A King Who Comes to You

(Matthew 21:1-11)

I came into the gym searching, as Gena had already texted me the exciting news. There had been a celebrity sighting at my daughter’s high school volleyball playoff game being played in Malibu. You probably wouldn’t know his name, but it’s very likely that you’ve watched him and would recognize him from one or another of his roles in a movie or series. He was there to watch his daughter play. I ended up sitting not too far away from him, which meant I was getting a lot of looks from CLHS fans turning toward me throughout the game… so they could not so subtly catch glimpses of him right beyond me. He cheered loudly, may not have been all that thrilled that the coach didn’t play his daughter more, and we ended up winning the game and moving on to the next round of the playoffs. 

After the game, when pictures of our girls were being taken, someone made a comment about how we should ask Mr. Celebrity to take one with the team. As exciting as the win was, how amazing would it be to get a team picture with Mr. Celebrity??? You’ll never guess what happened next. We asked him if he’d take a picture with the girls and get this: he did! Can you believe it? He actually appeared to be a normal human being and willingly came over for a few pictures with the girls. 

Why do we get so excited about such things? Typically we don’t expect celebrities, athletes, or dignitaries to interact with the rest of us. After all, they’re in a league of their own. They’re a big deal. They live in big houses, drive really nice cars, make lots of money, and rub elbows with others in the same social circles. We generally try to respect their privacy by not hovering or smothering and giving them their space. That’s why we tend to get such a big kick out of the times they do interact with us, even coming over to a very small crowd of parents and high school volleyball players for a picture. 

Even more amazing? The almighty Creator of the universe willfully, knowingly, intentionally, coming to us, to mankind.  

The description of Jesus entering Jerusalem on Palm Sunday might appear to be out of place for this time of the church year, but it actually fits beautifully as Matthew connects the dots of the prophet Zechariah for us, describing what kind of a King we have: “This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet: “Say to Daughter Zion, ‘See, your king comes to you, gentle and riding on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’” (v.4-5). A week ago we highlighted that Jesus was unlike earthly kings and authorities in that he did not establish his kingdom for himself, but rather that he came for others. As we begin our new Advent series, we rejoice in another way that Christ is unlike earthly kings: he comes to us.

That just doesn’t happen. Remember the remarkable story of Esther? She had a unique opportunity to intervene on behalf of the Jewish people and do whatever she could to save them from being wiped out by an edict authorized by the king. The only problem? She hadn’t been summoned by the king for several weeks, which could have implied that she wasn’t in all that great of standing with him. To approach the king, then, without having been summoned, was to risk death. Here is the exchange between Esther and her cousin, Mordecai, the one who had informed her of the plot to destroy the Jews:

“‘All the king’s officials and the people of the royal provinces know that for any man or woman who approaches the king in the inner court without being summoned the king has but one law: that they be put to death unless the king extends the gold scepter to them and spares their lives. But thirty days have passed since I was called to go to the king.’ When Esther’s words were reported to Mordecai, he sent back this answer: ‘Do not think that because you are in the king’s house you alone of all the Jews will escape. For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?’ Then Esther sent this reply to Mordecai: ‘Go, gather together all the Jews who are in Susa, and fast for me. Do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my attendants will fast as you do. When this is done, I will go to the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish’” (Esther 4:11-16). 

I won’t spoil the ending if you aren’t familiar with it – you definitely need to read the rest of the account of Esther to see how everything played out if you don’t know. The only detail I’ll share is this: Esther wasn’t put to death by the king. He allowed her to come into his presence for an audience with the king. 

But even that is a different thing than what we see in Matthew 21. We don’t see Jesus situated authoritatively on his throne, determining who will and who will not be granted the request to have an audience with him. No – we see the King coming to his people. We see the dignitary, not full of himself, but full of grace, grace that compelled him not only to ride humbly into Jerusalem, not only to humbly be betrayed and taken captive, not only to be beaten and berated in humility but in the ultimate act of humility, to be killed by crucifixion. 

Why would a king – this King – subject himself to all of that? What did he have to gain? What benefit was it to him? He did not need to do it to expand his kingdom – it was already all his! He did not need to do it to prove himself – God does not need man’s approval to be validated. No, this King who comes for others comes to you.

During this season of Advent, that is what we celebrate – the Lord Jesus comes to us. And your King still comes to you. He continues to. Isn’t that also what makes interactions with celebrities or dignitaries stand out – they are so rare? I don’t anticipate ever interacting with Mr. Celebrity again. That was most likely a one-and-done occurrence, as are the majority of such memorable occasions. Many of us have similar stories of that one time we met so-and-so, and that is just it, it’s a part of the allure – it was that one time.

But not so with our King. Yes, he came into our world in a human body one time to dwell among mankind for three decades, but even in that way, he will come again on the last day when he returns visibly for all to see. In the meantime he still comes to us in body and blood, giving himself to us in such a way as to both remind us of the price our King paid to win the battle over Satan while also continuing to extend the ongoing blessing of forgiveness won through that battle for us. In continuing to offer himself to us in this way, it is as if the King was opening up his treasure room to us whenever we need it to provide us with the riches of his grace and forgiveness. 

Are you spiritually depleted? Sit at the King’s table, where he comes to you to fill you up again with the food of forgiveness. Are you frustrated by a lack of progress or growth in your Christian living? Sit at the King’s table, where he comes to you to give you the grace needed to grow. Are you discouraged by all successes Satan seems to be having in your life lately? Sit at the King’s table, where he comes to you to remind you of who already won the war. Are guilt and shame doing their best to push you away from the King by convincing you you’re not good enough to be in his presence? Sit at the King’s table, where he comes to you and sets the table with his body and blood for just such guests as you! 

Do you happen to have any other needs that have not been addressed? If so, your King also comes to you through his Word to remind you of the blessings that come from his convincing victory over Satan and his current ruling over all things for your benefit. He rules to oversee not only your present problems but also your future uncertainties. With him on the throne, what business do worry or anxiety have in his kingdom? With him on the throne, what can legitimately rob us of peace? With him on the throne, where else are we going to turn for the level of joy that he is able to provide? With him on the throne, having called us into his kingdom, what greater meaning and purpose can we serve than to extend all of these same blessings to other souls as we do the work he’s given us to bring other souls into his kingdom? He has the answer for every need you can imagine, and your King comes to you as frequently as you will summon him through his Word! 

My experience with Mr. Celebrity was fun, but honestly, a few years from now I will not be surprised to find myself trying to recall which celebrity it was that we got to meet that one time. And other than being a novel experience, we didn’t really gain any benefit from meeting him other than a few pictures. 

How different it is with Christ our King, our Savior-King who still comes to us! Not only during Advent, but always, until he comes to us that one last time to gather the people of his kingdom to be with him forever.

A King for Others

(Luke 23:25-43)

How did the midterm elections turn out for you? Did the best people get elected? Does the right party control the Senate? the House? How will the outcome affect inflation? Will student loans have to be paid back? Where do things stand with abortion? marriage? What progress have we made in addressing homelessness? What are the implications that this election cycle has on preparing for the next presidential election? There is no small amount of pressure on the government to get it all right these days! 

If we could just figure that out, wouldn’t our country be so much better off? If we could manage to get the right people in office maybe, just maybe, we could get our country back on track, pull together, and reflect once again that we are not the Divided States of America, but the United States of America. Is it that hard to figure out? Is the answer a third viable political party? Is the solution dissolving our current political party system and coming up with something new? Maybe we should consider a monarchy and establish a king or queen. 

Before you laugh it off, ask yourself what you’re really wanting our government to be. Are we perhaps guilty of looking to earthly rulers for solutions that they can never provide? Have we gotten so accustomed to “having it our way” as a nation for so long that we have lost sight of the reality that it was never a particular political party or a perfect President who had all the answers? Whatever “better days” you remember from your past were never the result of this policy or that legislation. No disrespect whatsoever to any who serve us in our government (after all, they deserve our honor, respect, and certainly need our prayers!), but they have far less influence and impact on this country than another group: the citizens of our country. 

If, as Abraham Lincoln put forth in his Gettysburg Address, we are a “government of the people, by the people, for the people,” then is the government really to blame for whatever problems we’re facing right now? Conversely, is it fair to pin all our hopes on the government, when by design, the government is to be a reflection of the people of the country? So if the government isn’t the problem, but simply a reflection of a much more influential group – the people – then how do we address that?

We start by staying in our lane as the church. We start by disentangling ourselves from politics and stop thinking foolish thoughts that confuse the role of the government with the role of the gospel. While we have a responsibility to each as Christian citizens of this nation, we are the only ones entrusted with the gospel. So which should receive greater attention? Is it not the gospel? If the government is merely a reflection of the people and we don’t like what we see, then let’s use the tool that God has given us to change things for the better: let’s let the gospel change hearts and lives and see what happens!

What is that gospel? With some of the last words he spoke before he died, Jesus uttered the gospel beautifully to the criminal crucified beside him: “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise” (v.43). How could Jesus promise such a thing, especially to such a criminal? Remember that crucifixion was much more than just a slap on the wrist, so we can presume this wasn’t your garden variety shoplifter or jaywalker next to Jesus. He had committed something serious, a crime that merited both public shame and severe pain!

