Don’t Lose Sight of the Source of your Strength

(Judges 13-16)

Like me, I doubt many of you can remember what it was like to not be able to walk or ride a bike. When we grow or learn a new skill, it’s easy for us to forget what it was like before we knew how to carry it out. We can also then forget or overlook those who helped us learn or acquire that skill or ability.

As we wrap up our series on Samson, that’s one of the things we want to take into consideration. But we want to remember not just those in general who have helped us get to where we are today, but that ultimately it is always the Lord who provides us with what is needed to accomplish or achieve anything through us (and oftentimes in spite of us!).

We see that in Samson. But as we close out our series on Judges, let’s take moment to recap the takeaways from each of the judges God raised up. Amidst the recurring pattern of Israel spiraling into wickedness and being handed over to her enemies as a result, the cry to the Lord for deliverance – no matter how disingenuous or short-lived it was each time – was answered by God in unique ways. Through Deborah and Barak, God reminded us that his promises don’t need to be propped up – they stand on their own because he has made them. Through Gideon the Lord showed that he can do a lot with a little. In the shameful example of Abimelech we saw what happened when God was not a part of the plan. Using Jephthah, God led us to reflect on the ultimate turnaround story, that he can bring rescue through a reject. Where does Samson fit in with all of this? He reminds us not to lose sight of the source of our strength. 

It’s really phenomenal when you think about it – how easily we swing from insecurity to overconfidence. Gideon displayed it. Remember how many times timid and insecure Gideon asked for a sign from the Lord to reassure him? Then, when all was said and done, insecure Gideon became too-secure-in-self Gideon and allowed an idol to become a snare. He wrestled with insecurity, but after the Lord worked out a divinely decisive victory against the Midianites, Gideon suddenly found himself looking in the mirror instead of to the Lord. 

We’ve been there. It starts out as a source of insecurity or weakness. Then, as we give attention to it, as we work on it, as we develop it or overcome it, it actually becomes a strength. At one point the sheer thought of speaking in front of even a few people was mortifying, but you’d never know it when you listen to the polished public speaker give a TED talk. The athlete who couldn’t even make the cut for the high school team ends up as one of the most successful to ever compete in the sport. He was a college dropout who went on to start up his own company and earn millions. We’ve heard all kinds of such stories – they are a dime a dozen. And if even on some smaller scale, we’ve likely experienced something similar that resulted in success later on.

The problem, though, is that in the midst of all of our hard work and our commitment and our success, we quickly gloss over the fact that it was God who granted it all, that He was and is the source of our strength and that only with his blessing could we have achieved any of it! It’s not unlike the mom or dad hiking up a mountain trail with their small child strapped in on their back. They make it up to the top, where the child excitedly announces, “I did it!” Mom or dad did all of the work, but you wouldn’t know it by listening to the child’s self-proclaimed achievement. 

The apostle Paul points out the absurdity of such a claim when he asks the rhetorical question in 1 Corinthians 4, verse 7, “What do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as though you did not?” All that we are, all that we have, all that we achieve, is from God! Yet, like the little child carried to the top of the mountain, we are so quick to celebrate what “we” just did!

And it isn’t just a matter of spiritual amnesia, of forgetting to give glory to God by acknowledging him and thanking him for our growth, but it also leads us to look differently at others whose present situation might be exactly where our past situation was. How quickly we forget that we were once there and how impatient we become when they don’t exhibit the same strength that we now have! We don’t say it out loud, but we think to ourselves, “Well, it’s been a while since I’ve seen them at church, and it’s not because I’m the one who hasn’t been here every Sunday…” We might even express shock or surprise that someone else struggles with a particular sin that hasn’t troubled us for some time. We feel pretty good about our marriage as we look at others struggling to keep it together, forgetting that we’ve had more than our share of challenges, too. A weakness turns to a strength, and we arrogantly credit ourselves with the turnaround, rather than remembering that God is the one who worked it. We flex our own muscle instead of pointing to our Savior’s strength. 

Samson had gotten used to it. The Lord had endowed him with the strength of a superhero, and he had gotten used to it. It was his identity. He was the strong man, feared by the Philistines. So easily had he forgotten the source of his strength – the Lord. And so easily did he stumble when faced with his weakness: women. Twice, a combination of his attraction to the opposite sex and his self-confidence instead of his God-confidence resulted in Samson letting his guard down. The first time it led him to leak the answer to a riddle that eventually found its way to his enemies. The second time was a much costlier mistake – resulting in his hair being cut and being taken captive and having his eyes gouged out by his enemies. Had Samson more readily remembered the Lord and not been so quick to rest on his own laurels, perhaps he would have been more guarded in each case and not ended up being taken advantage of. 

But here’s the remarkable thing about God – he used Samson anyway! In both instances, it was the Philistines who ended up on the receiving end of the Lord’s wrath through Samson. At this point in the book of Judges, it shouldn’t surprise us at all that God still manages to carry out his work of deliverance through flawed individuals – it’s what we’ve seen again and again from him. So then, even when the individual fails to give glory to God, or at least is slow to do so, God doesn’t necessarily give him the pink slip and call on his HR team to hire someone else more worthy. God even uses those who forget to give him the credit to accomplish what he desires.

He still does today. God has used and will continue to use the secular world to serve his sanctified purposes. While the secular world won’t acknowledge God’s strength, that doesn’t keep God from using it to bless his people. He can do it through governments, through institutions and organizations, through relationships, through resources, etc. – all to serve his people and his kingdom. Through the world he shows his strength, even though the world doesn’t acknowledge him.

And through the Church, too, he shows his strength… or should we say in spite of the Church? The pastor refers to his church, as if he’s the one who built it. Church members refer to pastor so-and-so’s church, as if to overlook that God placed that pastor into that ministry. Christian leaders point to what they’ve achieved by this ministry plan or taking that approach, neglecting to credit God with the one doing all the work and blessing it with success.

The Lord is the source of our strength, and you know where he shows it best? In his Word and sacraments, where he pronounces forgiveness to Samson-like sinners who miserably fail again and again when leaning on their own strength. When our puffed-up pride is exposed and blown apart like a straw house, Jesus is there to pick up the pieces again and again with the mighty strength of salvation and forgiveness. It’s not in his polished six-pack abs – but in absolution – where God displays his muscle. Grace – not gold medals – is how God shows greatness. Forgiveness – not flexing – is how God demonstrates his strength. 

Samson was set apart by God from birth, but he failed to grow much at all in his faith by seeing the Lord as the source of his strength. He lost sight of the source of his strength. It wasn’t until the day of his death that he recognized it and in repentance humbly asked the Lord to grant him the strength for one final strike against the Philistines. God granted his request, and as the columns collapsed under Samson’s God-given brute strength, he ended up killing more Philistines by his own death than he did altogether during his life. 

Don’t make the same mistake. Don’t wait until your dying day to tap into the tools God gives you to maximize his strength. They’re at your disposal right now, every Sunday in worship, every day in the Word, every other week in the Sacrament. Let him strengthen you. Let God show you what he can do through his Church when we rely not on our own sham strength, but on the strength of our Savior and his salvation. We may not remember what it was like to not be able to walk or ride a bike, but let’s never forget that the Lord is – and always will be – the source of our strength.

Rescued by a Reject

(Judges 11:1-14, 27-40)

Would you have done it? Would you have answered the call when they came pleading for you to come to their rescue? Or would you have stewed and ruminated on their words of rejection for so long that you couldn’t bring yourself to do it? Remember, these were the ones who coldly cast you out, rejecting you with the words, “You are not going to get any inheritance in our family, because you are the son of another woman” (Judges 11:2). It wasn’t your fault that dad had slept with a prostitute and you were the result, but it didn’t matter; they had rejected you. But now they were requesting you, begging you, needing you to come to their aid when under attack from the Ammonites. “Come, be our commander, so we can fight the Ammonites” (v.6). Would you have done it?

By now we’re used to some unique details and stories surrounding the judges the Lord has raised up for his people. Jephthah is no exception. What stands out most are two things: 1) he was rejected, only to later be requested for a rescue mission from the very folks who rejected him, and 2) he made – and carried out – a vow that not only tugs at our hearts, but also leaves us scratching our heads. Yet there is also something Jephthah has in common with the previous judges God raised up to rescue his people, which stands out because of its general absence among God’s people: Jephthah’s relationship with the Lord. Before even accepting the invitation to lead the battle against the Ammonites, he acknowledged that any victory would be because the Lord gave it (v.9). He then made it a point to show his dedication to the Lord in official capacity at Mizpah (v.11). In his message to the king of the Ammonites, he had recalled the background of how the Lord had led and directed his people to the land where they presently were (vs. 15-26). Finally, the vow he made to make a burnt offering to the Lord, although it ended tragically, was a type of sacrifice that Israelites would offer up to show their commitment and dedication to the Lord, which was sadly such a rare sight during these times of Israel’s history. 

As the account unfolds and we see how Jephthah responds to the pleas for deliverance, it gives us opportunity to consider our own actions in the face of rejection. We’ve all experienced it to some degree. It may have been the sting of being the last pick on the playground, where no one actually chose you, but they were stuck with you. It may have been a relationship in which you were rejected in favor of someone else. Your input was rejected for an upcoming project at work, and so you weren’t part of that team. You never felt – and maybe still don’t! – like you were good enough for one or both of your parents. 

But then something changed, either in their situation or yours, that resulted in a second opportunity. Now the ones who were so quick to dismiss you are the same ones who need you. The temptation is there, isn’t it – it would feel so good to get them back, to leave them high and dry and get even by turning the tables and telling them to go take a long walk off a short pier. “If I wasn’t good enough then, don’t come groveling to me now – go find someone else.” We relish the idea of seeing them get their just desserts.

We don’t, however, see that in Jephthah. Yes, he does initially remind them that they had turned him away in the past, but that was as much to convict them as it was to puff himself up. He didn’t let his own pride stand in the way of serving the greater good, and more importantly, his great God, by coming to the rescue of his people. He went and he seized the opportunity to show the Israelites what is possible when the spotlight is rightly restored on the only One who deserves it – the Lord.

