The Sanctification of Suffering

A Sermon on Matthew 11:2-15 for the Third Sunday in Advent, Series A, 2019

Grace, mercy, and peace be to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Things had been going so well up until this point for John the Baptist. He had proclaimed the Word of God faithfully. All Judea came out into the wilderness to hear him. They were baptized in the Jordan River for repentance. He had pointed out the Christ. All these good things had been happening. But one day, in His faithful proclamation, he had told the wrong guy to repent. Herod Antipas, son of Herod the Great, had taken his brother’s wife as his own. And John told him to that he needed to turn from this evil. Neither Herod nor Herodias listened. So now, he sat imprisoned, with his life hanging in the balance every day.

This was an enormous change. From top of the world to rock bottom in a single minute. Why did events turn so South? What had John done wrong? Why was he now suffering? These are the same questions we ask when it happens to us. Because we too have gone from one day having everything just the way we had always hoped to careening out of control. Some of us have gone through it, and are okay where we’re at. Some of us are still stuck down there. And all of us will likely have another round sooner or later. And when it happens, we’re human beings. We wonder why. Why did God let this happen? What did we do wrong? And where is He now?

And John the Baptist is a human being, just like us. I’m sure he had to wonder too. That’s not a lack of faith on John’s part. That’s what faith does. Because throughout the Old Testament, the question of where Yahweh is constantly comes up. As Moses is on Mt. Sinai, the people wonder where the Lord is, so make an idol to stand in His place. After entering the promised land, there were generations where the Canaanites and Philistines took over, and the people wondered where the Lord went.

Job wondered aloud if the Lord had remembered him at all. David, on the run from King Saul, wondered in the Lord had abandoned him to his enemies. The book of Lamentations is a sobering cry asking the Lord to remember His people. After the Exile, the people in Ezra and Nehemiah’s day wondered if the Lord was ever going to return. the cry for the Lord to return to His people has resounded by the faithful throughout history. And we are no exception. We cry out, because when we suffer, we want the Lord to come and deliver us from it.

I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the line, we started believing something that had never been the case before. We started believing that we didn’t have the right to complain to the Lord. That we shouldn’t tell God that it stinks when we hurt. We got the idea that if we did, then we didn’t trust in Him enough. That it was a sin. And not without cause. The Israelites in the desert grumbled at their situation. And that was a problem. But there was a difference. They grumbled at the gifts the Lord gave them, not because they were hurting. They were sick of miracle bread from heaven showing up without their work six days a week. Sick of being in the presence of God out in the wilderness, where their clothes did not wear out, nor did their feet swell for forty years. The Lord chastises those who complain about the good things He gives. But He hears those who cry out in pain. He hears those who hurt. He hears those who grieve. He hears those who suffer. He hears you. 

Well, that’s fine to say and all. But what’s the Lord going to do about it? And this is what trips us up the most. We are very convinced that the best thing that could possibly happen is that our suffering would end. And if it doesn’t, we think there’s something wrong. But experience alone should tell us that’s not necessarily the case. Setting a broken leg hurts more in that moment than leaving it apart. Recovering from surgery hurts more in the time after more than the pain before. Admitting that you were wrong, and that you hurt someone is far more painful than blaming them for feeling hurt.  But in each one of those cases, it was the right thing to do. 

Where is the Lord in all of that? Listen to what Jesus says to John’s disciples. “[T]he blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them.” It was because they were blind, lame, leprous, deaf, dead, and poor that they were brought to Jesus in the first place. It was because they suffered these things that Jesus was there. And through that, they believed. They were given Christ.

There’s an even better reason to not believe that suffering is a sign that the Lord isn’t there. And that’s because Jesus suffered. Since Jesus suffered, not all suffering is evil. Granted, we don’t like any of it. And yes, we’re looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth in which all suffering has ceased. We’re looking forward to a resurrection of our bodies without sin. But Jesus suffered while remaining sinless. Jesus suffered, and made some suffering holy. Not the suffering because of your own sin. But the suffering on account of Christ. It is sanctified. It is good. That is why St. Paul says in Romans that “we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” And Christ’s suffering on the cross is the very center of our hope.

Now, even in this kind of suffering we cry out. We lament. We go to the Lord in our tears. For Jesus Christ did the very same. “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” That’s the cry Jesus gave to us. That’s the cry that asks, “Where are you, Lord?” Jesus gave it to David to cry in His need, and it was written down for us as Psalm 22. It was cried out by the blind, lame, leprous, deaf, dead, and poor that Jesus came to be with. Jesus cries it out again, so that you can know that you can use it too. 

He gave us those words to ask, so that He could answer them by saying, “I’m right here. I’m with you in your pain. I’m with you in your grief. I’m with you in your sadness. You can find Me in the Word of Absolution,” says the Lord. “I’m the one who speaks the forgiveness of sins through my servant. You can find Me in the water of your Baptism. I’m the one who washes you, and makes you clean. You can find Me in the bread and wine of My supper. I give you My own body, and My own blood to eat and to drink.” Those are gifts for today. And we also have the gifts which we have a sure and certain hope for in the future. Resurrection from the dead. A new heaven and new earth. Eternity in the presence of the Lord. And we look forward to those too. 

