Redeemer

(Galatians 4:4-7)

While a sermon isn’t typically the place to look for hot stock trading tips, this morning you’re in for a treat. Years ago you might recall a video rental chain by the name of Blockbuster. There was a new service entering the movie rental industry that allowed you to go online to choose which movies you wanted to rent, and this company would mail the DVDs directly to your home. This company was called Netflix. Its growing success was threatening Blockbuster’s business model, causing Blockbuster’s stock price to decline significantly as a result. But, since Blockbuster was starting to get on board with the mailing model and already had 1,000s of physical locations from which to operate, I jumped on the stock, convinced it would be a matter of time before it caught up and jumped back to the top in the industry. 

I was wrong. Would you care to know how much each share of Blockbuster is worth today? About 1/10 of a cent. It’s worthless. It is of no value whatsoever. Be sure to follow me for more hot stock tips! 

Share prices of stocks go up and down in value. In fact, the value of a thing can fluctuate, can’t it, as its value is really determined by how much someone thinks it is worth. This morning as we continue our What Child Is This? series, in addition to the answer Isaiah provides us with on Christmas Eve, that this Child is the Prince of Peace, we also today see that he is our Redeemer. Through this title, we see how valuable we are to God because of the worth he attaches to us.   

Most of us are familiar enough with the term redeemer. We will talk about a person needing to redeem himself. When we speak of it in this sense the implication is that someone has carried out some wrongdoing in general or some damage to a relationship with another individual. When sufficient effort is then made to remedy the situation or reconcile with the other individual, we speak of that person having redeemed himself. So there is a sense of righting a wrong when it comes to the idea of a redeemer. 

Now that may work in a court of human law or public opinion, but there is a courtroom where no man can redeem himself or another: God’s. The psalmist writes, “No one can redeem the life of another or give to God a ransom for them – the ransom for life is costly, no payment is ever enough” (49:7-8). Suppose I borrowed $10,000 from you to buy up all that Blockbuster stock. Now, years later, you ask for your money back. For obvious reasons, I don’t have the money, but offer to pay you back in shares of Blockbuster. Would you accept? Of course not! It’s not worth anything! No lender would accept payment in the form of the same worthless investment that just lost you a significant investment! So neither can we who have by our own sin made ourselves worthless, pay back anything to God! The very thing that put us into the position of needed to be redeemed – sin – is what taints us so much that we can never offer anything of ourselves of value to redeem ourselves before God!

But boy do we still try! We have solutions for trying to redeem ourselves. Some religions emphasize the ongoing effort to redeem ourselves by becoming better, by being good people. Sounds good enough, but it ignores the real issue that needs redeeming: sin.

An increasingly popular approach in our age of secularism is to deny God and any need for redemption at all, but this, too, falls short. Sin is real. It separates. Ignoring it, calling it something else, pretending there is no God who takes issue with it, these offer no redemption.

So Paul helps us understand precisely why God came into our world bearing a body. “But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship” (Galatians 4:4-5). First, let’s talk timing. Paul says “when the time had fully come.” What he means is that in God’s governing over all things, he had determined the exact time for the promised Savior to arrive on earth. One can look at the Roman world at the time and see how ideal it was for Jesus to be born. The Roman Empire was enjoying a season of peace from war. A universal language was used, making communication much more effective. The Roman system of roads made places far more accessible for travel. It was an ideal time.

Yet, we might think that today would be much more suitable. After all, consider all of the technological advancements. Think of all the ways we could communicate the birth of Jesus if he had been born in 2021. Seems like now, not 2,000 years ago, would have been a better time, doesn’t it? 

Ironically, one could also argue that all of the reasons for now being a better time could also be used to argue against it. How well would the message be received in an age when we are inundated with more information in a month than people of the past were in a lifetime? And the technology – a blessing, for sure, in so many ways… and yet a constant distraction at the same time. Does technology serve us or enslave us? So maybe Paul had it right when under divine inspiration he argued that God had determined the best time for the Redeemer to enter our world. And how would he carry this out? Why did it have to be done the way it was done? 

If a person is to be rightly rescued – redeemed – then it stands to reason that he must be rescued from the actual threat facing him. You don’t save a drowning person by running to the hospital to grab a stretcher. You don’t treat a broken bone with a band-aid. No, for the solution to provide an actual cure, it has to address the real problem. What is the problem that we all needed solved? Make no mistake – the real threat is having to answer for our sin or suffer the consequences of a real hell.

To rescue those being crushed and condemned under the weight of the law, God – who by his holiness established the law in the first place! – bound himself to keeping it so that, placing it on his shoulders and flawlessly fulfilling it, he could keep it from crushing us with its eternal condemnation in hell. While by our disobedience we disqualified ourselves according to the law, Jesus was born to keep the law, so that by his obedience God’s expectation of perfection could be met. Since only man and not God himself who gave the law is bound to it, God became a man so that he could keep it. 