Shame on us for the times we’ve let bitterness or pride keep us from serving someone else. How embarrassing that as God’s representatives, we have let resentment or the desire to get back at others get in the way of the greater good. We are so quick to accept God’s grace and forgiveness, his willingness to serve us no matter how many times we have rejected him by our sinful choices. But when we have opportunity to model the same spirit toward others, the stubborn, scorned sinner shows through instead of the grateful child of God who has been washed and forgiven and set apart for such acts of love and service!

And though the parallel is not explicitly drawn in Scripture, it is virtually impossible to consider Jephthah’s rejection and then rescue without seeing at least some reflection of Jesus’ rejection and rescue. We note how many times he gave his disciples the heads up that the Son of Man would be rejected, then suffer and die. But that very rejection was a part of the process of our redemption, our rescue. We, too, were rescued by a reject. Jesus was chosen by his Father to carry out our salvation, but the world rejected him. Nonetheless, in the way that only the divine hand of God can, he worked rescue through that rejection. He did that for you and for me, to forgive the ones who had rejected him, who have rejected others, and who have let pride rob us of loving service to others in the name of getting even or letting others get what we think they deserve. For such despicable thoughts and attitudes, Jesus was rejected. From such despicable thoughts and attitudes, we have been rescued. Not being held back by our own pride, we are now free to serve as Jephthah did, with the strength the Lord provides. 

Jephthah was not a hothead. He attempted to work through Israel’s situation with the Ammonites using diplomacy. The in-between verses that were cut out of today’s reading are the extended version of the message he had sent to the king of Ammon, attempting to very diplomatically address the concern he had over who possessed which land. When the king of Ammon made it clear that his mind was made up and there was no room for diplomacy, Jephthah led the Israelites to war. Those details, compared to the accounts provided in the instances of previous judges, are relatively short and sweet. “Then Jephthah went over to fight the Ammonites, and the Lord gave them into his hands. He devastated twenty towns from Aroer to the vicinity of Minnith, as far as Abel Keramim. Thus Israel subdued Ammon” (vs.32-33).

Much more detail is provided regarding the troubling issue of Jephthah’s vow that preceded his success on the battlefield. “And Jephthah made a vow to the Lord: “If you give the Ammonites into my hands, whatever comes out of the door of my house to meet me when I return in triumph from the Ammonites will be the Lord’s, and I will sacrifice it as a burnt offering” (vs.30-31). While we can appreciate Jephthah’s commitment to the Lord, making such a vow – not knowing what he was promising – wasn’t his finest moment. We may have though nothing of it if an animal had greeted him, but it was no animal; instead, Jephthah’s daughter happened to be the one who came out the door to greet him at his triumphant return. 

There are two plausible possibilities that have been put forth to explain how Jephthah’s vow was carried out: 1) he sacrificed her as a burnt offering, which is the simplest and most straight-forward understanding of the text, and certainly the more troubling one, or 2) he dedicated his daughter to the Lord as a life-long virgin. There are far too many points and counterpoints in support of each view than can be discussed in a single sermon, many of them holding significant merit. While we would wish to hold up Jephthah in highest esteem, making preferable any plausible explanation that would allow us to avoid an ugly reality of a man of God sacrificing his own daughter to fulfill his vow, we don’t need Jephthah to have a pristine record before God – even if he is listed among the heroes of faith in Hebrews chapter 11. Why? Because God doesn’t need spotless individuals to pass a sanctification background check in order to use them for his purposes; God has always used flawed men to carry out his purposes. This ensures that no judge, but rather God himself, always remains the hero of the story. God is so determined to rescue, to deliver, that not even a flawed individual is going to keep him from carrying out his work. 

And though Scripture doesn’t explicitly direct us to make this comparison, how can a story about a father sacrificing his only child not direct our thoughts to THE Father sacrificing his own child to fulfill another vow, a promise of salvation and forgiveness for all people? There is a place for digging more deeply into this particular matter of Jephthah’s vow, but may it never overshadow or distract us from the promise fulfilled by the Lord when he gave up his own Son. Amidst the uncertainty of a vow in this account is the certainty of our salvation. We have a Savior who didn’t bear a grudge or resent those who rejected him. Instead, he rescued us.

As you consider this truth, do you have any lingering grudges or resentments against those who have rejected you? Is there any bitterness to which you are clinging? Compare your bitterness toward someone else with how Jesus has chosen to treat you. Let go of your bitterness, resentment, and grudges. Lavish on others the same love and forgiveness that your Savior has lavished on you. Amen.

When God’s Not Part of the Plan

(Judges 9:1-25, 46-57)

I wasn’t planning on leading a group of 50 hikers to the top of Mt. San Gorgonio (11,500 elev.) this past week at Good Shepherd Bible Camp, but that’s what ended up happening. In hindsight, one of the biggest takeaways for me was the importance of planning. Making sure everyone stays in their group, has enough water and snacks, and knows what to expect is hugely important. 

As we continue our series in the book of Judges this morning, we also see how important planning is. Actually, not just planning in general, but planning that involves God. Or, as in the case this morning, what it looks like when God’s not part of the plan.

Previously in our series on the book of Judges, the Lord spoke to Deborah. The Lord also came directly to Gideon. Today, we see that the Lord did not come to Abimelech; neither did Abimelech seek out the Lord. And, while the time of the Judges can in general be characterized as a spiritual dumpster fire for the Israelites, Abimelech takes us to a new low. As we look at his particular cycle of the downward spiral of Judges, he shows us quite clearly what happens when God’s not part of the plan. 

Before we go any further, we have to address this reality: sometimes non-believers have it really good in life. Maybe that’s no news flash to anyone here, but we need to acknowledge and understand that so we don’t walk away this morning with the wrong idea that so long as God is in the picture, then life is a dream; if he’s not, then it’s a nightmare. It just isn’t true! Some non-believers have a fantastic life and many believers have one burden to bear after another. Why doesn’t God make life more miserable for the non-believer? There are two different ways he can use an abundance of earthly blessings for his eternal purposes. In one case he might desire that his kindness and generosity lead the non-believer to repentance (cf. Romans 2:4). He might also use an abundance of worldly blessings to lead the non-believer that much sooner to the conclusion that worldly wealth without the Lord is ultimately meaningless (cf. Ecclesiastes). So even when he’s good to the non-believer, his goal is still very much an eternal one that has the concern of souls as its focus. 

For you and me, then – for believers, God shows us what is a general truth in the life of the Christian, based on a real promise that Jesus made in Matthew 6:33: “Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” In worldly terms, God’s generous goodness can shower non-believer or believer alike. But only a God-centered life will yield spiritual blessings and joys that can simply never be experienced when God’s not part of the plan. 

In Abimelech’s case, things got off to a selfish start. There is a noticeable distinction between this account and the two judges we have looked at previously. In each of their cases, God was a part of the dialogue with Deborah and Gideon. But he is nowhere to be found in Abimelech’s case – except when being rebuked by someone else. Abimelech wasn’t concerned about God’s wishes or will for his life – he wanted power, and he had a plan for how to secure it. With a little political prowess, he convinced the people of Shechem that they’d be better off being ruled by just one ruler – him – than some sort of divided rulership made up of his 70 brothers. Furthermore, since his mother was Gideon’s concubine from Shechem, he appealed to flesh and blood – he was one of their own! He went to the people and said, “Which is better for you: to have all seventy of Jerub-Baal’s sons rule over you, or just one man? Remember, I am your flesh and blood” (Judges 9:2). Abimelech’s plan was not guided by God in any way whatsoever – he got off to a purely selfish start.

How many times have we been stumped at that stage – the very beginning – because we, too, were far more interested in pursuing our plans rather than seeking God’s counsel on what he would have us do? Simply because we have faith in Jesus does not mean that it’s a given that we seek God’s guidance. A person may have saving faith in Jesus that ensures them a home in heaven, while also largely ignoring God’s guidance or direction for the better part of life. It may not be a matter of not knowing what God would have them do in a situation, but a consistent failure to actually act on that, to intentionally align their life with God’s guidance and direction. So while they see Jesus as Savior, he’s often left at the kiddie table when significant life decisions are being made. When a Christian considers a job offer or relocation opportunity without giving thought to the proximity of our nearest church, how much was God really a part of that plan? When I choose words or actions that dishonor God for the sake of my own popularity or attention, is God really a part of that thought process? When in general our approach is to plan first, then pray second and seek God’s blessings on our plans after we’ve decided what we want to do, is God really a part of those plans, or are we simply treating him like the stamp of approval we’d appreciate in order to move forward with our plans?  

Look at the result of Abimelech’s failure to include God in his plans. His selfish start resulted in godless gain. The citizens of Shechem pledged their allegiance to him with their checkbooks. What did Abimelech do with the money? “They gave him seventy shekels of silver from the temple of Baal-Berith, and Abimelek used it to hire reckless scoundrels, who became his followers” (v.4). He hired thugs. He assembled a gang. It wasn’t as if Abimelech’s fine reputation had earned followers genuinely or that soldiers would be willing to valiantly die an honorable death for him. No, he paid punks to push people around. 

And that’s exactly what they did. But it wasn’t just bullying or scare tactics that he had his men carry out; he authorized them to murder his own flesh and blood. At his dad’s house no less, he turned a stone into a slaughterhouse where he put to death almost all of his brothers. Only Jotham, Gideon’s youngest son and Abimelech’s youngest brother, escaped.

