discover all that this created world has to offer and ignore the overwhelming urge to give glory to something or someone outside of us – it is only natural (even the atheist or unbeliever does this by ascribing such glory to “nature” or “evolution”)! Yet that glory, well-deserved as it is, doesn’t scratch the surface of the full eternal plan God had in mind. There are other facets of God’s glory – the glory that emanates from his holiness, as well as a glory that can only be viewed through eyes of faith. 

The encounter with God that Moses had in our First Reading (Exodus 34:29-35) demonstrates why the glory of God’s presence must remain hidden from us – we could not handle it! His holiness would surely shatter sinners in its midst. It was a unique and special arrangement that allowed Moses to be in the presence of the Lord and live to tell about it. Not only did he live to tell about it, but he also literally reflected a glimmer of that glory as his face radiated after spending time with the Lord! 

It was the other facet of glory about which Paul wrote in our Second Reading (2 Corinthians 3:7-18) – a glory that can only be viewed through eyes of faith. Without eyes of faith, Paul likens a person’s inability to see God’s glory as having a veil covering his face. As long as that veil is there, God’s glory can’t be seen; it remains hidden. Once the Holy Spirit plants the seed of faith and allows it to sprout and flourish, however, the veil is removed and the once-hidden glory becomes visible. This allows us to see God’s glory on display in multiple ways within the Church that would otherwise appear to be anything but glorious to those with the veil still covering their eyes. 

Although the disciples were accustomed to witnessing Jesus do plenty of amazing things, they had not yet witnessed anything like what they experienced on the mountain. “As he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning. Two men, Moses and Elijah, appeared in glorious splendor, talking with Jesus” (Luke 9:29-31). That was a different side of Jesus, and to see two of the greatest Old Testament heroes, Moses and Elijah, to top it off – that was an amazing display of glory! But even then God took it up a notch: “a cloud appeared and enveloped them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. A voice came from the cloud, saying, ‘This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him’” (v.34-35). God’s own voice declaring his approval of Jesus – what a complete and total display of glory the disciples witnessed! 

And then… it was back to normal. No more bright face and blinding clothes. No more Moses or Elijah. No more Father’s voice. No more glory. And how far removed from this experience it must have felt for the disciples so soon after when they would see beatings and bloodshed and a crucifixion. Surely a far cry from the glory they witnessed on the mountain! The glory, it appeared, had gone. It was nowhere to be seen. 

It can feel like that for us today in Christ’s church. Where is that kind of mountain top, transfiguration-glory? What are we left with? We have baptism, but what, after all, is so glorious about baptism? The font isn’t fancy or ostentatious, but rather plain and simple. Infant or adult, a splash of water and a few words, and it doesn’t appear to be anything overly spectacular. Few would speak of any noticeable monumental transformation from the moment before they were baptized to the moment after, and surely a little one is clueless as to what is going on, so “glorious” might not be the description any unknowing bystander would use when witnessing a baptism.

Couldn’t the same be said of Holy Communion? A rather bland thin wafer and a thimble of common wine. There is no secret handshake or ritual required. What appears to be plain old bread and wine are simply distributed to eat and to drink. Aside from the fact that it happens inside this sanctuary, it might otherwise appear to be no different than the line that forms for snacks after church. Again, “glorious” might not be the description any unknowing bystander would use when witnessing Holy Communion. 

Then of course there is the Word. Always the Word. It permeates our worship by means of the liturgy. Not only do we have not just one, but three readings, but the Word is woven into our pattern of worship from beginning to end. If someone would expect to witness some earth-shattering impact from it, they would not likely notice it while observing our typical Lutheran worship. There are no hands swaying in the air, no emotional cries, no shaking or convulsing on the ground. Stoic, serious, or even “sleepy” might instead be words used to describe our worship before the word “glorious.” 

So is there something wrong with us? Is there something wrong with God? Are we doing it wrong? Is he hiding something from us? Yes and no. It’s there, right in plain sight, visibly hidden for all to see. God’s glory isn’t generated by emotions – whether genuine or manufactured. God’s glory isn’t conjured up by going through the right motions. God’s glory is found elsewhere, yet is wrapped up in each of these: Baptism, Holy Communion, and the Word.  

What do these all have in common? Jesus. So connect the dots with me. Jesus gives us Baptism and the Lord’s Supper. Jesus is the Word. So if we are to find God’s glory, we find it in Jesus. And what else do all of these things – we call them the means of grace, for they are the tools, the instruments by which God lavishes his grace on his Church – what else do they have in common? They are all given their power at the cross.

Take away the cross and the veil once again covers up. Take away the cross and it isn’t baptism, but merely water. Take away the cross and there is no body or blood, just the stuff of a simple meal: bread and wine. Take away the cross and the Bible is a sad story of a broken promise and nothing more. 

But with the cross comes the greatest glory, visibly hidden in plain sight. To those with the veil still covering their eyes, just another common criminal on the receiving end of justice being carried out. But to those with faith, for whom the veil has been removed, the sinless Son of God, the Savior, hanging in place of every human, bearing the brunt of every sin and the agony of abandonment as he suffered hell so not a single other soul would have to. 

But since it is hidden in plain sight, we can stare as long as we like. Even though we still sin. Even though we are so often lukewarm toward him. Even though we are indifferent to his glory. Even though we still chase after the world’s visible glory over God’s glory hidden in Jesus. We can ponder in faith the glory of the cross and stand in awe of an empty tomb without God needing to make special allowances for revealing his glory to us in that way. There is no fear of being consumed by the greatness of his glory or being struck down as a result of the immense gap that exists between his holiness and our sin. The glory of the cross is that that gap has been removed. His glory is accessible to sinners. We can stand in his presence. We can have a relationship with him, just as Moses talked with God on the mountain. We have access to him at any time, in any situation! 

As we begin the season of Lent this week, once again we will see the glory of Jesus, visibly hidden on full display. As we see him once again walk the path of suffering necessary for our salvation, remember that it wasn’t just on a mountain with Moses and Elijah where Jesus revealed his glory. It’s in your baptism. It’s in Communion. It’s in the Word, proclaimed in word and song. See Jesus regularly throughout Lent in all of these glorious ways, just as God hid it for you to see.