Imagine a youth claiming to be able to drive her whole life without ever breaking the speed limit. While that’s a bold claim to make, she has no way to prove it. She must first be of the legal age limit to drive, and then pass her test to get a license. Once she does those things, she could then set out to prove her claim by maintaining a perfect driving record. But until she is actually bound by the law, it’s not possible for her to keep it. So it is with God – to keep the law he had to first bind himself to it, so he was born into this world bearing a human body, so that he would be bound to the law.

Notice how Paul effortlessly slips into his next thought with the clear implication that Jesus did in fact keep the law. After explaining how it would happen so that we might be adopted as God’s sons and daughters, the verse that immediately follows point out that we are sons and daughters! Jesus did it! He succeeded in perfectly obeying the law, for we are now adopted sons and daughters, no longer slaves, but free heirs to receive the glorious riches of an eternal inheritance, along with all the treasure house of blessings lavished on us while here on earth in the meantime! Now we have that most intimate of relationships, being able to address the Father as “Abba,” akin to “daddy,” a relationship unique to father and child. Now the Son born in Bethlehem calls our hearts his home. 

Now we are worth something, for we have been redeemed. Jesus’ redemption is what has given us value. Apart from him we were worth nothing. We are by nature just like all the BOGOs and discount coupons for this store and that restaurant stashed in your drawer at home – worth nothing until actually redeemed! Until you actually show up, purchase something, and redeem the coupon for whatever discount it is, the coupon is worthless. It has to be redeemed to be of any value. 

So it is with us. Christmas means we are worth something, for that child, that Prince of Peace came into this world to be our Redeemer. And because he redeemed us with his own precious blood, we are worth something. How much, you ask? Considering no price can be attached to Jesus’ holy, innocent blood, and that that was the price paid for you and me, how valuable does that make us? If something of inestimable value was used to buy us back, to redeem us, then how valuable are we – priceless! And that is just how God sees us. For he would not have offered up his only Son as the redemption price for our very souls if he did not treasure us beyond measure! 

What Child is This? He is our Redeemer. Because we have been redeemed, we are sons and daughters who are God’s own heirs, standing ready to receive his greatest blessings both now and for eternity. What other gift that you unwrapped this year even begins to compare to that!?! Merry Christmas!

He Humbled Himself

(Luke 19:28-40)

What does your to-do list look like this year? Christmas gift budget. Send a letter or cards. Schedule gatherings. Finalize travel plans. Decorate the Christmas tree. Trim the palm branches for display… 

Wait, palm branches? Well, based on our verses from Luke for today that would seem to be appropriate. Even though Luke doesn’t specifically mention them in his account from our Gospel this morning, we can hardly reflect on the Palm Sunday account of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem without thought of palm branches. But what do palm branches have to do with Christmas, or to be more liturgically correct, the season of Advent, which begins today?

Actually, more than you might think. The season of Advent, after all, isn’t merely the precursor or warm-up act to get us ready for Christmas. Rather, its focus on preparation and readiness includes the bigger picture of all the ways Jesus came to us, comes to us, and will come again. God’s people had been waiting thousands of years for Christ to be born. And what happened after that? They waited some more. They waited for thirty more years to discover what his coming to earth really meant, what it was all about. Even on the day of our text, when Jesus made his final grand entrance into Jerusalem amidst all the fanfare, the crowds – and even the disciple themselves – didn’t fully comprehend what it was all going to amount to.

That wouldn’t be revealed until the end of the week. Then it became clear. The cross. Not Pilate’s palace. Not one earthly empire. Not an earthly king’s crown. The cross. That’s why he came. To die. When we fail to connect Christmas wreaths with palm branches, when our celebration of Christmas is divorced from his Good Friday sacrifice, we open the door to a rather secular celebration of Christmas. We are more inclined to take a page out of the world’s celebration of Christmas rather than a Christian celebration, which is keenly aware that the real wonder of Christmas isn’t found in movie miracles, but in the Gift who came to give Himself as the perfect sacrifice for sin. Keep Christmas connected to that and this year will not only meet, but exceed, your expectations.

Speaking of which, what are your expectations? Even as we’re still working on clearing out the Thanksgiving leftovers, our focus shifts to the holidays and the preparations and expectations. We recognize that this year will differ from the last regarding our preparations and expectations. But I wonder something: do we take the time to reflect and consider exactly what our expectations are each year? Or do we just rush from one thing on the schedule to the next, as if our next month is already determined for us, as if this time of year is filled with obligations and we don’t have a say in how we’re going to prioritize what matters to us?

That’s just it. You do have a say. No one is forcing you to get swept up in commercialism. You don’t have to buy the lie that the world knows better how to prepare for and celebrate this time of year than Christ’s church does. There’s no need for any FOMO in deliberately emphasizing the spiritual over the secular. Tempering those expectations and aligning them with God and his Word is really what this series is about. And this morning, it starts with Jesus setting the tone as he humbled himself.