Ever notice how things rather quickly go from bad to worse when we do them our own way and God’s not part of the plan? Abimelech had established himself as a commander of criminals who had committed murder. After that, his little brother who had escaped his execution efforts proclaimed a pronouncement of judgment on him. We notice something else about Jotham’s prophecy against Abimelech: it’s the first time God is mentioned in the account. What Jotham essentially prophesies is that each of the parties involved in this whole shameful account – Abimelech and the people of Shechem who supported his rise to power – would get burned by each other. And that was exactly what happened. God turned the people of Shechem against Abimelech and they ended up throwing their support behind an adversary, Gaal, who was happy to bad-mouth Abimelech and welcome his dissenters (read through verses 26-45 of Judges 9 for those details). Long story short, Abimelech squashed Gaal and his men, forcing the people of Shechem to secure themselves inside the tower of the very same temple from which they first withdrew their financial support for Abimelech. There, trapped inside the tower, Abimelech burned alive a thousand men and women. But as he pressed on to the next city, where he encountered more citizens secured inside a tower, a woman lifted a millstone over the edge of the tower and cracked Abimelech’s skull, ultimately resulting in his death. 

Has it happened that way for you? Perhaps not to the extent of how it ended for Abimelech, but have you experienced things going from bad to worse when God was left out of the plans? A job offer or relocation that didn’t consider the location of a new church family results in at least a season – prayerfully not an eternity! – of drifting away from God. A greater concern over what others think of me than honoring God with words and actions results in sin becoming less black and white and more in the gray area as I justify my choices. I make my plans and then pray for God to bless them instead of praying for God to guide my process of planning in the first place and wonder why things seldom seem to work out the way I had hoped. Things can quickly, or sometimes even worse – very gradually – go from bad to worse when God’s not part of the plan. Abimelech’s story may hit frightfully close to home if we go the same route.

The fact that it hasn’t already, and that we can learn from this account in Judges, is a testament of how desperately God works behind the scenes to keep you as his own, even when we have allowed him to become an afterthought. This is grace: even when God’s not part of our plans, we’re always a part of his. Think of how often we include others in something with the expectation that they’ll do the same for us. We give someone a Christmas card only because we got one from them, or just to see if they’ll send one to us if we send one to them. We operate under the assumption that others will reciprocate our thoughtfulness when we include them. God didn’t wait for us to include him in our plans, but included us in his from eternity. From eternity, his plan of forgiveness and salvation included you, and nothing you can do will compel him to alter or change his plans. Jesus came on the scene to secure God’s plan for you. 

Abimelech raised himself up. Your Savior lowered himself. Abimelech appealed to flesh and blood to garner support. Jesus became flesh and spilled his blood to show you his love. And still today he gives his own flesh and blood for you in the Supper. Jesus was everything that Abimelech was not. Jesus was everything that you and I are not. No one in the world will ever devise a greater plan than God’s plan to save, a plan that included you. Your eternity is secure because his plan included you. Do you think it might be beneficial if more of your plans include him?

God Can Do a Lot with a Little

(Judges 6:33-7:25)

450 to 1. That’s how outnumbered Gideon’s 300 soldiers were. An army of 135,000 vs. an army of 300 (if you can call 300 soldiers an army!). There is not a military strategist in history who would go to battle with those odds. There is no plan that could be devised that would see 300 soldiers victorious against 135,000 – especially in the days predating all the technology and weapons we have today to fight wars with – when hand-to-hand combat was how battle was carried out. No one in his right mind would take those odds, that chance, and willingly initiate any sort of engagement when the deck is that stacked against you. 

But you know what? God can do a lot with a little. He makes that abundantly clear as we focus on the next judge in our series, Gideon. 

Before we dig more into the story of Gideon, in order for today’s takeaway to sink in, I want to take a few moments to consider where you might need this reminder that God can do a lot with a little. There are so many areas in our lives that are filled with too little, with not enough – so many areas that are inadequate or insufficient. Or at least that’s the way we allow ourselves to think. Where do you think you are too little, or you have too little, or are lacking in one way or another? Now ask this question: do you really have too little in these areas of your life, or is the real issue that you think too little of God to be able to do anything with it? May our time exploring God’s goodness to Gideon this morning change not only your mind, but the way you think about God and what he is capable of. 

Look what God had to work with in the case of Gideon. He started with a nobody. When the Lord came to Gideon, he wasn’t decked out in imposing armor preparing to lead an army into a glorious victory on the battlefield. He wasn’t seated on a throne in kingly fashion in some palace somewhere. No, he was threshing wheat, and not even in the normal fashion, but as inconspicuously as possible – he was hidden in a winepress so as not to alert the Midianites. He was nothing more than a common man carrying out manual labor. That’s when the Lord addressed him. “The LORD turned to him and said, ‘Go in the strength you have and save Israel out of Midian’s hand. Am I not sending you?’ ‘But Lord,’ Gideon asked, ‘how can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family’” (Judges 6:14-15). Gideon didn’t see himself as being up to the task. His view of self was so low that he could not imagine God using him for such a monumental task! Sound familiar? Remember when the Lord came to Moses to send him to save Israel from Pharaoh’s hand? His response was similar: “Who am I?” (Ex. 3:11). Gideon wasn’t the first time the Lord used a nobody to get things done, and he won’t be the last. 

Can you relate to Gideon? You can. You have. Throughout different stages of life we all struggle with the same feelings of inferiority or being unqualified. “I’m not ready to make the jump to high school. I’m not actually good enough to do the job for which I just got hired. I’m not qualified to be a parent to a newborn – I have no idea what I’m doing. I can’t make this marriage work. I can’t care for my aging parents. I can’t be a leader in my church.” We echo the same refrain that Moses and Gideon echoed: “How can I do this? Who am I?” Do you know why that’s so natural for us to think that way?

Because it’s true. When God started with you, he started with a nobody. Actually it was worse than that. A nobody would have been neutral, indifferent, happy to just remain anonymous. But by nature you came into this world as God’s enemy. The sin you were born in set you against God from the start. His perfect holiness doesn’t sit well with sinners. So we oppose him. We despise him. We guard our sin. We defend our sin. We don’t need him telling us it’s wrong today. If nothing changes, we remain on that same path of opposition to God the rest of our lives.

But you’re here because something did change. You did, because God changed you. God took you, his enemy – a nobody, and washed you clean with Jesus’ blood. The very God we despised by nature is the gracious God who made us more precious in his eyes than we could ever have made ourselves. Grace and forgiveness transform nobodies into somebodies in God’s eyes. Without sin as a barrier between you and God, he sees you as he made you to be: perfect, righteous, and ready. Ready for him to use you as he sees fit. Ready to be sent for his purposes. God can do a lot with a little. You are the proof. You weren’t much. But now you are everything to him. He would die for you. He did die for you.

Speaking of doing a lot with a little, kind of sounds like how the Lord carried all of this out, doesn’t it? God made a powerful demonstration of that through Jesus in general. A lot with a little. A little child. Born in little Bethlehem. A little cross outside Jerusalem. One man, not a nobody by any stretch of the imagination, but the God-man, Jesus, put to death on it. Yet through this one crucifixion, this one little death on Good Friday, a cataclysmic event unfolded. Hell lost its hold. And on Easter morning, as the empty tomb opened up, so did heaven, ready to welcome every nobody made a somebody through faith in the Savior, Jesus. 

God can do a lot with a little. Jesus made a powerful demonstration of that in our Gospel today as he fed thousands with a little. He had previously turned out the best wine ever tasted at a wedding in Cana, only needing a little water to do so. 

So let us bring it back to Gideon. Could God do a lot with a little? You already know the answer, but it’s as if God wanted to underscore it in the way he weeded out Gideon’s fighting force. He started with 32,000, but that was too many in God’s opinion, for he was concerned about Israel boasting that its victory was a result of its own strength (7:2-3). So he had Gideon dismiss 22,000 who were afraid to fight and allowed them to return home. That left 10,000 soldiers, but God wasn’t done weeding them out yet. He then had the remaining men get down for a drink of water, and from the different ways they drank water, he sorted them out so that just 300 men remained. That was how God wanted to demonstrate that he could do a lot with a little. 

But what of Gideon’s doubt, you ask? What about his insistence on a handful of signs? There are of course instances in Scripture in which the demand on the part of God’s people for a sign stems from outright doubt. This does not appear to be one of them. No, in this case, Gideon was simply well aware of his own insufficiencies. He wasn’t questioning anything on God’s end; he was questioning himself. So he asked God to let him know that he was sure he had the right guy for the job, a nobody like Gideon. 

What does this say to your doubts? Do you have a rather low opinion of yourself like Gideon? Or perhaps your view of yourself is is on the other end of the spectrum – rather inflated? Finally, let’s confess that sin of thinking of self too much and leave it behind and instead deal with the real issue: the question of what we think of God? What is God able to do? The answer is, anything. Anything. There is nothing he cannot do. Now I don’t know if we have kind of forgotten that or if the common “science-backed” refrain we hear everywhere today has eaten away at our confidence that God actually can do anything, but it remains true. God can do anything. And, God can do anything with anyone.

That includes you. So go back and revisit those areas of life in which you think or you have too little, those areas where you’re convinced that nothing’s ever going to change or improve because you just don’t measure up. If God – not Gideon, but God – can use 300 men to topple an army of 135,000, is God able to change or improve that area of life where there’s too little, where you’re too little? Absolutely. If you struggle to believe it, then it’s because your confidence is misplaced. You think too little of yourself. You don’t think you can do it. You think you’re not enough. Stop limiting what God can do by wrongly thinking you’re the one doing it! It’s not you. It’s not going to be you. It’s going to be God, always the Lord, who can do a lot – so much more than you could imagine! – with a little. 

Stop thinking you’re too old. Stop thinking you’re too young. Stop thinking you’re not smart enough. Stop thinking you’re not spiritual enough. Stop thinking you’re not experienced enough. Stop. Thinking. About. Yourself. Let those who think like this belong to the world. Let the Church instead be filled with bold believers whose confidence rests 100% in a good, gracious God who can do anything with anyone.