Still, Jesus promised him paradise. How? Not because of who the criminal was, but because of who the Christ is – King. The King makes the final decision on who is a part of his kingdom. He is the final authority. And he’s also the King who was at that very moment making the sacrifice necessary to open his kingdom to all, including the thief right next to him. 

That is what is unique about King Jesus. Unlike earthly kings, unlike worldly leaders, he didn’t come for himself. Look at how the jeers of those around him even expected him to act that way! “The people stood watching, and the rulers even sneered at him. They said, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is God’s Messiah, the Chosen One.” The soldiers also came up and mocked him. They offered him wine vinegar and said, “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself.” There was a written notice above him, which read: THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS. One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” (v.35-39). 

Everyone ridiculing him presumed that if he was truly the king he claimed to be, then he would have no problem proving it. And the foregone conclusion was that he’d prove it by saving himself. That’s what anyone in his position would do. But they had not connected the dots to realize that essential truth about Jesus: he didn’t come for himself. He came for others. 

Saving others – not self – is why he was there. An earthly king looks out for himself (CEOs and severance packages, royalty who live in luxury), but who takes that wealth and privilege and uses it to bless others first? Rarely, if ever, does that happen. Jesus didn’t oblige the requests or silence the sneering to save himself because he didn’t come for himself. He came for others.

Somehow, at some point, the Holy Spirit enlightened the thief to see and believe that. And so he made his final request of the King: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” (v. 42). He pleaded for mercy from his King. What a contrast we see in the thief! Others railed on Jesus and made fun of him, but instead of mockery, the thief asked for mercy. 

Mercy does two things: it acknowledges that it deserves nothing, but it also knows where to look for mercy to be extended. The thief knew both.

He didn’t appeal to Jesus to look at the impressive track record of his life. He had already chastised the other thief for ridiculing innocent Jesus, knowing full well that he himself and the other criminal were getting the punishment their crimes deserved “We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve” (v. 41).

He asked simply to be remembered, knowing that Jesus choosing to remember him was his only hope to enter into a better kingdom, an eternal one. We don’t need to know how the thief came to this conclusion; just that he did is what matters. He knew who Jesus was – the King of a kingdom far superior to any on earth that had ever existed. Through faith in King Jesus, he knew to be true what Jesus had explained to Pontius Pilate, that his kingdom was not of this world. 

We also know what the thief did – that the only way to belong to that kingdom is through mercy. By nature, everyone is on the outside looking in when it comes to this kingdom, and as glorious as it appears, there is no way we can enter it on our own. That’s because we excluded ourselves from it. The reason Christ’s kingdom is so gloriously appealing is that it is so unlike everything we see in this world, and the reason it is so unlike everything we see in this world is because it is holy. There is no sin to ruin it.

That is precisely why we know something else the thief did – that Christ’s kingdom is not of this world. How could it be??? If his is a kingdom without sin, then surely no such kingdom could exist in a fallen world overcome by sin.

What Jesus informed Pontius Pilate of is too easily forgotten by us – his kingdom is not of this world (Jn. 18:36). If we’re looking for a heaven on earth, we won’t find it. If we’re expecting Christianity to fix politics and poverty or injustice and inequality, don’t hold your breath. Christ didn’t have his sights set on so small a thing! He was more interested in addressing the root cause than he was in trying to treat the symptoms of it. 

That is exactly what he was doing in the verses from Luke this morning: addressing the root cause of all that is wrong with every earthly kingdom. He was fixing what was broken – sinners. He did what no group of protestors, activists, cause, or movement could ever accomplish by paying the ultimate price necessary to forgive sinners. His bloodshed was the only solution for sinners that could bring about real change. It was the victory he had to win to establish his kingdom and to welcome into it the sinners he had transformed into saints. 

Do you really want to make a difference? I mean, really? If you’re serious about it, then focus on a cause that is guaranteed to yield results. Less politics, more prayer. Fewer debates, more devotions. Less worry, more worship. Less scrolling, more sacrament. Less isolation, more invitations. Fewer excuses, more evangelism. Less social justice, more Jesus. 

No, we don’t have to stop doing all of those things entirely – some of them can be ways we love and serve our fellow man. But let’s keep them in their proper place and realize their impact will be limited. They will never be able to bring about the real change that only Christ the King has.

His kingdom alone changes hearts, and changed hearts will change the community. Changed communities will change the world. So let us not only pray for Christ’s kingdom to come, as we do in the Lord’s Prayer, but let us also enable it to as we do what the people of his kingdom do and saturate a wayward world with the good gospel. 

When we faithfully focus on that, we’ll be celebrating a different election. Not an election that secured the necessary number of votes for the right party to fix everything, but an election to eternal life that will be served out in a kingdom unlike any other. It will be a kingdom ruled by Christ the King, truly a King for you and a King for others. 

Make Up Your Mind

(Luke 21:5-19)

“Begin with the end in mind.” It’s one of Stephen Covey’s 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. The idea behind the approach is to consider the outcome you desire before jumping headfirst into something. A person wanting to remodel or put on an addition to a home doesn’t just start the demolition and then decide what to do after that. Plans and blueprints of the finished project are drawn up and plotted first. And, although it might be slightly altered at some point, writers and producers have a general idea of the conclusion and storyline before they start the book or movie. Taking the time to think through the desired outcome ensures that the time spent getting there will be much more efficient and effective. It also greatly increases the likelihood of achieving that desired outcome.

“Begin with the end in mind.” It would also seem a prudent approach when it comes to the most important matter of our spiritual lives and eternity, would it not? Have we done that or do we regularly do that? “It’s not necessary,” one might reason, “because we already know what the end is: heaven. And, we already know how we get there: Jesus. What else is there to consider?”

Well apparently, the Bible seems to indicate there is plenty to consider in the meantime, not the least of which is how we plan to stay the course and not allow the devil’s daily ambush efforts to succeed against us. Perhaps there is a reason we see Jesus continually teaching the importance of staying connected to him. Maybe there is something to Paul’s (the writer of much of the New Testament in the Bible) repeated warnings not to forsake or abandon the good news of the gospel. After all, many of the people to whom Jesus spoke and Paul wrote were believers who knew that Jesus was the way to heaven. Nevertheless, the same warnings and encouragement are given to them. We might do well to take them to heart, too.

Jesus’ words from Luke 21 help us begin with the end in mind. He tells us what to look for.

Remember how people used to provide directions before we all just started plugging the address into our phones and obediently following wherever the voice tells us to turn? Those giving directions would tell the what to look for. “Turn this way and after about a half-mile you’ll see a grocery store. Turn right there and then go until you come to a steep hill. Turn left and keep going until you see that big barn and that’s where you want to go.” Describing what to look for lets a person prepare for what to do next.

Jesus described what to look for in Luke 21: deceivers, wars, natural disasters, terrifying events, persecution, betrayal, and even death. When you see those things, prepare what to do next, because the end is near. Spoiler alert: the end is near. What do we do next?  

Just as important as beginning with the end in mind is this: the need to make up your mind. 

The mind is so very powerful. I may sound like I am overstating it, but it’s only because we too often undervalue it. Our minds are in fact one of God’s most tremendous gifts to our physical lives. Our minds set us apart from all other living creatures. We can reason and rationalize and consider and create and imagine with our minds like no other living being created by God can.

But one of the most powerful things we can do with our minds is decide. Make a decision. I am not talking about making a decision for Christ, which is utterly impossible for anyone to make, given we all come into this world spiritually stillborn, blind in unbelief, and hatefully hostile to God. No, I am speaking about the general ability that we have to make decisions… or not make them. 

Far too many of us linger in that paralyzingly debilitating space of indecision. Out of fear of making the wrong decision, we put off making any decision at all, prolonging the crippling, costly price of indecision that leaves us hyperventilating with anxiety, worry, and stress. 

We don’t realize how much better off we are when we finally decide – even if it is the wrong decision! Yes, even making the wrong decision leaves us better off than living in the valley of indecision with our anxiety elevated to ridiculously unhealthy high levels. Even when we make the “wrong” decision, 9 times out of 10 we can correct or overcome it afterward.

Make a note right now to set aside 15 minutes today just to think back about times you made what you’d call in hindsight the “wrong” decision. While those times understandably may have resulted in a few headaches, by and large, was the wrong decision the end of the world, or did you just adjust accordingly and fix it? I think we know the answer. So knowing that we can right the ship even when we make a wrong decision, let’s work at not allowing ourselves to get stuck in the unhealthy rut of indecision.

Especially in one area. Jesus himself realized the value of making a decision – especially when it comes to the most important matter of all: being ready for the Last Day. Having described some of the details of what God’s people can expect as that day draws near, Jesus directed his disciples to make a decision. “But make up your mind not to worry beforehand how you will defend yourselves” (v.14). Make up your mind. Decide.

Decide not to worry. Yes, there is a place for applying that advice in general – and many in society would be far better off for it.