But like John the Baptist then, we still have some enduring to do. We have some suffering to get through. And one day, it will cost us all our lives. But remember who suffers with you. Who sanctified your suffering and made it holy. Because suffering is not a sign of His absence, it’s a sign of His presence. And that He is working faith in your heart. Faith strong enough to cry out to Him who hears. To Him who has done something about it already by His cross. To Him who raises from the dead. To Jesus Christ our Lord. 

Let us pray. Almighty Father, this world hurts, and we don’t like it. Each of us has our own pain, our own suffering. Therefore, we ask as Jesus asked at the garden of Gethsemane. If it is within your will, please take it away. If it is for us to endure, send Your Holy Spirit to give us the strength to withstand it. And whatever the outcome, always be present, renewing our hope of the resurrection that Your Son has accomplished on our behalf. Through Jesus Christ, Your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

The Powerful Word Given through John

A Sermon on Matthew 3:1-12 for the Second Sunday in Advent, Series A, 2019

Grace, mercy, and peace be to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. For most, if not all of our lives, the church has had a problem. Somewhere in the 1950’s, church attendance in the United States hit its peak. It’s been declining ever since. Now, the decline has been slow. Only a few people noticed in the 60’s. But by the 70’s books were starting to come out about how to grow your own congregation. For some congregations, it worked. For others, it didn’t. A few books sold. Some effort was put forth. But over all, the decline continued. So in the 80’s, more books were written. More aggressive ideas put forward. And by golly, if you were a good enough salesman for Jesus, you could make a dent in one place. But the even better salesmen sold the books on how instead. And the decline continued.

Decade after decade, we were given more models. Be like a business. Be like the world. Give the people what they want. If you build it, they will come. The measure of success was butts in the pews. And as long as you had those, the institution that we call the church would be protected. It would survive. After all, that’s what worked for the world. Why shouldn’t it work here? But it didn’t. The decline continued.

After fifty, sixty years, how many billions of dollars have been consumed? How many lifetimes have been spent? Each congregation desperate to try that new thing to stop the loss. Each congregation sacrificing everything to keep their building full. And the church is still declining. And those building that seem to be full? They get their butts from the congregations that can’t keep their doors open any longer. But the dirty little secret is that their back door is as big as their front. They leave as quick as they come in. Only for those that leave there, they don’t go anywhere else. In the years we’ve spend trying to save the church by our works, we’ve actually destroyed it instead. 

John the Baptist would never be confused for an evangelist in our time. For one thing, he was not dressed in the finest clothing. He did not look sharp standing before everyone. Wearing camel’s hair and leather, while living off of locusts and honey makes you look just the lunatic in the first century as the twenty-first. 

Another thing is that he does a terrible job of making the message appealing. Repent, you sinners! You brood of vipers! And bear fruit in keeping with repentance. Don’t presume hold onto your lineage. The axe is already at the root of that tree. And it is heading towards the fire. So are you if you don’t shape up. The Christ has the fires of hell for the chaff that do not repent. For God is able to raise up from the stones children for Abraham, if you wont be them.

That’s the pretty much the opposite of what we’re told to do in all the books for sale today. We’re told that we have to be friendly. We have to be winsome. We have to tell people what they want to hear. We have to have available what people want to do. And yet, all Judea came out to be baptized by John. Even the Pharisees and Sadducees. They confessed their sins. And they were baptized for forgiveness. 

Does this justify us trying anything, so long as it works? Do we need to now throw caution to the wind, and work five times harder than before, just because something needs done? Not at all. The people didn’t come because of John the Baptist. They came because John proclaimed the Word of the Lord. And that Word, as Paul says in Romans, is the power of God unto salvation. It created light. It created the world. It created faith in you. And it will create faith in others. Our Lord has never called us to be successful. He has only called us to be faithful, and let Him take care of the rest. 

So what do we do? We look around and realize that we can’t sustain ourselves like this. So, we want to do something. As long as that something sounds like what we want it to. We want a program to make it easy. And we want someone else to do it. That’s not the Lord’s Church. For our Lord hasn’t called you to save His Church. He  already did that. And He did it without you. Because the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. That creative Word was born in Bethlehem. Grew up in Nazareth. Came to Jerusalem. Suffered and died on a cross as the sacrifice for your sin. And rose on the third day from the dead. It is not up to you to save the Church. Christ Jesus has already accomplished that. It is finished. And that’s not your job.

But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing for you to do. Remember, He has called you to be faithful, not successful. Therefore, Hold fast to the word of God. Don’t give it up. Don’t surrender it. Instead, gladly hear and learn it. You’re here today in Church. Good. That’s where Jesus generously gives what He sacrificed on that cross to you. Hold on to those promises. Be eager to receive them over and over again.