God’s Promises Don’t Need to Be Propped Up

(Judges 4)

How soon do you suppose your next flight would be able to take off if, after accelerating for a few seconds, the pilot repeatedly had to slow down for something on the runway? How likely do you think an Olympic long-jumper is to take home a medal if keeps slowing down and speeding up as he approaches his jump? Neither the pilot nor the long-jumper are going to have much success, are they? There are just some things in life that simply require a measure of momentum in order to achieve success. Without that momentum, certain limitations can’t be broken; we get stuck. 

Has your spiritual life ever felt like that? Or, maybe your spiritual life has only felt like that! We start, then slow down, then maybe stop, then start up again, but the only result we ever seem to achieve is that we end up getting stuck. Or backsliding. But any progress seems to be short-lived. Either we take our foot off the gas and slip into complacency, or sin abruptly steals our momentum. How do we break the cycle? How do we get unstuck? Enter the time of Judges. 

You want to see what it looks like to get stuck, to get caught up in an unhealthy cycle that gets progressively worse, spiraling downward like dirty bathwater circling the drain? Look at the 300-350 year period after Moses and Joshua, before any kings were ever established in Israel, and you see the same pattern repeated: rebellion, regret, and rescue. The Israelites would turn away from God in favor of the surrounding pagan worship and customs. Oppression from those pagan nations would ensue, resulting in the Israelites calling out to the Lord in desperation for deliverance. God would raise up a judge and rescue, and the whole cycle would repeat itself again and again for over 300 years. As we study several key judges over the next several weeks in this series, we want to take note of key takeaways that each judge provides to help us get unstuck and break the cycle, so that we can finally make the progress we’ve wanted in our spiritual lives. 

The book of Judges begins on a high note: “After the death of Joshua, the Israelites asked the LORD,…” (1:1). Joshua had led them well! When they needed direction, they knew to seek out the Lord, and so they asked him how to proceed in securing the land he had promised them. Unfortunately, they failed to act in the same confident faith that was a staple of Joshua’s leadership, and so the whole rest of the first chapter of Judges – and essentially the snare that would plague Israel throughout this period of history and up to and through the age of kings – was this: they failed to completely drive out the enemy. Again and again the refrain is the same: each tribe would advance, fight, get comfortable with their success, but then fail to completely drive out their enemies. 

The Lord made clear to them the long-term damage that would result. “‘You shall break down their altars.’ Yet you have disobeyed me. Why have you done this? Now therefore I tell you that I will not drive [your enemies] out before you; they will be thorns in your sides and their gods will be a snare to you” (2:2-3). So it comes as no surprise the tragedy that results shortly thereafter. “After that whole generation had been gathered to their fathers, another generation grew up, who knew neither the LORD nor what he had done for Israel” (2:10). Think it doesn’t matter when we treat our religion, our Christian faith, our relationship with God, like a spare tire? When we allow it to remain nothing more than something that is accessible to us only when absolutely needed in extreme situations, this is what happens. And let’s embrace the sad reality: this is what is currently happening right now in the church. 

Notice I said “church.” It would have been an easier pill to swallow if I had said “in our country,” right? Because that doesn’t sting as much. It depresses us, sure. It frustrates us, definitely. But it also easily allows us to pass the buck and blame everyone else for the direction we’re going. But we’re the ones – you and me – who are guilty of repeating the same deadly cycle that is blatantly obvious throughout the time of Judges. We start out on the high note, seeking out the LORD, but then we either don’t bother to obey what he says, or only partially so, we get caught up in one sinful snare after another, and wonder how things got so bad and how the next generation seems so hopeless. It’s our fault! So do we want to keep repeating the cycle, or do we wish to actually do something about it and break the cycle? Then let’s commit not just to learning the lessons that the book of Judges teaches us, but actually living them, applying them, and putting them into action. Let’s lean on God’s power to equip us to break the cycle and not settle, but strengthen ourselves and the next generation of believers. 

The first lesson God teaches us in our Judges series is that his promises don’t need any human help to bolster them up and make them more believable. God’s promises need no human intervention to validate them or make them more palatable. We take God at his word because it is God’s Word. 

As we look at chapter four, already we see the cycle repeating. God had already delivered his people through the previous judge, Ehud. He provided them relief from oppression, but with that rest and relief they also became relaxed spiritually, and not in a good way. “Again the Israelites did evil in the eyes of the Lord, now that Ehud was dead.  So the Lord sold them into the hands of Jabin king of Canaan, who reigned in Hazor. Sisera, the commander of his army, was based in Harosheth Haggoyim. Because he had nine hundred chariots fitted with iron and had cruelly oppressed the Israelites for twenty years, they cried to the Lord for help” (Judges 4:1-3). Sisera and his iron-reinforced chariots were wreaking havoc on the Israelites. The advantage he had would be like an army of infantry today going up against a tank battalion – no contest. God, however, would turn the tables on Sisera and Israel’s enemies by showing that opposing him would yield the same result – no contest. 

He spoke through his representative, Deborah, to reveal how he would bring about deliverance and rescue his people. Who was Deborah? We’re told she was leading Israel at the time. She was a prophet recognized by Israel as being gifted with discernment to provide counsel and direction and settle disputes as they arose. Remember this was the time before the monarchy had been established, before Israel had begged to be like other nations and have its own kings. And it was after God had appointed a permanent leaders like Moses and Joshua to lead his people with the specific purpose of guiding them out of Egypt into the promised land. For this time, God saw fit to lead his people through these individual judges, and Deborah was one of them. 

She showed herself to be an exceptional leader, even more so because of the obvious contrast from Barak, the man called to lead the Israelites into battle. If we wonder why, in a primarily patriarchal culture and Bible history in general, a woman (Deborah) was leading, perhaps Barak’s hesitancy to follow God’s direction demonstrates the answer for us. When the Lord had revealed through Deborah that he planned to give Sisera and his army into Barak’s hands, hear again how Barak responded: “Barak said to her, ‘If you go with me, I will go; but if you don’t go with me, I won’t go’” (v.8). Deborah rightly pointed out that her command had come right from the top, right from the Lord himself, who had promised victory! But God’s direct promise alone wasn’t enough for Barak; he required human intervention. He needed the assurance that Deborah would accompany him.

Think of how backwards that is! How often don’t we find ourselves in a situation that leads us to the conclusion, “Only a miracle will save us now,” or “only divine intervention will change this outcome”? Yet divine intervention is exactly what the Lord promised to Barak, and it wasn’t enough. He thought that he needed an additional confidence booster from a human being. It should have been the other way around! Barak should have told Deborah to sit tight and that he’d be right back, because the Lord had already guaranteed that victory was a done deal!

Wouldn’t we all like to have a little more Deborah and a little less Barak in each of us? We have a Bible stacked with God’s promises of intervention on behalf of his people, yet we insist on worldly confidence boosters before acting on those promises by faith. The Lord promises to watch over our coming and going, but it takes the confidence booster of a clean bill of health from the doctor for me to believe it. Jesus reminds us that since he dresses the flowers and feeds the birds, we don’t need to lose any sleep over his ability to provide for our needs. But it takes the confidence booster of a steady job and income and to put my mind at ease. God promises that forgiveness and heaven are his free gifts only by grace, only through faith, but I am easily deceived by the false confidence booster that I’ve been a pretty good person to really reassure me. 

We have it backwards! God’s Word is enough. God’s promises are enough. How can some earthly factor or some worldly circumstance add any value whatsoever to what God himself has declared? It can’t. Nothing can. Barak needed Deborah’s assurance for God’s promise of deliverance to be more believable. God forgive us for every time we need some added assurance for God’s promise of deliverance to be more believable!

But God delivers anyway, despite our doubt, just as he did for Barak and the Israelites. “At Barak’s advance, the Lord routed Sisera and all his chariots and army by the sword, and Sisera got down from his chariot and fled on foot. Barak pursued the chariots and army as far as Harosheth Haggoyim, and all Sisera’s troops fell by the sword; not a man was left” (v.15-16). Not a man was left! How does an army of foot soldiers not just scrape by, but completely wipe out a superior fighting force of state-of-the-art chariots? God intervenes, and emphatically at that! Read the praise song of victory in the next chapter and discover that divine intervention definitely played a role! The very plain in the valley that Sisera thought would give his chariots an advantage became his undoing when roaring waters rendered them useless (cf. 5:21)! And though Sisera was able to escape Barak’s sword, he could not escape the Lord, who humbled Barak by allowing a woman, Jael, to fearlessly finish him off. 

As he did Barak, God may choose to humble us for requiring additional confidence boosters to trust in his promises. But here’s what will not change: God will always keep his promises. Now if God waited on us until he had 100% perfect and complete trust from us, well, he’d hardly be able to keep a single promise! He doesn’t operate that way, though, as you know. He doesn’t withhold from us what he has a right to. He doesn’t treat us as he has a right to. He doesn’t give us what we really deserve. Instead, he delivers. Just as we’ll see over the course of the next several weeks in Judges, God delivers. 

In baptism, he delivers. In his Supper, he delivers. Through his Word, he delivers. He always delivers! He delivered his Son into this world so that he could deliver his Son for this world. He has done this great thing – the greatest thing – for you. His forgiveness flows freely to you in an abundant stream that will never slow to a trickle, but will always overflow. You are his and he will deliver you always. Let’s stop the cycle and start taking his promises at face value, not requiring any earthly circumstance at all to make his promises more palatable.

God Calls Me to Glorify Him

(Colossians 3:15-17)

Three letters, SDG, not to be confused with the San Diego Gas & Electric company (SDGE), can sometimes be found at the close of a Christian book or essay. Many a paper at pastor conferences has closed with those very letters. The Lutheran composers Bach and Handel included the letters in many of their musical compositions. What do they stand for? They are three Latin words – Soli Deo Gloria – which mean, “to God alone be the glory.” It is a reminder that whatever worthwhile or significant contribution a person might make, God, who gave everyone their ability, skill, and talent to do anything excellent at all, is the one who deserves the glory. 