But Jesus is speaking more specifically in this context. He is encouraging us not to worry about what to say when we come under fire for our faith. It’s relatively easy for us to share a spiritual social media post or make our faith known as we broadcast it via bumper sticker. We display a cross hanging around our neck or on a shirt.

But when it comes to talking about Jesus, we clam up like a kid who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Why is it so unnatural for us to casually, comfortably, talk about Jesus with others (without being abrasive or overly aggressive)? We’re worried… but about what? Make a note to yourself to set aside another 15 minutes later today just to think about what worry keeps you from talking about Jesus with others more naturally.

Then, take that worry captive to the words of Jesus this morning. Here’s why we can make up our minds not to worry: Jesus promises, “For I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to resist or contradict” (v.15). How refreshing is that?! In these last days, as if we don’t already have so much that weighs heavily on our hearts and minds, Jesus assures us that one area we don’t need to stress out about is what to say when it comes to talking about our faith or defending ourselves. He’ll give us the words, and not just any words, but the Word. And when we speak his words – the Word – no one will be able to resist or contradict his words. 

No one will be able to resist or contradict his words because they are true. Jesus prayed elsewhere to his Father and ours, “Sanctify them by the truth, your word is truth” (John 17:17). Others may disagree with it. They may deny it. They may ridicule it.

But let me ask you, do any of those responses in any way at all negate the truth of God’s Word? Is it any less true because others reject it? Absolutely not, and don’t forget, if it’s true – and it absolutely is! – then it is also the truth by which others are going to come to faith as they see us defend our own. So we have nothing to lose and everything to gain as we make up our minds not to worry because we can have 100% confidence that the Lord will give us his words of wisdom that are absolutely true.

You know the power of his Word. You’re likely reading this right now because you know it. You know its truth. It is spot-on when it calls out our sin and reveals that sin to be the source of the rift between God and us. When the Word points out the painstaking reality that we cannot repair that rift in any way no matter how hard we try, we know it is speaking the truth. When the Word says judgment and condemnation are what we deserve, our sin convicts us to know that is the truth.

But grace has also opened our eyes to the greatest truth of all. Jesus promised, “Not a hair of your head will perish” (v.18). No, he wasn’t speaking physically, since right before these words he had just prepared his disciples for the reality that some believers would die, they would be put to death for their faith. Rather, here he is comforting his disciples and us with the rock-solid truth that we have nothing to fear about our eternal future. The spiritual judgment our sin deserves has already been declared and carried out – not against us, but against Jesus. 

Let that sink in. Jesus is speaking these words. Jesus is making the promise that we have nothing to fear spiritually, despite the awful worldly things happening physically all around us. Jesus makes that guarantee because Jesus was the one to deliver and make good on it. He would be the one to bear the brunt of the Father’s judgment and condemnation. He would be the one to be cut off and damned. He would be the one from whom the Father would turn his face.

So then it is true that he will never turn his face from us. No matter how bad things get in these end times. No matter how much the details Jesus shared become increasingly intense during these last days, we can stay the course. Jesus said, “Stand firm, and you will win life” (v.19). How can we be sure we’ll win life? Because Jesus lost his. For us.

So don’t be afraid. The judgment we deserved has already been declared and carried out against Jesus. Therefore, make up your mind not to worry. 

Truth That Truly Frees

(John 8:31-36)

The trial is winding down. Closing arguments are being made. Shortly, the jury will reveal its judgment on the man accused of murder. The family of the victim has of course expressed its hope that justice is carried out and that the truth prevails. 

A husband has his suspicions. His wife has been working at the office much later into the evening in recent weeks. On more than one occasion he has entered the room to find her texting, followed by a rather frazzled explanation of who it was on the other end. They haven’t spent any meaningful time together for several months. He’s worried that she’s cheating on him and he’s ready to confront her because he has to know the truth. 

Suppose the truth is discovered in each of the above scenarios. The man accused of murder is found guilty. The wife suspected of being unfaithful was in fact having an affair. The truth prevailed. But where does knowing that truth leave the family of the victim? What has changed for the husband whose suspicions have been confirmed with the truth of an affair? Yes, there is certainly something to be said for the truth being brought to light. There is peace of mind that results when a suspicion or a gut feeling is finally confirmed and uncertainty is erased. 

Sadly though, the truth won’t bring the victim alive and back to the family. The truth of the affair won’t restore the trust that was broken in the marriage commitment. I point this out to underscore how out-of-place it is when we see the words of Jesus from John 8 snatched out of context and lazily applied to the general pursuit of truth in any imaginable situation. When Jesus’ words, “Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (v. 32), are invoked in the noble name of truth alone, with all due respect, no, that truth may not set a person free. In both of the previous scenarios, the truth came out, but ask the ones left picking up the pieces if they’d use the word “free” to describe how they’re feeling. I doubt it. When this Bible verse is often quoted in similar settings, it misses the mark. No, not just any old truth will set a person free. 

But there is a truth that does. And 500 years ago, a German monk discovered that truth. These words of Jesus had a profound impact on him. That impact not only changed the trajectory of his own life, but also the direction of the church of his day that had lost its way. Martin Luther’s discovery of the truth of Scripture that freed him from the prison of his own unrighteousness drove him to hammer his 95 Theses to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany on October 31, 1517. The truth that he discovered freed him to boldly stand up to church and state authorities to debate and defend it. To appreciate the courage that took, let history display the embers and ashes of those who went before him, burned at the stake for having had the audacity to question church authority. What truth would be worth that sort of a risk?

That truth is beautifully summarized by Jesus himself so simply in verse 36: “So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” Jesus’ words are so straightforward and succinct so as not to be confused or mistaken. If a police officer lets you go with just a warning, then you are free and under no obligation to pay a ticket. If your server knowingly throws in a menu item free of charge, then you are under no obligation to pay for it. If Jesus frees you, then you are free. There are no strings attached, no future favors expected in return, and no disclaimers or fine print hiding some loophole. If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.

Who is in need of that kind of freedom? Those listening to Jesus didn’t think they were. Notice how his listeners bristled at the notion that they would need any kind of freedom. “They answered him, ‘We are Abraham’s descendants and have never been slaves of anyone. How can you say that we shall be set free?’” (v. 33). The Jewish people listening to Jesus were hearing him offer something that they didn’t think they needed and hadn’t ever needed. They were very well aware of their status as God’s special, chosen people.

Jesus explained it for them. “Jesus replied, ‘Very truly I tell you, everyone who sins is a slave to sin’” (v.34). Their minds were set on physical slavery. But Jesus did not come to promise freedom from any physical chains or earthly master. Rather, Jesus was speaking of spiritual slavery to sin. 

Kind of a harsh way to describe our relationship with sin, isn’t it? Is Jesus possibly overstating things just a bit – using hyperbole, as he often does – an extreme statement to make his point? 

No, and it’s just as true today as it was in Jesus’ day. If you sin, you are a slave to sin. That, after all, is how sin plays the game. It refuses to be the servant and insists on being the slave master. Sin does not invite us to try it out for a time and then respectfully understand when we decide we’d like to be done with it and move on. No, sin is like an invasive plant. When it is permitted to grow without removal or restraint, it refuses to give up any ground gained until it takes over everything. 

And your own experience has taught you this! Sin stakes its claim in our hearts and once it does, does not willingly or easily give up ground. In fact, it demands more of us. It wants to expand its rule in our hearts. A chip on our shoulder expands into full-fledged bitterness. A quick glance here and a brief look of lust there explode into raging addiction. A polite discussion in person or online becomes a heated argument bent on being right and pride puffs up to pummel the other person and put them down. A few dollars now and again that we’ll surely pay back becomes significantly more until the concern of paying it back is replaced by the concern of covering our tracks.

Sin does not play the role of servant! It demands to be in charge. Jesus’ words are true; everyone who sins is a slave to sin. If that were not the case, we would stop today. Right now. But we cannot. Because we are helpless. We are enslaved.

In Luther’s day, those who turned to the church looking for freedom from that slavery to sin were offered a variety of solutions… which would cost them a pretty penny. One could pay handsomely for a slip of paper called an indulgence, which declared forgiveness for its bearer. There were holy relics and sacred sites, which could be viewed and visited… for a price or donation. Of course, these options appeared all the more appealing against the message of hell and torment and eternal punishment that echoed from preachers and pulpits! 

Today we are thankful for those who stood their ground before us, contending for the truth of the gospel and capturing the essential truths of Scripture articulated in our Lutheran Confessions. Thankfully, we who by nature are slaves to sin know exactly where to turn for freedom. It is not to a corrupt church. It is not to an unholy pope. It is not to our own bank account as if we can buy or purchase it. Freedom from slavery to sin was, is, and only always will be granted only through Jesus Christ.

Now please do not make the mistake so many in our day are making and presume that means you don’t need the body of Jesus Christ, that is, his church, made up of all believers. To think that, to detach oneself from the body of believers is to slowly sever oneself from Jesus Christ himself. Do not buy Satan’s lie that freedom is somehow found outside the church and away from the gathering of the saints around the Word of God and Sacraments. That would be a grave mistake.