Have you ever met a celebrity or famous individual? Some of us have probably met multiple famous or prominent people. If I asked you which experience was the most memorable, why would you pick the one that you did? Might it be that the one that stands out to you is the one who seemed to you to be the most down-to-earth? The one who didn’t leave you feeling as if you were somehow beneath them or inferior, but that they were just another person like you? The one who was… humble? It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it, that the people we are often enamored with or think so highly of are more likely to leave an impression on us by how much like us they really are? We may think the world of them, but your interaction with them made you feel as if you were just as important in their eyes as they were in yours.

This morning we begin our Advent focus under the theme, Humble Expectations, and we begin the series looking at how Jesus humbled himself for us. Unlike a down-to-earth celebrity, however, Jesus had a different reason for humbling himself: your salvation. Think of how God appeared to his people in the Old Testament accounts and what accompanied his appearing – terror, fear, dread – and rightfully so! A holy, righteous God who alone sets the standard of right and wrong, who determines mankind’s moral compass, is not one before whom sinners can stand! If God and men were ever to have the eternal relationship he craved, it could never be on the basis of our rising up to his level to meet him. No, it had to be God who humbled himself to our level, that through his work we might be taken up to him. Drawn to him versus driven from him. The difference is he humbled himself.

As he humbly entered Jerusalem, it wasn’t Jesus who made all the fuss; it was the crowds, and their excitement was all based on expectations. Jesus wasn’t the one who needed to ramp up the public relations efforts when he came into Jerusalem. The only directions he gave were to secure the foal of a donkey so that Scripture could be fulfilled. The rest of the fanfare was not of his making – it was the peoples’. It was the crowds shouting, the people placing cloaks before him and waving palms. The fanfare was not of Jesus’ making – he didn’t pay to pull in crowds from out of town to serve as his entourage. It was the crowds who ramped up their efforts to make the event such a big deal.

Don’t we often feel the need to do the same with Christmas? We go big with everything, as if Jesus needs us to make Christmas a bigger deal than he already did by his flesh and bone birth into our world, taking on the human body he needed to serve in humble obedience and so that body born on Christmas could experience death in our place. Was that not enough? Does he need the flashiest front yard decked out with a display that will be the envy of all the neighbors? Does he need the gifts we exchange to be bigger and better than the past – especially after last year’s limitations, so much so that we also find our credit card debt bigger as well? Does he need us to deck the halls to make Christmas matter?

You know what I enjoyed about our celebration of Christmas last year? We were forced to scale back. Our gatherings were limited, our celebration in general was rather muted. Because when all the other stuff was stripped away, all we were left with was… Jesus. As it should be every year. Pondering. Reflecting. Marveling. Quietly. Undistracted as the world whirls restlessly by. Just Jesus. Will this year be like that again, or… will we slip back into the older practice of thinking Christmas will be less if we can’t somehow make it more? Do the holidays (holy-days) need our help to make them matter? 

While it is not a part of our text this morning, in the very next verse, Luke records Jesus’ lament as he overlooks Jerusalem:

“As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it and said, “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes. The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God’s coming to you.” (vs. 41-44)

Would it be too much of a stretch to question if Jesus’ reaction to our Advent preparation and Christmas celebration would perhaps be similar? What led to his lament? The people of Jerusalem failed to see the peace he came to bring and they “did not recognize the time of God’s coming” (v.44). How many in the weeks that follow will not only completely miss out on the peace Jesus came to bring, but will actually add more distress in their misguided preparations and oversight of what this season brings? How many will remain oblivious to God’s coming the first time in Bethlehem at the birth of Christ, his ongoing coming to us in Word and sacrament, and his promise to come to us again on the last day? Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem before he rode into it to die could just as well be his lament over our world today in 2021! 

May it not be his lament over you. Set the tone for the season by revisiting – and repeating as necessary – the reason behind Christmas. He came to us. God came to us. It’s the only way it would work – for him to descend to us. Do not, as so many in Jerusalem did in Jesus’ day, keep hidden from your eyes the peace that he came to bring. Peace to slow down our frenetic pace. Peace as an anchor for our anxiety. Peace to cease to our stress. Peace to forgive and restore and refresh weary souls. And that peace is ours because he humbled himself. 

Humility marked Jesus’ first coming as the Babe of Bethlehem. Humility marked Jesus’ life. Humility marked this day as he entered Jerusalem. Humble Jesus, though, is not a picture of whimpering weakness. He did not humble himself because there was no other option or because he was somehow incapable of displaying his divine power or majesty for all the world to see. No, he humbled himself so that it might be possible for the Almighty God to come among his lost and fallen creation to rescue and redeem. He became less to save those who are the least: rebellious sinners like you and me. He became less and humbled himself to walk the path of perfect obedience upon which we daily stumble and fall. He became less and humbled himself so that an immortal God could die the death that all mortals deserve. He became less and humbled himself so that hell could be his to suffer and not ours. He became less and humbled himself so that his heaven could be our heaven.

What does your to-do list look like this year? Don’t overload it with stuff that doesn’t matter. Humble your expectations and direct your focus on the One who humbled himself for you.

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.