As we consider that element of our vocation, our calling, to glorify God, it might be helpful to first define what it means to give glory to someone or something. We sing of it in our songs and hymns, we come across it again and again in the Bible, so what do we mean when we speak of giving glory to or glorifying God? Is it one of those churchy terms that naturally flows from our lips without really processing in our heads and hearts what it actually means? What then does it mean to glorify God?

Actually, before we step into the “what” or even “how,” we may better be served addressing the “why.” Why glorify God? If we don’t know why it makes a difference to give glory to God, then the what or the how don’t really matter, do they? The what without the why ends up being that unused kitchen gadget that you had to have at the time, but which ends up at the back of the gadget drawer or tucked away in the back of a cupboard somewhere because you don’t remember why you ever got it. Knowing what or how it looks like to glorify God will only help us if knowing why moves and compels us to actually do so.

First things first, let’s be clear on this: God is already glorious. Glory already belongs to God. It is his, entirely independent of anything we might do. God doesn’t need us to give him glory. The psalmist pointed to creation itself as an indicator of his glory. “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork” (Psalm 19:1). Moreover, Jesus, the heart and soul of everything God had promised, by virtue of the victory he came to bring all people, is rightly called “a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel” (Luke 2:32). So glory already belongs to God. It is his as a result of his jaw-dropping creation and his unconditional salvation. In that regard we cannot bestow glory to God anymore than we can give the sun light or heat, for the sun is the source of those things and they emanate from it. In the same way, God’s glory emanates from him. Therefore, when we speak of glorifying him, this isn’t talk of giving something to God that he somehow lacks.

Why then do we glorify him? Why do we speak of giving him glory if it’s already his? The Bible reveals no fewer than three reasons why. First, when we glorify God we are simply acknowledging and highlighting the glory that is already his. We’re giving it the attention it deserves, giving him the attention he deserves. In giving glory to God, we are saying God is the GOAT (Greatest Of All Time). I recently saw a close-up of the glitter on Simone Biles’ gymnastics uniform. There is a subtle – or not so subtle once you realize it’s there – picture of a goat on it. Why? Because she is considered the GOAT of gymnastics, the greatest of all time. While there will always be debate over who is the goat in their respective fields when it comes to celebrities and superstars, there is no debate when God is brought into the discussion. We glorify him because we acknowledge that God is the GOAT. There never was, nor will there be anyone or anything greater. He is truly the greatest of all time. 

One who understood this and reflected it beautifully was John the Baptist. In speaking of Jesus, John the Baptist reflected: “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30). Less of us to make room for more of God. We’ve all seen the decal on the back of cars that reflects this attitude, He > i. In humility we recognize that God is worthy of all attention, commendation, praise, and anything else of worth we might offer up to him. We glorify God because he alone is worthy of it. God is the GOAT.  

In doing so, we also benefit. A second reason we glorify God becomes rather obvious when reflecting on the frequency of a certain attitude in the words from Colossians. Each verse in its own way reveals the same attitude, one of gratitude. The phrases “be thankful,” “with gratitude in your hearts,” and “giving thanks” go hand-in-hand with glorifying God. Which one comes first, the glorifying or the gratitude? It doesn’t matter – they feed off of each other! As we glorify God, it fills us with gratitude, and the more we’re filled with gratitude, the more we want to glorify God. It becomes a spiritually healthy cycle that just keeps feeding itself. Glory leads to gratitude, and gratitude leads to glory. God is magnified, and we are filled with gratitude. 

Now I don’t know where you might struggle emotionally. It might be worry that weighs on you. Perhaps anxiety rather easily overwhelms you. Maybe anger or short bursts of rage have plagued you. But you know what can help with all of them? Gratitude. It’s not very easy to worry, to be anxious, or to be angry when I am filled with gratitude. In fact, it’s extremely difficult, if not impossible, for those emotions to coexist with gratitude! Why else do we glorify God? Because when we remember that God is the GOAT, we also benefit, for glorifying him fills us with gratitude. 

The third reason we glorify God is for the benefit of others. Through faith our eyes have been opened to see God’s glory in so many ways. But Paul reminds us elsewhere that that isn’t the case for everyone. Sin blurs God’s glory so that it is not naturally seen. “The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God” (2 Corinthians 4:4). If you’ve been hiking or outside enjoying nature and caught sight of something spectacular off in the distance or using binoculars, it’s frustrating when you try to help someone else see it, but they can’t spot it. We point here and give directions there as to where they should be looking, but no matter what, they just can’t see it. We want so badly for them to see what we’re looking at, but the moment passes and they miss out. 

God doesn’t want that to be the case when it comes to the unbeliever seeing his glory. So what is his solution? You are. Listen to how Peter echoed the words of Jesus from our Gospel (cf. Mt. 5:13ff) this morning. Peter wrote, “Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us” (1 Peter 2:12). What does it mean for them to “see your good deeds and glorify God”? It means that they were brought to faith – through you! Not that God somehow did an end-around and avoided his Word in the process, but rather through you, God wants to draw others to his glory, always revealed through the Word, so they, too, might know him as their Savior! That’s why Jesus sends us to be salt and light, so that others might bring him glory by believing in him. 

We may not always like playing the numbers game. We sometimes downplay the tracking of numbers, of attendance, of metrics, and surely we do have to be careful when it comes to an unhealthy focus on numbers. But you know what? God is a numbers guy. God is very interested in numbers! You know how many people he wants to be in heaven with him to spend eternity with him when he returns on the Last Day? More. Always more. It’s safe to say that if Jesus hasn’t returned yet, God is waiting for more to be added. That means he’s waiting for you to glorify him with your good deeds that are so attractive to the unbelieving world that they are drawn to him and to his Word, and are added to his kingdom. 

There’s your why. We glorify God because God is the GOAT, because it fills us with gratitude, and because it turns unbelievers into believers. Now let’s put some gas in the tank. What fuels us to give glory to God? It’s the peace that he first gives to us. Gratitude isn’t the only theme that runs through the verses from Colossians this morning; so is peace. Paul wrote, “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him” (Colossians 3:15-17). Where does the gratitude that goes hand-in-hand with glorifying God come from? It comes from the peace that we have in Jesus. 

Do you have that peace? I mean, really, does peace mark your days? Are they characterized by peace, or… something else? Busyness? Inadequacy? Guilt? Restlessness? You do know that Jesus came to set you free from all of that, right? So if you don’t have it, why don’t you have it? Paul hits on what might be one thing to address if you’re lacking peace: “let the message of Christ dwell in you richly.” Richly. Richly. Richly. When we allow the Word to be an afterthought or an “I’ll get to it later” in our lives, we’re only robbing ourselves of the peace we already have in Jesus! He’s already done it all. You are forgiven. You are at peace with God. Your sin doesn’t count against you. And, the icing on the cake is that he’s already perfectly glorified his Father (cf. John 17) in your place! The work has been done. Live in the joy that Jesus has already earned for you. There is no fear for the child of God; just peace. When we live in that peace, glorifying God pours naturally out of it. 

So now to the practical matter of carrying out our calling, of giving glory to God – how do we do this? What qualifies as giving glory to God? After all, giving glory to God is a pretty big deal, right, so we must be talking about stuff on a pretty grand scale! Rightly giving glory to God surely involves overseas mission trips and generous charitable gifts and serving faithfully for years on church boards and committees – these are the things that truly glorify God, right? Sure they do. 

But so do these: the every day, the mundane, the routine, the often-overlooked, the seemingly small and unnoticed words and actions that we carry out every single day. These, too, are the things by which we can glorify God! It’s not the scale of the service that determines whether or not God is glorified in what we do, but rather the spirit of faith by which we do it. Simply put, virtually anything we do can be a way to glorify God, which is what Paul was emphasizing when he wrote “whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus” (v.17). When I consider that it is God who gave me the life and breath and health and ability to do anything and everything, all of it can glorify him. Then go and take out the trash to God’s glory. Wash the dishes to God’s glory. Lend your neighbor a hand to God’s glory. Change a diaper to God’s glory. Work hard at your job and help your coworker who is behind on a deadline to God’s glory. Attend church to God’s glory. Post on Facebook to God’s glory. Go on a date to God’s glory. When these and everything else we do are carried out because the peace we have in Jesus fills us up with such gratitude, then we are carrying out God’s calling to glorify him. And we joyfully do that because God is the GOAT, because it raises our own gratitude, and because God uses it to make believers out of unbelievers. So go out and live an SDG life – Soli Deo Gloria; “to God alone be the glory.”

God Calls Me to Bear My Cross

(Luke 9:21-26)

If you want to tune out for a bit, this might be the sermon to do so, because Jesus isn’t speaking these words to everyone. How do we know that? Because he’s only addressing “whoever wants to be [his] disciple” (v.23). That’s not everyone. That’s rather obvious when it comes to unbelievers. But it isn’t just unbelievers; it’s a whole lot of people inside the church that aren’t really interested in being disciples either. They may be quick to identify as Christians, but the blunt truth is, there’s no shortage of Christians who have little interest in being disciples.

Does being a Christian automatically make one a disciple? Consider two individuals enrolling at SDSU in the fall. One of them attends all the classes, completes the homework, studies hard, and eventually graduates. The other is there to party, making zero academic effort. Which one is the student? In that they are both technically enrolled and pay tuition, each would be considered a student. But an honest evaluation would conclude that only one of them is in reality a student. So also, Scripture lays out criteria that apply to disciples of Jesus: they hold to his teaching (Jn. 8:31), they love one another (Jn. 13:35), they bear fruit (Jn. 15:8), and they make other disciples (Mt. 28:19), to name a few. To that list, Jesus adds yet another challenge: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (v.23). There you have it. Jesus’ disciples are called to bear our cross. Doing so involves a three-step checklist: deny self, bear crosses, and Follow Jesus. 