A passenger of a ship in the middle of the ocean recalled a bird aboard the ship escaping from its cage. The bird left the ship behind and flew off to embrace its newfound freedom by exploring the unlimited reaches of life not confined to a small cage on a ship at sea. Hours later, however, the passenger made a peculiar discovery: the bird had returned. Having become exhausted in flight and unable to find food or land in the middle of the ocean, he returned to the ship and place of his former cage. What had been previously perceived as a prison suddenly offered more than he realized, and what he had previously presumed would offer freedom was not at all the true freedom he expected.

So it is with those who celebrate that they have “escaped” from some perceived prison of the local church or organized religion. The thought goes that freedom is not being constricted by or confined to some set of dogma or doctrine. To throw off those shackles, whether they were imposed at an early age by parents or some previously misguided pursuit of spiritual enlightenment – that is real freedom, or so many think.

One of the popular phrases that captures this version of woke Christianity is “deconstructed faith.” It’s really nothing new, but the same old buffet-style false religion with a false god by which an individual determines what to pick and choose in search of “true freedom.”

But Jesus’ words this morning don’t permit that. How exactly did Jesus stress that a person can know the truth and the freedom that comes through it? “Jesus said, ‘If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free’” (v. 32-32). Whose teaching? Not mine. Not yours. Not whatever else anyone else may construct or deconstruct, but Jesus said “my” teaching. His. Sure, you and anyone else are free to pursue your own teaching, but you won’t find freedom there. Nor will you find it anywhere else. Only the Son sets free, and only in the Son is truth that truly frees.

Where do we find that Jesus? Where his believers gather around Word and Sacrament. Where Jesus’ words of the freedom of forgiveness are pronounced each and every Sunday in the Absolution. Where grace trumps guilt. Where justification (the term that describes God’s declaration that in Jesus, we are “not guilty”) wins over judgment. That is where Jesus longs to be found, known, and believed.

Where Jesus is, dear friends, we find the truth, and where we find the truth, we find freedom. “So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (v.36). 

Asking – and Answering – the Question That Matters Most

(Luke 18:18-30)

A great question can have a huge impact in a variety of settings. One of the qualities of exceptional leaders is that they ask great questions. In being coached and in coaching other pastors, the value of great questions that force hearers to reflect deeply or differently cannot be overstated. In the classroom, students learn well when teachers ask great questions and teachers can better tune in to the learning needs of students when students ask great questions, too. 

In Luke 18, Jesus was faced with a great question. In fact, Jesus was asked the greatest question anyone can ask: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” (v.18). There is no question more important than this one. It both acknowledges an afterlife and also seeks out assurance for what happens to us after we die. This question assumes there is more than just this life and the one asking it wants to be confident of his place in the life to come. 

As great a question as this most important question is, it’s also terribly frustrating that precious few people are asking it today. Why is that? If it is the most important question- and it is – why aren’t more people asking it? It would be lovely to conclude that more people aren’t wrestling with it because they are already confident of the answer.

But sadly, a much more likely reason is that they are simply indifferent to the answer. They don’t care. Perhaps some have thought about what happens when they die and may or may not have their own answers, but so many are perfectly content not giving this most important question the time of day. Chalk it up to the same level of indifference our culture has with so many other important matters. Meanwhile, we wouldn’t dare miss out on the “important” stuff like a scathing sports tweet, the latest celebrity hook-ups or break-ups, or some political rant.

But, rather than lament why so many in our society are content to stick their head in the sand rather than wrestle with this question, let’s focus on you. Are you asking the question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” More importantly, are you confident in your answer? As our faith increases, so does our confidence in the answer to that question. 

Speaking of confidence, the man who approached Jesus in this chapter of Luke didn’t seem to lack it. Yet, while he certainly seemed to have confidence in his own standing, there’s no reason to presume he was being disingenuous or that he had some agenda in asking the question. He was asking the right question, the question that matters most. And he wanted to be sure of the answer.

Jesus’ initial response isn’t what we might expect. One might suppose that Jesus could have answered the ruler’s question very simply: “Believe that I am the promised Savior and eternal life is yours.” That would have made for a short and sweet encounter and the man may very well have gone on his way.

But the man would have gone on his way with a jaded idea of what was required for heaven. As we see his dialogue with Jesus play out, the man had a misplaced confidence in his own efforts. And as far as salvation is concerned, when man’s efforts – whether they be great or small – are combined with God’s grace, the result is hell. There is no room in the salvation equation for works plus anything else. So Jesus didn’t give him the good news of the gospel, for it would have done more harm than good. The man first needed to see how much he needed Jesus.

That may also have something to do with why Jesus initially keyed in on the term “good.” Jesus wasn’t trying to avoid the man’s question. In fact, he was likely prompting him to think very carefully about what significance he was attaching to the term “good” in addressing Jesus that way. However, regardless of what the man’s intent was in using that description, look at Jesus’ response: only God is good. 

That should have made something clear to the man asking what he must do to get to heaven (in other words, “How good do I have to be?”): no one is good enough. But he missed the point, as made clear by his response to Jesus bringing up the commandments: “All these I have kept since I was a boy” (v.21). While the overconfidence oozing from the man’s reply is obvious to us, based on his upbringing and understanding of the law, he probably legitimately figured he was measuring up to God’s expectations for him.

There’s a part of us that is right there with him. “You know the commandments: ‘You shall not commit adultery, you shall not murder, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, honor your father and mother.’” (v. 20). We’ve mostly kept those commandments, on the big stage, at least. Sure, a few small things here and there, but all-in-all, when we think of how others demolish these laws with their sins, we’ve only “bumped into” them a bit. No affairs. No murders. No breaking and entering or grand larceny. No lying under oath. No dishonoring our parents in a way that tarnishes the family name. See, it’s not so hard for our thinking to line up quite well with the self-righteous ruler, is it? 

So Jesus does him a favor and makes a more pointed application of the law. Jesus pointed out that he was still lacking something: he needed to sell his stuff.

To understand how Jesus was helping the man diagnose his sin, consider a visit to the doctor to treat an ankle injury. Suppose you injured your ankle and wanted to see if it was broken. How helpful would it be for the doctor to ask you to move your elbows or your knees to see if something was amiss? How helpful would it be for him to apply a little bit of pressure to different spots on your forearm, asking each time if that hurt at all? In order for him to be able to help you, he’d have to be treating the right part of your body. 

Jesus did just that by applying pressure to the ruler’s spiritual sore spot: his wealth. And Jesus’ effort hit the mark. “[Jesus] said to him, ‘You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.’ When he heard this, he became very sad, because he was very wealthy” (v.22-23). The man’s reaction demonstrated that the law accomplished its purpose. It exposed his sin. It showed where the man’s heart truly was. It didn’t belong to God. It belonged to his stuff, and his sorrow showed it.

Had the man measured up to the kind of goodness required for heaven, his response would have been delight. “Is that it? What a great opportunity it will be for me to richly bless the less fortunate, for I have far more than I need. I will gladly give away every penny of my wealth so that it can serve those in need.” For an example of this, see Zacchaeus’ response to Jesus and the good news. The gospel prompted Zacchaeus’ generosity. But in this case, the law had a completely different effect on the ruler. It prompted his despair.

The man seemed like a prime candidate for heaven, based on his own confidence in having kept the law, but now Jesus was saying it was easier for a camel to thread the eye of a needle than for a guy like this to get into heaven. Understandably, that shocked those listening. “Those who heard this asked, ‘Who then can be saved?’” (v.26). Jesus’ hearers must have concluded that if it’s impossible for a pretty upright fellow like that to get into heaven on his own, then what chance of eternal life does anyone else have?

And that is exactly where God wants everyone to be at some point in his life. Hopeless. Helpless. Having the realization that nothing we could ever hope to do and nothing we could ever hope to be is enough to assure us of eternal life. On our own, we are… on our own. The awareness of our inability to be good enough, to try hard enough, to be enough leaves us absolutely and completely desperate. 

To those who have been there, who have experienced that, the words of Jesus that come next are life and deliverance. They are hope. They are just what despairing hearts and ears long to hear: “Jesus replied, ‘What is impossible with man is possible with God’” (v. 27). What is impossible with man? The ability to save himself. What is possible with God? Salvation. 

And it isn’t just possible. It isn’t just plausible. God actually did it! God did what the rich ruler couldn’t. He did what we couldn’t. He got the job done – completed it 100%.

How refreshing in a half-done and undone society like ours! We hire a contractor for this or that project, and only 90% of the job is done, yet he claims he’s finished. The coworker or classmate submits their portion of the work or assignment that is “mostly” done, leaving you to finish it up. Into a “partially-done-is-good-enough” world, God came in the flesh and completed 100% of what was necessary for our salvation, from start to finish. 

Unlike the rich ruler, Jesus didn’t have to fudge the law’s standards just to pretend he had kept most of the commandments, but he kept every one. Unlike our best efforts at trying to make up for wrongs, which could not even on our best day come close to paying for even the smallest sin, Jesus paid for every sin with his very life. And the impossible continued when he defied death and rose to life again, making the impossible possible and guaranteeing our resurrection, too. What is impossible with man is possible with God. Indeed, it has been accomplished in full by God. 