Do you know why this is such a struggle for us? We want to jump right to the cross-bearing part, which is tough enough as it is… but made even tougher if we don’t address the bigger obstacle in the way before we even get to the cross-bearing part: ourselves. Imagine if every time you opened your eyes, no matter what you were trying to look at or which direction you were looking, all you saw directly in front of you was a mirror, reflecting yourself back to you. While there isn’t literally a mirror right in front of you 24/7, that really is the problem each one of us has – it’s completely natural for us to see ourselves before we see anyone or anything else.

Trace that reality all the way back to Eden. Adam and Eve believed Satan’s lie that God was trying to hide their true reflection, that he didn’t want them to see how god-like they really were, convincing them that they’d see what they actually looked like if they just ate the fruit. The reality was, they had a perfect view – the wonderful image of a gracious, caring, loving God who designed an amazing world for them! But they traded it in to be able to replace that image with a picture of themselves.

They got it, but it wasn’t what they had hoped. The mirror with their reflection was completely cracked. It has been ever since, and sin’s curse has carried with it the desire to see only self and nothing else. So what does it mean to deny self? It means shattering the mirror so we can see beyond the reflection of self, so we can put up a fight against our selfish, self-absorbed worldview.

Then we’re ready to pick up a cross, right? We might think so, but we’re not done just yet denying self. There are two other obstacles that we often need to address. We need to slow down and put down. We think the more efficiently/faster we get things done, the sooner we’ll have time for God… but that only speeds up the treadmill; it doesn’t actually ever free us from it. We end up running ourselves ragged because we never slow down. 

And we need to put down. When we finally arrive at the cross we are to take up, we won’t be able to pick it up if we insist on having our hands full with the other things we are carrying! What do you insist on hanging on to that won’t free your hands to pick up your cross? To what are you so attached that it’s worth disqualifying you as a disciple, and possibly even resulting in a forfeit of eternal life? Jesus gave a very blunt warning and then followed it up with a very pointed question. “For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it. What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit their very self?” (v.24-25). Hang on to your loves in this life, whatever they may be, and you run the risk of losing out on eternal life. Put those things down.

Then, assuming we have slowed down and put down enough stuff to finally free up our hands so we can take up our cross, we’re ready to bear it, right? Just one problem: crosses aren’t pleasant! We want to avoid them! We don’t naturally gravitate toward them or ask the Lord for them, and when we see them in our lives, often our first reaction in prayer to the Lord is to ask him to remove them, to get rid of them. They get in the way of our best life now, of the life we’ve been trying to design for ourselves. Crosses, by definition, are not convenient! 

So why do we ever bother bearing any cross at all??? Because bearing crosses bears blessings. It wouldn’t seem like it, but each time you lift up that cross, to carry it, what you find on the other side are the blessings that God had hidden beneath it. Paul mentions many of those blessings in his letters, reminding us that suffering produces perseverance, character, and hope (Romans 5), patient endurance, and comfort (2 Corinthians). We also know that in cases of suffering that the world cannot solve or explain, we are compelled to lean more and more on the Lord, to anchor our trust in him, which ultimately brings us into a closer relationship with him. And each of these blessings from cross-bearing ready us for the next cross to bear, which may be even slightly larger than the previous cross. That’s less daunting… when we realize that blessings are hidden beneath that cross – the larger the cross, the more blessings are hidden beneath it. 

Take that imagery literally. Picture a small cross, one the size of an earring or a necklace. We naturally want to avoid it because remember, bearing a cross will involve hardship and trial; it will in include some measure of suffering. But eventually, when you pick up that small cross, you see the blessings that were hidden underneath it, blessings that would have remained hidden had you never picked up the cross to carry it. Then you come across a little bit bigger cross, one the size of your hand. You immediately remember the difficulty that resulted the last time you picked up the smaller cross. But then you also remember the blessings hidden beneath it. So you pick up this cross, too, and sure enough, beneath the larger cross are hidden even more blessings. And so it goes throughout life – God allows one cross after another to come into your life, sometimes bigger than the previous. Our natural inclination is to avoid the cross, to leave it where it is. But each time we have picked up that cross, an abundance of rich blessings were hidden beneath it, blessings we could not have experienced without the trial or hardship that preceded them. So it is – we bear our cross, and God blesses our cross-bearing. 

We’ve denied, we’re picking up the cross. Now we follow Jesus. “There’s more?!? Weren’t the first two enough?!? What about when Jesus goes a direction I’d rather not, when he veers this way and I’d rather go that way?” Recently I met someone for coffee. It was a place I hadn’t been to yet, so I did what we all do and punched in the address to my navigational app and off we went. It worked just like it was supposed to… until I arrived at the address and there was no coffee place. It wasn’t hidden or tucked away somewhere that I couldn’t see; it was just gone, not at the destination I had punched in. A little looking around online revealed that it had recently moved – very close by, thankfully – but at a different address altogether.

Isn’t that often how our lives work? We punch in where we want to go or where we think we need to go and then we arrive and there’s nothing there, or at least not what we expected. Our own navigation system just isn’t trustworthy, is it? But you know what will never steer us wrong? Following Jesus.

Now following Jesus doesn’t mean that he will provide little signs along the way throughout our lives on every little decision we make. Following him doesn’t mean waiting for him to reveal which menu choice he wants you to make when you go out for breakfast. Neither does it mean he’ll reveal to you whether you should date this person or accept that job. But following him does mean that we look to God’s Word for guidance in our decision making. It does mean that we follow his guidance toward paths that help us avoid sin rather than paths that bring us closer to it. Following Jesus does mean that our relationship with the Bible ought to better resemble our relationship with our phone than it does our relationship with the unused treadmill or exercise bike sitting in the garage. 

And I know it seems like a tall order to follow in the footsteps of perfect Jesus! It IS a tall order! It is impossible. But think of it the way a small child follows in dad’s footsteps after piles of freshly fallen snow. He’d never be able to get through on his own without getting stuck in the snow. But what an easier time is made of it when he simply traces dad’s footsteps ahead of him, each step having packed down the snow in a clear path that makes it much easier to follow. That child will go his own direction at his own risk, but he can’t fail when he follows in his father’s footsteps.

Why is that the case when it comes to following in Jesus’ footsteps? Because we know that the value of following him is not in making it possible for us to perfectly keep in step with him; no, the value is in seeing where those footsteps led: to the cross. Ah, and we have come back to it again, haven’t we? The cross. But this time not to bear it ourselves, but rather in faith to gaze on the One who bore it willingly for us. For if we do not follow his steps to his cross daily in our lives, we will struggle mightily to ever see the point in bearing our own crosses. But to see his cross is to see the price Jesus paid to forgive self-absorbed, imperfect disciples, who prefer to go their own way and avoid any cross placed before them. To follow Jesus to his cross is to see that my forgiveness means freedom for cross-bearing!

Before calling his disciples to pick up their cross and follow him, Jesus reminded them that he had to be rejected, had to suffer, had to be put to death, and had to rise from the dead. All this had to happen so that we could call ourselves his disciples, bought and paid for with his own blood. All this had to happen so that we can now bear our crosses and follow him.

Is any of this easy? Will any one of us ever attain the status of perfect cross-bearers this side of heaven? Never. So God addressed that problem by sending the perfect cross-bearer. Literally. Jesus bore the cross for those who couldn’t as well as those who wouldn’t – he bore it for everyone. He bore his cross so that we can bear ours. We do so because cross-bearing brings blessings. THAT is our calling.

God Calls Me to Love and Serve My Neighbor

(Luke 10:25-37)

It’s a modern re-telling of the story Jesus told, but without the happy ending. About ten years ago now, Hugo, a young homeless man from Guatemala, was stabbed on the streets of Queens, NY.  He had intervened to help a woman escape from an angry man and was stabbed in the process. After stumbling for a bit, Hugo fell to the ground bleeding. Tragic as that was, the account which was all caught on camera, gets more troubling when it reveals what happened over the next hour. One individual came upon Hugo, bent down on the sidewalk to shake him, and even moved him enough to see the pool of blood beneath him. He then walked away. Another two men saw him, talked about him for a bit, and even took a picture of him. Then they walked away, too. One passerby after another walked past, glanced his way, and kept right on walking. Hugo laid their dying for an hour before anyone called the police, at which point it was too late. Experts and psychologists have attempted to offer rational explanations for why no one helped a stabbed man, but they all seem to fall short, leaving us with the ugly reality of how easily mankind is inclined to avoid his vocation, his calling, to love and serve his neighbor. 

It’s interesting, isn’t it, that this is the type of story Jesus told to convict an expert in the law that his take on God’s call to love God and neighbor missed the mark. This story from Jesus, perhaps as much as any others he tells, makes us uneasy. We’d feel a lot better if Jesus had told a story about a cheating husband or a murderer or a liar or any number of other bad things that bad people do, because it’s easier for us to pretend we don’t belong lumped together with those kinds of people. But this one leaves us uncomfortable. This one doesn’t really leave us any easy loopholes by which to escape. It’s pretty clear when Jesus illustrates what it looks like to love and serve my neighbor, that I have neglected my neighbor often. 

And it’s not that we disagree that it’s important to help others. I don’t know too many people – believer or not – who would disagree that we ought to love and serve our neighbor. Most would agree that we’d all be better off as a society following this approach. So if so many people agree about it, then why isn’t it happening? The reason is profoundly simple, and I want to challenge you not just to hear it – don’t just listen for the reason – but take the lead in addressing the problem. You want to know what the problem is? We all agree that our vocation, our calling, is to love and serve our neighbor. In fact, we’re so much in agreement with the statement, that we spend most of our time monitoring how well everyone is doing it.

That’s the problem. How do we address it? Do it yourself, rather than living as if your life is a permanent stakeout, observing the lives of others while overlooking the neighbor you could be loving and serving right next to you. The world doesn’t need more arm-chair quarterback Christians, making it their business to assess how well the world is neighboring; the world needs more Christians – the world needs you – to step up your game in carrying out your calling to love and serve your neighbor. 

Admittedly, there is a HUGE obstacle that gets in the way of our serving our neighbor. The challenge with this obstacle is that we carry it with us everywhere we go: it’s our heart. Proverbs 20:9 asks, “Who can say, ‘I have kept my heart pure; I am clean and without sin?’”  Since the Fall, our hearts have been hijacked by the prince of this world, and even though we belong to God by faith, our hearts still betray us and commit treason, serving the prince of this world instead of the Prince of Peace. Frankly, it shouldn’t surprise us when we struggle to love and serve our neighbor if our hearts, the very source of that love, are sour. Here are three ways that sour hearts stain loving service to our neighbor.

One: we prequalify those we are willing to help. When it comes to credit cards, no one likes to have to take the extra step of prequalifying. Credit card companies know this. It’s why you get all the junk mail for new credit cards that advertise that you’ve been prequalified for their latest, greatest card. Yet we prequalify those who need our help all the time. We have certain standards or expectations or opinions on those we’re willing to help. If we decide someone is taking advantage of unemployment, shame on them – they’ll get no help from me. The homeless drifter I am convinced is probably just going to use anything he gets to support his addiction will get nothing from me. The single mom who had children outside of marriage made that choice and now has to accept the consequences – don’t look to me for help. We prequalify all the time. We determine whose need is worth our time, when the better way is to see any neighbor in need, and take advantage of the time God has given us to meet that need.

A second way our sour hearts stain loving service to our neighbor: the motivation behind our service. What is prompting me to serve my neighbor? Is it genuine love for my neighbor, to meet her need at that specific time and place? Or, is it love for self, to feel better about doing something nice for someone? Or, is it a greater concern of other people’s opinion of me – that others take note of my kind actions? Is it a matter of quickly addressing what is perceived as merely an inconvenience for me? How often is my motivation so pure that it is nothing but genuine loving compassion for my neighbor that prompts me to love and serve him? Not very often.

This has a direct impact on the third way our sour hearts stain loving service to our neighbor: the extent to which we help. This deals with the wrestling match between helping to actually meet someone else’s need or to meet my need to feel good about helping someone. I’ll help meet someone’s needs… to the extent that it’s convenient for me. When that is the case, I am less concerned about whether or not what I offered actually helped the person, and more concerned with feeling good about having done anything at all. But real sacrifice, when it puts me out, when it takes more time than I have, when I have to return to square up the bill like the Samaritan? That is rare.

Then, in addition to these three heart issues, we Christians also have an escape clause that acts as a catch-all to get out of meeting my neighbor’s needs: we justify our neglect of others’ needs by reminding ourselves that Jesus is more concerned about people’s salvation and souls than he is their temporary needs. But why do we pit one against the other when Jesus clearly calls us to care about both? Did Jesus ever take anyone to task for feeding the hungry, telling them, “Stop that – they need spiritual food more than physical food. Don’t waste their time with silly things like hunger”? Or on the flip side, did he ever take anyone to task for talking about sin and grace and faith and forgiveness, saying, “Stop that – they don’t need all that religious talk; what they need is a hot meal”? No, Jesus says to do both, so why do we pit one against the other instead of looking for the countless opportunities he gives us to do both? 

Don’t be so shocked by any of the above – it’s all just a reflection of how corrupt our hearts are in a fallen world – so much for “people are basically good!” Yes, we’re pretty good at making sure our exteriors are nice and polished… as long as you don’t dig beneath the surface! No, don’t be shocked by the ugliness of what’s in here; be shocked by something else – that Jesus came to love and serve hearts like that! 

Wouldn’t it be something if the Samaritan did something else? Wouldn’t it be something if he tracked down the Levite and the priest and offered them some random act of kindness? How would we feel about the Samaritan if he reached out and helped those schmucks? It might make us bristle a bit. We’d cringe.

Until we connect the dots and realize that is our situation. Jesus was much more than a Good Samaritan; he is a perfect Savior. He didn’t just come for the left-for-dead on the side of the road; he came for those who heartlessly passed by the left-for-dead on the side of the road. He came to save sour hearts and souls. He came for you and me. Jesus is the solution David begged for in Psalm 51:10, “Create in me a pure heart, O God.”  Through Jesus, he did! No more sour hearts; our hearts are pure! Take up the invitation extended in Hebrews, “let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience…” (10:22)!

Friends, if that doesn’t change your heart, I am at a loss as to what possibly can. If the reality of the absolute best – Jesus – giving himself for you at your absolute worst doesn’t soothe your sour heart and cause it to start beating with an unyielding and relentless desire to pour yourself into loving service for others, then I am out of ideas. That’s all I have. I can’t drum up some inspirational, moving story that can ever pull at your heart strings like holy Jesus giving himself for heartless us. Rather than desert or ignore us, he mercifully rescued us. And we weren’t even his neighbor; we were his enemies! 

But not anymore! Now we are his friends. For eternity. Forever. What do friends do? They love and serve each other. Jesus continues to love and serve us with his Word and Sacrament to provide us with peace and forgiveness and gush over us with grace. How do we love and serve him? By loving and serving our neighbor. By loving and serving his other friends, the other souls precious and dear to him, the other souls for whom he died, the other souls with whom he longs to spend eternity. And no, you don’t need to wait until someone is left-for-dead to love and serve him; just look for someone who has a need – any need at all – and lovingly meet it as you’re able. THAT is your calling. 

“Help Me See… that God Keeps His Promises”

(Luke 24:13-35)

The most memorable movies almost always have a great ending. What makes for a great ending? While there are a lot of factors that contribute to a great ending, the one that I think stands out the most is when something completely unexpected happens. We recently had this experience in the Grand Canyon. One of the most spectacular hikes was because it was unexpected. While it was impressive to finish the first part of the hike that involved a significant descent, once we got to the first lower section, everything sort of started looking the same. It was as if the hike could have been in any number of other National Parks – it wasn’t too special or unique. But then when we shot off on another trail, almost out of nowhere, an unexpected view caught us by surprise: the steep walls that had surrounded us cracked open and revealed miles of canyon upon canyon, all splitting right from where we were. It was completely unexpected and breathtaking. A good movie ending is like that, leaving the viewer completely caught off guard by a twist that didn’t feel at all forced, leaving him almost speechless. We love those kinds of endings. They’re the ones that make for the most memorable movies. 

So one might expect that we’d also love those kinds of endings in real life, right? Wrong. A movie is one thing; our life is another. No, in life we prefer to know exactly what is happening next. We like to have control. We like to see how we’ll be getting from where we are right now to where we want to be or need to be. We don’t particularly care for the twists or the turns, but would rather see the road ahead of us maintain the straight trajectory that we’re currently on. Keep your twists and turns, thank you very much. 

The problem is, have you noticed by now that the twists and turns are often how God tends to keep his promises? We confuse the path of God’s promises for God passing on his promises. We conclude that God is overlooking his promises when he is in fact overseeing them. A recent devotion used the picture of a detour, which is really a great illustration of how God keeps his promises. We’ve driven a familiar route long enough and expect to get there a certain way. A detour throws everything off. It throws us off. It frustrates us. It leads us to conclude that God has checked out and is no longer interested in keeping his promises, when in reality the detour is God keeping his promise. Just not using the means, methods, or map that we had in mind! 

Wasn’t that how the disciples on the way to Emmaus were seeing things? They recounted all of the details that had happened. “The things concerning Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet powerful in action and speech before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him. But we were hoping that he was the one who was about to redeem Israel. Besides all this, it’s the third day since these things happened. Moreover, some women from our group astounded us. They arrived early at the tomb, and when they didn’t find his body, they came and reported that they had seen a vision of angels who said he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they didn’t see him” (v.19-24). They had just captured everything that had happened, just as it was supposed to happen – as Jesus had said it would happen – but they concluded that something was wrong. Something was out of place. Something hadn’t played out the way it was supposed to. In fact, everything had played out just as it was supposed to, but they didn’t see it that way. God was in fact doing just what he has always done – carrying out his promise. Yet they drew the entirely wrong conclusion – that it wasn’t happening the way it was supposed to. 

Since Jesus knew better, it doesn’t surprise us to hear the response that he gives – “How foolish you are, and how slow to believe all that the prophets have spoken!” (v.25). As if Jesus was saying, “Guys, how are you missing that everything you just explained was like a movie that perfectly followed the script from beginning to end, not ad-libbing or changing things on the fly, but playing out according to the script God had revealed through his prophets from day 1? It’s happening just as it was written, yet you’re somehow befuddled by the reality of what it looks like. How can this be?”

Indeed, how can it be that we would ever conclude that the events in our life not playing out exactly as we expected must mean God isn’t keeping his promises? We can’t relate to that at all, can we… except on an almost daily basis! God is busy keeping his promises to his people day in and day out, yet as we track the way by which he chooses to do it, we conclude that God must be overlooking his promises instead of overseeing them, as he actually is. Take a brief waltz through the significant events in your life and make a mental list of how they played out. Did you get through school the way you planned to? Did you find your spouse the way you planned to? Did you come by your current job the way you planned to? Are you current living where you planned to? Not too much of our lives plays out the way we planned, but our altered plans are not God’s altered promises – they are rather the means by which he was carrying out his promises all along!

Now it’s one thing to look back and see this play out in hindsight, but it’s not so easy when we’re in the middle of it. It doesn’t look like God is keeping his promises to provide when I’m in a season of unemployment. It doesn’t feel like God is keeping his promise of peace and unity in the middle of so much division. God promises that he’s always with us, but that’s hard to experience when those closest to me have abandoned or forgotten me.

Sometimes the issue in these cases is because God has just begun the detour in keeping his promise; other times it’s simply my disobedience. What I mean by disobedience is that we fail to act on the direction he provides that allows us to see him carry out his promise. He promises peace when we place our trust in him. But we don’t have peace because we don’t trust. He promises relief from anxiety when we cast our cares on him. But we’re anxious because don’t cast our cares on him. He promises freedom from bitterness and anger when we forgive. But we’re bitter and angry because we refuse to forgive. So our disobedience doubles the damage – it is not only sin against God, which is wretched enough in its own right, but on top of that it is also debilitating to us! It’s not that God isn’t keeping his promise; it’s that we rob him of the opportunity to do so by our disobedience! When God says “Do this” and we don’t, is it reasonable for us to expect the promised blessings he attached to that act of obedience? Not really!