So we have the answer to the question we must ask, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Not a thing. Jesus did the impossible. Jesus did it all. Believe it. 

Work with What You’ve Got

(Luke 17:1-10)

How would you know? Our series theme is “Lord, Increase Our Faith.” It’s a nice enough-sounding theme. It sounds churchy, like the kind of thing we should be asking for. It has a nice enough graphic to accompany it and a quality bumper video to promote it. But how would you know if it actually happened? At the end of this month, or several months from now, or several years from now, how would you know if a person’s faith has increased? More to the point, how would you know if your faith increased? 

A person will be different. What do we really mean when we say that? We mean they act differently. They don’t do the same things or say the same things they used to say. They are different. Isn’t that how we’d tell if someone’s faith increased?

After all, we don’t have a meter that indicates our faith level. Unlike your phone or another screen that has a little battery icon indicating how much power you have left, your faith has no such indicator. Although, that would be pretty slick if we just had an app or widget on our watch or phone that showed where our faith levels were registering. But we don’t. So how do we know? We see it when behavior changes, when we act differently than we used to, when we don’t do the same things we used to do. 

Realize that that is going to cause a little bit of tension in this series. God’s Word stresses over and over that we are not saved by what we do, by our obedience or righteousness, or by our good works. Yet it’s actually what we do, our obedience and righteousness, and our good works that are all metrics by which we gauge faith! So our works don’t save us – faith alone does – but if we want to see growth in faith, it will show itself through the works that we do. And as far as works go, Jesus directs his disciples to work on three of the more challenging things Christians are called to do.

First, while he acknowledges that in a fallen world, there will be circumstances that cause people to sin, he tells his disciples – he tells us – don’t you be the person who causes others to sin. “Things that cause people to sin are bound to come, but woe to that person through whom they come. It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin. So watch yourselves” (v.1-3a). Better to die by drowning than to cause someone else to sin? Apparently, Jesus thinks sin – and leading others into sin – is a huge deal! 

But we don’t always see it that way, do we? In fact, we become quite good at dismissing our own sin, and downplaying the impact it may have on others. What’s more, whether directly or indirectly, we can even end up encouraging others with certain sinful behaviors. When the line between an occasional drink and drunkenness becomes so blurred for us that we nonchalantly invite others to join us in that sin, Jesus offers us the option of a millstone instead. When we steal from subscription services by sharing passwords with others and nudging them to do the same, Jesus holds out a millstone to us. When we are raving about violence, gore, or sex on the screen and promoting it to others as something “they have to see,” there is Jesus again with his millstone. If Jesus sees sin as such a serious threat, our eyes of faith should see it that way, too.

And when we see sin as the serious threat that it is, the second challenge Jesus issues to us makes even more sense. “If your brother sins, rebuke him…” (v.3b). If sin is serious – and there’s nothing more serious! – then pointing it out and rebuking it is a life and death matter. So not only do we have to watch out that we don’t cause others to sin, but we also have a responsibility to call out sin and rebuke it. 

What makes this so difficult? There are two dangers we want to avoid: relishing the rebuke or refusing to rebuke. We relish the rebuke when we designate ourselves spiritual sleuths, sniffing out every possible sin we can in others, not because we care for their souls and spiritual health, but because we delight in sounding the alarm on their sin. If we enjoy pointing out the sins of others, that’s a pretty strong indicator that we’ve got as much to be concerned about in our own hearts as we do anyone else.

The second danger to avoid is refusing to rebuke. This can happen for any number of reasons. We are overly concerned about coming across as judgmental or hypocritical, so we remain silent. Or, we are concerned that doing so will sour the relationship we have with the other person if we rebuke sin (ignoring the fact that it is actually sin – not the rebuke of it – which damages relationships in the first place!). In either case, failing to lovingly rebuke a brother or sister in Christ is really prioritizing our own reputation over someone else’s salvation.

Jesus has called us to do two challenging things: not causing others to sin and then rebuking the sin we see in others. But wait – there’s more! 

The third challenging action Jesus calls us to take is supremely difficult. “If [your brother] repents, forgive him. If he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times comes back to you and says, ‘I repent,’ forgive him” (v.3c-4). Did you see how many conditions Jesus attached to his charge to forgive? Count them all up and let me know how many you get. If your total is zero, you counted correctly. There are none. No conditions. When someone sins against you and apologizes for it, you have one response: forgive them. That means the number of times they sin and repent should end up equal to the number of times you forgive them.

These three responsibilities we have as Christians are hard things! So the disciples’ response comes as no surprise at all. “The apostles said to the Lord, ‘Increase our faith!’” (v.5). That’s a completely understandable response from someone who realizes how tall the task is. It’s a natural request for any Christian who is well aware of the difficulty level of the three things Jesus just urged them to do. It shows something pretty remarkable about those listening to Jesus: they knew their faith had room to grow and they knew Jesus was the one to grant that growth.

The apostles’ response would be an appropriate response for us, too, wouldn’t it? “Lord, what you ask of me is no small thing, and I don’t have it in my to carry it out, so give me what I need to follow through!” But that isn’t always our first response. Maybe sometimes it is. But other times we simply dismiss what Jesus asks of us, if we’re honest. It’s hard, we don’t like hard things or struggling to change into what God calls us to be, so we just don’t do it.

That describes a pretty good chunk of Christians, doesn’t it? They are today right where they were a year ago, three years ago, ten years ago, and frankly, they aren’t that interested at all in the hard work of growing in their faith. But if we have one takeaway from this series, maybe it could be this: healthy things grow, and if we aren’t growing in our faith, what does that say about how healthy we really are?

We might have expected Jesus to respond by leveling up the faith of the apostles right then and there. But instead, Jesus’ response at first appears a bit cryptic. “He replied, ‘If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, “‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’” and it will obey you” (v.6). He doesn’t say, “OK, I’ll do it.” Instead, he brings up a mustard seed and replanting a mulberry tree in the sea.

Wait, what? The disciples just asked for an increase in faith and Jesus responds by talking about a tiny, itty-bitty faith as small as a mustard seed. And who uproots a mulberry tree to send it into the sea? What gives? What is Jesus saying to us as we consider his statement?

Think about it like this. I don’t mind the dad role of getting to play clean-up when kids don’t finish their food. All in all, it’s really a pretty good gig. However, what I don’t have much patience for is whining about getting more when you haven’t finished what you started with. After all, that’s often how the leftovers end up left over anyway. They don’t only happen when a child doesn’t like the food, but also when a child likes it so much that they’re sure they want more piled onto their plate. Then they end up with a full stomach and a good portion of food left on their plate. They request more before they’ve even finished what they had.

That’s the issue Jesus is addressing regarding our faith: why ask for more faith if we haven’t fully tapped into what we’ve already been given? Jesus’ point is that we stop focusing on asking for more faith until we start focusing on putting the faith we already have to work. The issue isn’t that you need more faith, but rather that you aren’t tapping into what even the slightest amount of faith can do.

This all should actually make perfect sense to us, too, shouldn’t it? Good theology emphasizes that it isn’t how much faith a person has that saves her, but rather the object of that faith. So big faith or small, when Jesus Christ is the object of that faith, it’s a saving faith!

That’s why your faith is capable of so much – not because your faith is so great, but because Jesus is! Jesus already secured our salvation. Jesus already fills us with forgiveness. Jesus already perfected the three earlier challenges he tasked us with. Jesus already lived and died and rose. Jesus already did everything. 

And Jesus still does everything. It’s still Jesus who does through you whatever you have in mind to do. It’s still Jesus – the object of your faith and the fuel for your faith – who can do magnificent miracles with even a minute, mustard-size faith. 

Think of how complex your phone is. Most of us use it for a handful of things, but it is capable of doing far more than most of us will ever use it for! That’s OK for your phone, but does that sound OK for your faith? Your faith – as it is right now – is capable of far more than you are using it for. Yes, it locks in heaven for you, but it can also move mountains in the meantime until you get there!

So let that be the first thing in this series. Whatever you have in mind to do, whatever you’re waiting for a greater faith to accomplish, whatever you think requires a significant spike in some non-existent faith meter before you can proceed… get to it. Do it. Today. Tomorrow. The next day. Don’t wait for your faith to increase. Put the faith you have right now to work right now. Watch God increase your faith as your faith-filled efforts continue to be fueled by your faithful Savior and his almighty Word.

What “Matters” in This Life Doesn’t in the Next

(Hebrews 13:1-6)

Those first two words right at the beginning of our reading from Hebrews are tough! “Keep on…” I don’t know about you, but it feels as if one of the lingering symptoms of the pandemic is the simple struggle to just “keep on.” While churches have certainly been hit by that reality, I don’t think the struggle to “keep on” is by any means limited to just matters of faith and religion. It spills over into all areas of life. 

It’s hard to “keep on” at work, where pandemic policies have bounced all over the place like a ping-pong ball. Companies are still trying to balance in-person vs. remote work schedules. Co-workers have quit or been let go, and often times those remaining have been expected to pick up the slack and do more without any additional help or any bump in compensation.