The good news is that whether our struggle to see God keeping his promises is due to our impatience with the detour he has chosen to take, or because of our disobedience, the solution to both is found in the same place. How did Jesus help the disciples see that God was simply carrying out his promises? He explained the Scriptures to them. “‘Wasn’t it necessary for the Messiah to suffer these things and enter into his glory?’ Then beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted for them the things concerning himself in all the Scriptures” (v.26-27). Jesus, the incarnate God, the One who breathed everything into existence, who has no beginning and no end, is right there with the two disciples, and how does he open their eyes? He uses the Bible. Jesus used the Bible to unfold for the two exactly how God was overseeing – not overlooking – his promises. Jesus’ go-to was the Word of God. And that in-depth search of the Scriptures pointed them more clearly to Jesus. The Word was how they saw God keeping his promises.

So detour or disobedience – it doesn’t matter; the Word will always help us see that God keeps his promises. It will always be the necessary first step in reminding us of this because it is always the first step in finding forgiveness. Why do we begin every service with confession and absolution? Because that comes from the Word, where alone and more than anything else we find the forgiveness we need. Oh, the day we stop sinning we won’t need to hear that assurance of forgiveness again… but I don’t see that happening anytime soon. So forgiveness is the first aid we need most for our disobedience and our doubts about God keeping his promises. 

And it is the same Word that records for us promise after promise that God has made and delivered. Hang on to this worship folder just for the Lessons, if nothing else. Keep it accessible so that when you next question God’s promise-keeping, you can go back to these Scriptures and be reminded that the issue is NEVER going to be one of God’s failed promises. That will never happen. But we need to be reminded of that truth again and again. We need to hear the refrain in our heads. We need to meditate in our minds over they myriad ways God has always kept his promises. Promise-keeping is what he does. He’s the best in the business – no one else even comes close to delivering on promises the way God does! His Word is his diary of kept promises for you.

And is there greater proof of those kept promises than the vacant tomb? Talk about unexpected twists and great endings! It appeared as if the credits were ready to roll when he breathed his last on Good Friday, but in the greatest ending ever, he didn’t stay dead! Let Jesus’ resurrection help us see that God keeps his promises. And let it help us see that it really isn’t the end of the story, but our lives are a continuation of God’s perfect promise-keeping record. We hold on to that until this chapter of the story concludes and the final twist takes place: Jesus returns and fulfill his final promise. Come, Lord Jesus!

“Help Me See… that I have a Good Shepherd”

(John 10:11-18)

Last Sunday we were reminded of our purpose to feed, care, and follow. Today we see what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that care as we focus on the picture of our Risen Savior as our Good Shepherd. That picture may be one of the most well-loved images of our Savior. It’s virtually impossible to consider this picture of Jesus without reflecting on Psalm 23 and this chapter of John’s Gospel. There is no shortage of hymns that pair these pictures of our Good Shepherd with song. The Church has highlighted it for centuries and for generation after generation. If you have a picture of Jesus up in your home, it is as likely to depict Jesus as the Good Shepherd as any other image. Inside our sanctuary we have three beautiful stained glass pieces above the cross that display our Good Shepherd, a Shepherd who cares about his sheep.

Receiving care gets mixed reviews from us. On the one hand, one of the big fears that adults express is the fear of aging and requiring 24/7 care from family members or friends. We don’t want to be a burden to others. On the other hand, who doesn’t appreciate being on the receiving end of care as we recall fond memories of mom or dad taking care of us when we were sick at home? We are grateful for a spouse who goes above and beyond to show us care. When deployed or away at college, care packages from loved ones mean the world. We appreciate receiving care.     

But after this one Sunday of the year when we focus on the Good Shepherd, what is the real significance of this picture in our lives? What does it really matter that Jesus is our Good Shepherd? Who cares? Who cares when my marriage is imploding, when my spouse’s or my own repeated wrongs have brought our house to ruin – what good is a Good Shepherd then? Who cares when my own habitual sin keeps haunting me and the guilt is overwhelming – what good is a Good Shepherd then? Who cares when my wayward kids no longer listen and I am afraid not only of losing them, but their wandering from the faith – what good is a Good Shepherd then? Who cares about this Sunday School picture of a Good Shepherd – what real difference does it make when I have real problems that need real solutions? Who cares?

Well, he does. He cares. That’s just it. The Good Shepherd cares. Your Good Shepherd cares. Do you imagine that the Lord had no good reason in mind for weaving the imagery of himself as a shepherd throughout Scripture? Or do you envision the Triune God brainstorming with himself trying to come up with some filler for his Holy Word and after they sorted through all of the other suggestions, the picture of a shepherd was the best they could do and so they settled on that one? No, there is a reason the Lord wanted this picture of a shepherd to be one of the many ways we understand our relationship with him. Because he wants us to know how much he cares. Jesus even set up that contrast in verse 13 by highlighting how different the shepherd is from the hired hand. “The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep” (v.13). Jesus cares, and he wants you to know he cares about you, the way a shepherd cares about every single sheep in his flock. 

He cares because you are his. Watch children interact with each other when one of their belongings is involved. Show and tell is an opportunity to showcase a favorite item or toy. Kids are thrilled to be able to show other children something of theirs that means a lot to them. However, what happens later on when another child wants to explore or play with that show-and-tell item? “No. You can’t. It’s mine.” A teacher or parent trying to referee a similar issue between siblings points out that it’s OK to let someone else enjoy playing with the item for a little bit, but the owner of said toy refuses. Why? “It’s mine.” There isn’t often a much more profound answer than that: “It’s special to me. It’s mine.”

Taken in a positive way, the Good Shepherd feels the same way about you, his sheep. “It’s mine. You’re mine. You belong to me, and no one else may have you.” The Good Shepherd owns the sheep. He bought and paid for every sheep of his flock, unlike the hired hand, as Jesus pointed out: “The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep” (v.12a). Implied is that the Good Shepherd does own the sheep, and Jesus doesn’t leave any doubt as to the price he paid to own the sheep. Five times in these verses he refers back to the price paid for the sheep, starting in verse eleven: “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” The sheep – you! – belong to the Good Shepherd because he paid the highest price ever for anything that has ever been purchased: he paid with his life. 

No one makes a sacrifice for something they don’t care about or value. Think about how many appeals you receive on a regular basis, how many causes come asking for support. There’s the call from the police or fire representative asking if they can count on your support. There’s mailings from ministries and organizations. There’s youth sports teams and community causes, stations, channels, here, there, and everywhere. While I’m guessing you probably don’t say yes to all of them, there are some that are dear to you, so you support them with your time and/or money. 

But for which of them would you be willing to give your life? What would that take? How precious, how valuable, how dear to you would something have to be for you to give your life? I imagine there may not be a cause for which you’d be willing to die, but there might be a person or two who mean that much to you that you would give your life. 

But now let’s take that a step further. They probably don’t hate you and treat you like dirt. They probably don’t trash you and disrespect you and want nothing to do with you. But those are exactly the types for whom the Good Shepherd laid down his life.

You, are exactly that type. I, am exactly that type. We wanted nothing to do with the Good Shepherd. We prefer to wander off on our own, without being confined or corrected, regardless of the danger lurking around every corner. But the Good Shepherd, Jesus, cared too much to leave you to your own destruction. So he died. He cared that much – to die so that you could live. So whatever anyone might say about Jesus, let it never be that he didn’t care. No one ever has nor ever will care about you as much as Jesus. He laid down his life to quiet any who might say otherwise.

Dear friends, news gets better: the Good Shepherd doesn’t just care for you; he knows you. “I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me–just as the Father knows me and I know the Father” (v.14-15). Does that comfort you… or terrify you? No one knows you better than Jesus. Yes, it means what you think you have hidden from others, you cannot hide from him. He knows. He knows your past. He knows about last month, last week, last night. He knows it all. Your sin is not hidden from him. You cannot hide it from him. Ever.

But. Still. He. Stays. Do you understand? He knows you, he knows the worst that you could ever do, and still has not abandoned you. And will not ever abandon you. How refreshingly unlike so many relationships we’re used to! He knows us at our worst. And still the Good Shepherd stays. In our Twitter-dredging, social-media-scrutinizing, history-hacking, cancel culture society that tirelessly tries to dig up even the slightest scoop of dirt on everyone and anyone, the Good Shepherd already knows it all. You don’t need to be afraid that he’ll uncover your shady past – he already knows! And still he stays. The Good Shepherd knows you. He knows his sheep. And he will not abandon them. He will not abandon you.

Think about it: if death itself didn’t mean he was deserting you, then what possibly would? He didn’t even let death keep him from a relationship with you, but the Good Shepherd who laid down his life “took it up again,” just as he said he would. You mean too much to him. He cares too much. He knows you and loves you too much to turn from you. His resurrection helps us to see that. It helps us to see that he isn’t just the Good Shepherd, but he’s my Good Shepherd, and that’s when our relationship with him deepens.

I get the privilege of pointing you to your Good Shepherd every Sunday. Do you know what drives me to do that? Do you know why there is nothing that I will ever experience that will be more exciting, more delightful, than seeing sheep come to faith in their Good Shepherd? Do you know why that is the best thing ever? It’s because he’s my Good Shepherd first. He’s mine. And when that clicks for us, that we aren’t just spinning our wheels week in and week out talking about some general God or superficial Savior or a Good Shepherd, but instead my God, my Savior, and my Good Shepherd, then it sinks in. Then that relationship deepens. Then it means something altogether more to know that my Good Shepherd cares for me and knows me. Then I want more than anything else for other sheep to see that their Good Shepherd cares for them and knows them, too.