Students find it a challenge to “keep on” as classrooms have become classrooms again instead of zooms and sports and extracurriculars have been restored and student interaction and peer pressures all add up.

Even socializing is hard to “keep on,” as we realize that, like it or not, we had gotten used to an unprecedented level of isolation in our lives. Now our social lives are a tug-of-war between being able to socialize while also maybe yearning just a little bit for the days when we had the easy out of not having to make that decision because we just had to stay at home. 

And we haven’t even gotten to the part after the “keep on” yet, which is where it gets really fun! Look what follows: “keep on… loving one another as brothers and sisters” (v.1). It’s hard enough just to keep on, and now it’s gotten exponentially more difficult if the thing we’re called to “keep on” is loving one another!

As if the writer to the Hebrews anticipated this challenge for us, he spelled out a couple of concrete ways we can love others. Show hospitality to strangers. Remember those who are in prison. Honor husbands, wives, and single people by the way we respect his gifts of marriage and sex. 

These encouragements would have been uniquely challenging at the time this letter was originally written. When the church was under heavy persecution, there would have understandably been a reluctance to show hospitality to strangers, for fear that any stranger you could entertain may very well have been someone looking to turn you in for your Christian faith. Remembering those who were imprisoned simply for being Christians would have clearly associated you with Christianity, so why risk it? In other words, for Christians, back then their reasonable fear of being hospitable or caring for the imprisoned was based on a legitimate concern. If keeping on loving one another in the ways the writer describes wasn’t being done, at least they had an excuse.

But today, at least here in America, Christians aren’t under anywhere near that same type of persecution. We have no reason to worry about being turned in for showing hospitably to a stranger. So why don’t we? There’s no reason we can’t be more compassionate to those in prison. So why aren’t we? There’s no reason we can’t show higher regard than our culture does for God’s gifts of marriage and sex. So why don’t we?

I’m well aware you’ve got more than enough ammunition in your mind to offer in defense of why we aren’t doing these things more often – because I do, too. Our sinful nature specializes in doing that. But if you were to offer up those defenses to God as excuses for not keeping on loving others in the ways described, do you suppose he’d buy any of them? Not likely. So let’s just be honest about our selfishness, our inclination to love ourselves more than we love others, confess it to God, and start working on it. 

Because the writer isn’t done yet. There’s still a significant “danger” sign we have to watch out for. As difficult as it is to keep on loving one another, there’s more. The writer hits on what is often a touchy topic that we might be inclined to think has the ability to solve all of our problems. Or, at least it can provide us with a little distraction from them. 

What would make us forget about things for a little while? How about a little bit of money? Wouldn’t that do the trick? Doesn’t that always do the trick? Does a little bit more of that ever hurt? 

Unfortunately, the writer to the Hebrews brings up money, not as a solution or a possible escape, but rather as something that has the potential to cause even more problems. So just as important as that we DO keep on loving one another is the warning that we DO NOT love money. “Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have” (v.5). Earlier this week I came across the story of a man whose downfall validated the concern of loving money too much

One thing I can appreciate about Hansie Cronje, the man from that story? His honesty. Most of us are so good at disguising our love of money that we even fool ourselves! I hit on this in my last post by emphasizing that it’s often what we associate with money that we love, so we don’t even realize the problem, whether it’s security, status, or stuff, to name a few. We think that money is the means to those and so much more. And indeed it can certainly appear that way… for this life. 

But what “matters” in this life doesn’t in the next. You’ve probably seen the images of a hearse loaded down with stuff piled on top of it while also pulling a Uhaul behind it. The reason it’s humorous of course is that it won’t ever happen. We don’t take anything we’ve accumulated in this life with us to the next. In fact, the one sure thing that you can count on is that everything you have to your name right now will someday belong to someone else.

What a sobering reminder that is to us that it was actually never ours in the first place, but rather the gracious God who entrusted it to us for a time to manage. Not only that, but no amount of money can ever buy the stuff that matters. Peace. Forgiveness. Unconditional love. Eternal life. 

Do you know why these can’t be bought? Because they’ve already been purchased. They’re already paid for. What matters for the next life, which then by extension also matters greatly for this life, has already been bought and freely doled out through faith in Jesus Christ. We cannot buy it because God insists on giving it out freely through Jesus Christ. Faith in Jesus means that his selflessly obedient life and innocent death have been traded in for my selfishness and misplaced focus on so many things in this life that simply don’t matter. 

Along with that faith comes a powerful set of promises that the writer to the Hebrews tapped into at the end of verse 5 and in verse 6: “‘Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.’  So we say with confidence, ‘The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?’”

There is something that matters, both for this life and the next! A blood-backed promise from the One who gave himself for us. He promises that no fear of abandonment, desertion, or loneliness ever needs to fill the hearts of those who are his. He promises that whatever help we need, he is by our side to offer. 

These promises provide us with a real freedom, for they mean that we don’t have to look to something like money to provide us with the security we already have in Jesus. When I know that, verse five starts to make more sense. I don’t need money to provide what Jesus already does, and so contentment becomes a very real thing. And along with the blessing of contentment comes a healthy and fulfilling relationship with money. It no longer manages us, always deceiving us with the bottomless lie that just a little bit more would make everything better. Instead, we manage it, and start to see the amazing impact God can make in other people’s lives with it. 

Contentment allows us to start to see God’s gift of money as a resource that enables us to excel at focusing on what the first four verses called us to do: keep on loving one another. What would it look like to have a line item in your personal budget set aside for those things? “We have this much set aside for hospitality, for opening up our home to others for dinner or game night a couple of times this month.” “We have this much set aside to support a jail ministry or simply be a blessing to the needy this month.” “We have this much set aside to prioritize a weekend marriage retreat or to sponsor a young couple who would be blessed by the opportunity to give attention to strengthening their marriage.”

See the good God can do through us! His generous promises to us in Christ Jesus, promises that have already been bought and paid for by him, free us in a way that no amount of money ever could. Then we can find real fulfillment in life, not in the burden of keeping on loving others, but in the joy of it. 

Serve God WITH Money, But Not God AND Money

(Ecclesiastes 5:10-20)

The ability to multitask is no longer regarded as highly as it once was. For a time, it was viewed as an essential key to productivity and getting things done. It was thought that being able to focus on multiple things at once would mean everything on the to-do list could be achieved in less time. While in some situations that may have been – and may still be – true, it turns out those things were not being done as well as when we simply focus on one thing at a time.

Have you ever been trying to email or text someone while at the same time holding a conversation with someone else, and you end up writing in your message the totally unrelated words that just came out of your mouth in conversation? Dads are notorious for being poor multitaskers. I remember getting a T-shirt as a new dad that showed a dad changing a diaper while his head was turned toward the TV to tune into the game. On the changing table was not the baby, but the family dog whose diaper he was changing. Meanwhile, the baby was on the floor eating out of the dog food bowl. The shirt wasn’t that far off!

Today’s hard truth takes our inability to multitask well a step further and calls it impossible in one specific area: focusing on both God and money. And the hard truth is not simply that it’s difficult to do both, but that it’s impossible! We cannot serve both God and money. But… we can serve God with money.

Pay attention to who is the author of Ecclesiastes. Not only is the author one of the wisest men to have ever lived, but he was also one of the wealthiest. It would be quite easy to dismiss these words of caution if they came from someone who never had any serious income to manage or someone who was a bankrupt fool, for what would he know? Let’s learn instead from Solomon, from someone who had a little wisdom… and see that even wisdom doesn’t inherently protect one against the allure and temptation of money and wealth.

Solomon warns us, “Whoever loves money never has enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with their income. This too is meaningless” (v.10). Solomon isn’t blasting money here. Money is not the bad guy. Rather, loving money is the issue. Allowing our hearts to become attached to it is the problem. Paul echoed Solomon’s warning in his letter to Timothy when he wrote, “For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil” (1 Tim. 6:10). Money isn’t evil; it isn’t even the root of evil, but rather the love of money is. 

There’s a reason we are so easily deceived by money. We can easily convince ourselves that we don’t love money per se, while all along truly loving what money represents to us: security, status, and stuff. In our own minds, each of those things is different from money, but in reality, they are directly tied to money. When we say we worry about finances, what we are often expressing is that we lack the feeling of security, of knowing that we are financially secure.

When we strive for status, what we mean is that we have arrived at the ability to buy things and pay for experiences and give our children opportunities that money allows. We say we don’t love money, but we love what money buys us: more stuff that we didn’t even know we needed until we saw someone else with it.

No, a person isn’t going to walk into our homes to find us bowing down to a pile of cash and credit cards. Rather, it is all of the opportunities that pile of cash offers us that we often worship. But you can’t have one without the other. To have all of those things – security, status, or stuff – we need money.

Or do we? Actually, if God’s promises are true, then hasn’t he already assured me that I have all of those things in Jesus? Jesus reminds us that if God takes care of the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees, he’ll also take care of us. That’s real security. God tells us we are his chosen people, treasured, dearly loved, set apart, and so on and so forth. That’s real status that matters. God tells us that we’ve got more than enough stored up in heaven, where moth and rust cannot touch it. That’s real stuff that matters. Money and wealth can’t promise those things, but only the illusion of them. What God promises and provides is real. Tangible. Trustworthy. What God promises is real treasure.  

Look again at Solomon’s words and you’ll notice the way these verses break down. Verses 10-17 are generally negative. However, lest we become embittered toward the wealthy or write off the rich as all having empty, meaningless lives, let’s remember that these words of Ecclesiastes, like many of Solomon’s Proverbs, are not unyielding principles that are 100% the case 100% of the time. No, these are general truths, which means that of course there are always exceptions.

So don’t be surprised when the multi-millionaire you feel sorry for over how miserable and meaningless his life must be, drives away excitedly to his beach house in his Bentley. We should not assume that Solomon’s words here are a blanket statement that every rich person is actually internally distressed and downcast. That would be silly!

Rather, Solomon is warning against the danger of what Augustine called a disordered love. That is to say, the issue isn’t necessarily loving the wrong things, but loving the right things in the wrong order. When we love possessions more than the Provider, we become enslaved to them and driven to seek in them fulfillment and satisfaction that only the Father can provide.

What does that kind of satisfaction look like? Verses 18-20, which carry a much more positive tone, show us. But look closer and see what else is different. Where is God in the first section? Not even mentioned. Where is God in the second? He is the Giver. Let that connection sink in for you, as understanding it is essential to a right relationship not only with money and wealth, but also with everything we can own or experience. Love possessions more than the Provider and we lose out on a right relationship with both the goods and with God. But love the Provider of the possessions and we get a right relationship with both God and the goods. Which would you prefer?

Solomon highlights this truth by reminding us that God is not only the giver of every gift, but also the One who gives the gift of being able to enjoy those gifts! Consider this in light of what the world emphasizes. What makes news are box office-breaking revenues for money, celebrities making huge sums of money per movie, or athletes signing the highest-paid contracts. But why are we so enamored with the amount? Wouldn’t it be much more telling if we could somehow gauge the level of enjoyment that wealth represents? Couldn’t an athlete live as much a satisfied and joy-filled life making half-a-million a year as making $40 million a year? Does more money correlate with more joy or can the two be completely unrelated? 

That seems to be the point Solomon is making. He has seen miserable, malcontent millionaires and he’s seen paupers at peace. What accounts for the difference? “Moreover, when God gives someone wealth and possessions, and the ability to enjoy them, to accept their lot and be happy in their toil—this is a gift of God” (v.19). God gives the gifts… and even the gift of being able to enjoy the gifts. 

Isn’t this true in the grandest sense as well? We could list God’s gifts all day and all week long, but there is one that surpasses them all: the gift of his Son. This is the highest gift. There is no contract or business deal that can have enough dollar signs or zeroes attached to it that can ever surpass this gift.

Do we treasure this gift enough? Do we treasure Jesus daily and realize what we have in him? Do I find joy in the gift of his perfect life in my place? Do I find joy in the payment his death provided for my sins? Do I find joy in my victory through his resurrection? This is the greatest gift we have – and likely also the most under-appreciated. When it comes to the dangers of our love of money, Solomon can diagnose the problem, but he can’t deliver us from it. Only Jesus can do that. Only Jesus has done that. 

The theme of Ecclesiastes is “Meaningless.” The question we have is, how do we ensure our lives are meaningful and not meaningless? We can’t serve God and money, but we can serve God with money. 

A peasant farmer had worked hard for his crop, and in his hand, he held what he had just rigorously yanked out of the earth: the most beautiful carrot he had ever grown. It was the perfect carrot, and he knew immediately what he was going to do with it. He was going to give it to the king. As he marveled at the carrot he held in his hand, he was overwhelmed with gratitude, knowing that, were it not for his king, he would never have been able to grow a thing.

The king provided him with the equipment he needed to plant his field, he made sure that his family was provided for so that he could focus on farming, and he knew that under the king’s protection, he didn’t have to worry about his home or field being overtaken by an enemy. So he paid a visit to the king and gave him the prized carrot as an expression of his thanks. Touched by his gift, the king granted him several additional fields to grow even more produce.  

The news had spread around the kingdom, prompting a stable owner to consider following in the farmer’s footsteps and giving the king one of his prized stallions he had bred. The stable owner thought to himself, “If the king granted the farmer additional fields to grow more crops, perhaps he will also give me additional stables so that I can breed even more horses.”

So he set out to do just that and brought one of his horses as a gift for the king. The king accepted the gift and expressed his thanks to the stable owner for it and then dismissed him. Somewhat surprised, the stable owner appealed to the news of the king’s previous generosity to the farmer in granting him additional fields to farm and wondered if he might expect something similar. To that, the king replied, “The farmer brought me his gift and gave it to me as an expression of appreciation and love for me. You, on the other hand, brought your gift out of love for yourself.”

Christ has freed us from an unhealthy relationship with money. With a love for us that surpasses our love for money, he has forgiven our greed and satisfies us with his grace in a way that wealth never will. The evidence of that is seen in the change of perspective we have about money. The joy that we used to find in making and spending money, we now find in serving Christ’s kingdom with it. We see dollar signs as seeds that can help spread the gospel, counsel the spiritually struggling, help train up children, and serve those in need. It is an endless list of joys that spring from managing God’s money for God’s purposes. As God’s grace changes our view of, and relationship with, money, he will bless our efforts at growing in the grace of giving and serving not God and money, but serving God with money. 

The Found are Left; the Lost are Found

(Luke 15:1-10)

They gathered around Jesus for two very different reasons. One group came to Jesus to hear him; the other came to hate on him. And when you consider which groups it is, it should be rather surprising. We would expect the “tax collectors and sinners” to be the ones hating and the “Pharisees and the teachers of the law” to be hearing. If Jesus’ message was all fire and brimstone and a call to shape up our lives, the first crowd would rightly resent Jesus and his message. After all, they weren’t naive to the fact that they were the black sheep of society. 

And the Pharisees, the ones who delight in doing right – and getting noticed for it – should have clamored to hear Jesus’ message if it was all fire and brimstone and a call to shape up our lives. That would have been right up their alley! It would have reinforced their self-righteousness and puffed up their pride.

But it’s exactly the opposite. Luke describes it for us. “Now the tax collectors and sinners were all gathering around to hear Jesus. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them” (v.1-2). The black sheep want to hear Jesus and the self-righteous religious want to hate on him! You know what that says about Jesus? His message stood out. There was something different about it. His message must have been radical if it appealed to those it should have turned off while turning off those to whom it should have appealed. And that is exactly what his message does today. Today’s teaching is a hard truth because it forces us to face that The Found are Left while The Lost are Found

If the typical Christian congregation did an assessment of which category of folks received more attention – the found or the lost – which group do you suppose would come out ahead? It’s no contest. It isn’t even close. But I don’t raise that point to shame or indicate that it’s wrong to give attention to each other or to care for our brothers and sisters in Christ. It isn’t! Not at all. In fact, it’s one of the “selling points” of trying to bring others into the family of Christianity – we care for and about each other. 

But there is a need for balance in the mission Jesus has given us. Because he hasn’t only called us to care for each other, the found. He has also called us to seek the lost. If, rather than trying to pit one against the other, we instead strive to see the importance of and need for each, then we are ready and willing for Jesus to draw our attention to finding the lost. What does Jesus wish to teach us about his feelings toward the lost? His mission is personal and persistent. 

The personal concern of Jesus in going after the lost is clear in each parable. After losing one sheep, the owner of the hundred sheep doesn’t conclude, “One sheep is no big deal – I’ve still got 99, after all.” The woman doesn’t blow off her one lost coin just because she still has the nine others.

God does not write off countless lost souls just because there are many who are saved. Neither does he attach different values to different people like we so often do, based on different criteria, deeming some more worthy of saving than others. Every soul matters to Jesus. Every soul. 

It’s like the little boy walking along the sandy beach after a storm. The beach was blanketed by starfish as far as the eye could see that had washed up after the storm. He knew that if they had any chance of surviving, they would somehow have to get back into the water, so the boy started picking the starfish up. One by one, he slung them back into the safety of the ocean. An onlooker commented that the boy’s efforts would hardly make a difference, as there were far too many starfish on the beach. After bending over to pick up one more and flinging it into the ocean, the boy responded, “It just made a difference for that one.”

So personally does Jesus care about every lost soul that he will go after each and every last one!

And he’ll do it with persistence. Jesus presumes the woman will look tirelessly for the lost coin. “Doesn’t she light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it?” (v.8). Neither did the owners just take a quick peek here or there and then call it a day! The same phrase is used of both the lost sheep and the coin: the owner searches “until s/he finds it.” (v.4,8). There was no room for half-hearted effort in either case; the search would persist until the sheep and the coin was found. 

Now we can talk about Jesus’ mission being personal and persistent, but you know what that must mean, don’t you? Consider how Jesus carries out his mission of seeking the lost. He does it through you and me. He does it through believers – his church.

So Jesus doesn’t have one approach he takes on his mission while his church takes some different approach. If his mission is personal and persistent, then so is the church’s mission. So is ours. So is yours. And if your mission isn’t personal or persistent… whose mission in life are you really more interested in carrying out – Jesus’, or your own?

When Jesus’ mission is our mission, we also want to ask who are those represented by the lost sheep and the lost coin. Often this chapter of Luke 15 is limited to the areas of outreach and evangelism. While that is natural, we don’t want to limit it to that. The lost sheep and the lost coin, after all, were at one time numbered among the found. So there is also a call here to seek out those who once belonged to the found, but are either wandering toward lostness or lost already.

It’s a call to repentance. It’s a call to care about those who used to be actively among us. It’s a call to care about our friends, our spouses, our sons, and daughters, who at one time fed in the pasture of God’s Word and sacrament right alongside us, but who now are nowhere to be found. While those who have only known unbelief their whole lives are always on our radar, also on our radar should be those who previously were won to faith, but have since wandered. How do we do that?

The first step: identify them. Stop pretending they aren’t lost. Stop lying to yourself that, even though they haven’t been hearing the Good Shepherd’s voice, perhaps in years, they are still interested in following him. Stop pretending that having no involvement or engagement with their congregation and no spiritual shepherding from their elder or pastor is permissible. Also… stop pretending that they should know better and it is 100% their responsibility for being rescued again.  Instead, let’s acknowledge they’re lost and put together a search party. And let’s do it with the kind of personal and persistent passion Jesus emphasized in these parables.

Suppose a large building in your community became engulfed in flame. How would you feel about a group of firefighters who decided to ignore the alarm sounding and instead hung around the fire station snacking and glued to their screens rather than throwing on their gear and high-tailing it out of the station?

Would their actions make more sense though, if they explained to you that the building on fire was one that just earlier that week they had made a presentation on fire safety and prevention, so they weren’t worried about it? Of course not! You’d expect them to go rescue anyone in the burning building no matter how much fire safety and prevention training the occupants had had!

In the same way, who are we to sit back and leave the lost on their own because they went to our school, finished the membership class, or were previously active in the congregation? Absurd! Let’s get out there and rescue them, whether they’re merely backsliding into the darkness or were always lost in it – Jesus wants both kinds. Jesus wants them all.

And so do we. Because we rejoice daily that he has rescued us, too. We gather regularly to sing and speak words of rejoicing over knowing that he has found us and rescued us. We rejoice in the confidence of knowing that every confessed sin has already been canceled. We rejoice in knowing that every Christian soul who has departed the pasture of this world for the pasture of heaven is with Jesus, the Good Shepherd. We rejoice with the angels in heaven each and every time even just one soul is turned around in repentance and rescued for eternity. We celebrate… and then we round up the search party again and get back out to work.

The Humble Will Be Exalted; The Exalted Will Be Humbled

(Luke 14:1, 7-14)

She knows he’s the one. Handsome, witty, intelligent – he had all the characteristics she wanted in a guy. There was just one problem: he doesn’t know she exists. You know how the rest of the plot line plays out. She enlists the help of her friend or group of girlfriends to hatch an elaborate plan to get the attention of her crush. The audience of course knows that it will end up in some embarrassingly funny scenario in which she does in fact win the desired attention, but for all the wrong reasons. She usually ends up mortified and from that point on has to work even harder to overcome that negative experience. All she wanted was to get noticed by her crush.

From childhood on up well into adulthood, that about sums it up, doesn’t it – we’re all trying to get noticed. The attention-craving toddler finds just about any reason to perform even the most menial task as if it were some monumental feat, directing mom or dad to “Look at me!” From adolescence into the teenage years, sports or studies become more than just a rite of passage, but a possible pathway to getting noticed by a coach or college. Then the next stage kicks in as we learn to navigate the ins and outs of creating an online presence through social media and other platforms to get noticed. It continues as we throw ourselves into our work and up our efforts in the dating scene. We simply want to get noticed.

The Pharisees at Jesus’ dinner party could relate. They wanted to get noticed. Jesus observed that as they arrived and readied themselves for the meal they “picked the places of honor at the table” (v.7). Depending on how many guests there were and how the tables they reclined at were arranged, the places of honor at such a dinner party would have been slightly different. Rest assured though, anyone prestigious enough to have been invited to the party of a “prominent Pharisee” knew full well where the good spots were. They knew that such spots not only communicated the political pecking order to the other guests at the party, but that the places of honor also afforded extra opportunity to rub elbows with the host and impress him with their views and ideas. 

It’s what the Pharisees were known for: being known. In that respect, they were not unlike modern-day influencers who are only popular because they’re known, and they’re only known for being popular – not because of some meaningful contribution to society. In the same way, the Pharisees wanted to get noticed.

They got what they wanted: Jesus noticed them. But beware! When Jesus uses you for a spiritual illustration to serve as a spiritual warning, that’s probably not the way a person wants to get noticed! 

We want to make sure we do not miss the point here. Realize what is happening. Jesus isn’t merely addressing a social custom of the day as a means to simply reform our behavior. We cannot, as so many do with Christianity, demean Jesus by equating him with the headmaster at some finishing school, as if his greatest concern is that his followers learn proper etiquette and behave in a civilized manner in social settings. 

On this occasion, Jesus’ primary goal was not to teach the Pharisees that they should be more humble. How can we be sure? Because even as we work toward being more humble in this life, and even as God blesses us with progress in this life, will our eternal outcome be any more secure if you are a much more humble person five years from now? 

No, absolutely not – being more humble won’t have any bearing whatsoever on your eternity! The very fact that we know there is room for us to be more humble already shows that we’ve missed the perfect mark required for heaven! So Jesus is focused on much more than just squeezing more humility out of us for our time here on earth.

Jesus’ concern – even when he personally met and addressed physical needs – was always primarily spiritual. He was concerned with the Kingdom of God, not the kingdoms of this world. He is concerned about our beliefs – not just our behavior. 

That is shown by his use of this opportunity to speak a parable, which you may remember has a very specific purpose – a spiritual one, not a social one. He uses this worldly, temporal occasion as an example to spring into a heavenly, eternal truth. “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this person your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place. But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” (v. 8-11). 

The setting is slightly different in Jesus’ parable – not just a dinner party, but a wedding banquet. Jesus used a wedding banquet quite regularly in his teaching to depict heaven. So no, Jesus isn’t just using another social setting to teach the Pharisees how better to behave next time, but is making it clear in his parable that he is talking about our place in heaven. Anyone convinced that his ticket to heaven is punched on the basis of his own worth or merit will find himself humbled. No one gets into heaven by being religious enough, righteous enough, or respected enough. 

This hard truth may sound very similar to the previous one, and there is indeed a very close relationship between the first and last and the humbled and exalted. It might help to point out a slight distinction in emphasis. The emphasis then was that Jesus is the only way into heaven; the emphasis here is that we aren’t. In this parable, Jesus is saying to you and to me and to a world focused on getting noticed, that we better be aware that in heaven, there are no seats reserved for those who think they’re deserved.

If Jesus is hitting on such a key spiritual truth here, then why, after his parable concludes, does he emphasize the importance of exercising humility here on earth by turning to the party host and encouraging him, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous” (v. 12-14). Why does Jesus again shift from the spiritual, eternal truth, back to the physical, practical application? Because what we believe and how we live are very closely connected to each other. 

The way we treat other people is a reflection of three things: our view of God, our view of self, and our view of others. When I am finding myself concerned with getting noticed, with others taking note of me, isn’t that a reflection of a pretty high view of self, that there is something in me that surely others don’t want to miss? And if I am seeking to direct their attention to me instead of whatever they think is important, what am I saying about their views or opinions – and by extension, them? Obviously, we don’t think very highly of them if we think they should be more focused on us! And what of God? Well, sure, the Bible can talk about God’s undeserved, unconditional, forgiving grace and love for me, but honestly, how much do we truly value that right here and now if we’re looking for something more elsewhere?

How I live and what I believe are far more closely related than we think. And the more I seek to exalt myself during my time here on earth before others and even dismiss God’s opinion of me as not all that important, do I really think that when I am faced with the reality of heaven, I’ll just be able to flip on the humble switch and set aside this yearning to get noticed that I have fed and fueled my whole life? See how dangerous it is?!?

So Jesus says to put into practice now what we truly know and believe about heaven: we’re undeserving. That frees us up to serve others – no matter their status – before ourselves. And even though Jesus promised blessing when we do that, when we remember “the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind,” that blessing isn’t guaranteed this side of heaven, but is promised to be repaid on the other side of it, after we are all resurrected in Christ. 

You want to get noticed? You already are. You already are noticed – and have been – by the One whose opinion of you matters the most. What the Lord said to the prophet Jeremiah when he called him can be applied to each of us as well: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart” (1:5). He chose us, not because of who we were, but because of who he was and is, and because of what he wanted to make us: his. You are noticed, you are treasured in a way and to a degree that can never be matched by a crush, a parent, a boss, or anyone else. When you remember that, guess where that leaves you? In a place we call humility. Better yet, guess where that leaves you with Jesus? Exalted.