You want to grow the Church? Make receiving those gifts of God your priority. Being here in Church is a good start. But don’t stop there. Make Bible Study a priority. There are times listed on the back of your bulletin. Make the time to go to one of those. Or two. Be in the Word of God, even if you can’t make any. Because in that Word, our Lord forgives your sins. And it’s that same forgiveness that brought the people miles out into the wilderness to see John. It’s what brings people here. Jesus Christ forgiving sins grows the Church, both in number, and in faithfulness. And even if we don’t always see one, we still have the other. And the faithfulness that Christ gives to you through His Word shines as a light to the world.

There is no better evangelism program. No better stewardship program. No better youth program. No better outreach program. No better training program than receiving what Jesus gives in Word and Sacrament. That’s where all the power is. It’s not in you or me. It’s not in our time, talent, or treasure. It’s not in our efforts or works. It is all where Jesus has always promised to be for you, and for all. And all our improvements have only ever gotten in the way. 

John the Baptist preached the Word of God. And people believed. John the Baptist baptized for the forgiveness of sins. And people believed. John the Baptist pointed to the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. And people believed. That’s it. He simply remained faithful to Christ’s promise. Delivered Christ’s gifts. And the Word of the Lord did all the rest. 

So here’s His Word. It’s for you. And there is nothing more important in all the world. Nothing nearly as powerful. Nothing nearly as universe-changing as the good news that Jesus died and rose for your sake. Because that Word has shattered the gates of Hell itself, to set us free from our well-earned fate. That Word became flesh and dwelt among us. That Word has sacrificed all for you. And Has won the victory forever. 

Let us pray. Almighty Father, Your Word is powerful beyond comprehension. Create in us a love for that Word, so that we are glad to hear and learn it. Tell us again, create in us again, the salvation accomplished by the death and resurrection of Your Son Jesus Christ. And by that Word, bring us to an everlasting home in the age to come. Through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence

An Advent Midweek sermon on Luke 1:5-25, The Announcement of the Birth of John to Zechariah.

Grace, mercy, and peace be to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It had been five hundred years since the temple was rebuilt under Ezra and Nehemiah. Five hundred years since the Persians conquered the Babylonians and set the Jews free. Five hundred years where the sacrificial system set up in Exodus and Leviticus was able to again be practiced the way the Lord had given them. True, they did live under Persian rule, then Mede rule, then Greek rule, and now Roman rule. Each had their bumps and bruises. But over time, the worship of the Lord remained relatively the same. 

This is where Zechariah is. A priest at the temple. Carrying out the duties of sacrificing the animals brought by the people. By this time, there were so many priests, that Zechariah was one among thousands. Twice per day, a priest was chosen to enter the holy place, just outside the holy of holies, and make the daily sacrifices. Only, with this many priests, it was likely that you would only enter there once in your lifetime. Zechariah had been waiting all his life, and now he was an old man. Today was the one time he would be able to go in. The one time he would get to be standing this close to the presence of God.

So in came Zechariah and stood before the altar of incense, with the table of show bread to his right, and the golden lampstand with seven lamps to the left. He brought in incense, after the daily lamb had been slaughtered and burnt on the bronze altar outside. And set it on the incense altar in order to burn it. That incense completed the twice daily sacrifice

Zechariah placed lit incense on the altar order to offer a pleasing aroma in the presence of the Lord. He would hear the prayers of all those outside, as they waited for Him to perform his priestly duty. This is the way it had gone every day the people of God were able and willing since even the tabernacle that Moses used. Sometimes, the people fell away from the faith. Sometimes invaders kept the priests from doing their jobs. And of course, for eighty years, after Babylon, the temple had sat in ruins. But more often than not, and when faith held to the promises of the Lord, this was what every day looked like for one priest in the morning, and one priest in the evening.

But Zechariah had his own issues. He had no children. And in that society, that was a major problem. Zechariah was a priest, so most of his colleagues would have been Sadducees. And Sadducees didn’t believe in the resurrection. Only that life would continue in the raising up of children. So without them, not only was Zechariah left with the impression that he  and his wife Elizabeth were facing death, they were facing death without hope.  These things also were weighing on Zechariah’s heart as he sat with a meal in front of him, incense filling the holy place. Just him and the Lord.

However, Zechariah was not alone. On the right side of the Altar of incense, an angel of the Lord appeared. From the right hand of God came a messenger. A message. A word. Gabriel said to Zechariah, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard, and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John. And you will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great before the Lord.” 

This wasn’t the first the the Lord had made a promise like this. The Lord had told Abraham the same thing three times. From Genesis fifteen, when Abraham was worried that his successor would come from the house of Eliezer from Damascus, the Lord said, “This man shall not be your heir; your very own son shall be your heir.” Abraham believed, and it was counted to him as righteousness. 

But following that belief, Abraham asked the very same question Zechariah asked. “How shall I know this?” And in Genesis 15, the Lord made a sacrifice Himself. He literally “cut a covenant,” by walking between the split animals. And by that promise, Abraham had something to hope in. Zechariah, hearing a similar proclamation, asked the same thing. Which may sound reasonable. But already being a child of Abraham, he still had the covenant, the promise made to Abraham. A promise being fulfilled by his very standing there that day. Likewise, a sacrifice had already been made. It was sitting on the incense altar, right next to them. Abraham had asked out of faith, Zechariah asked out of despair. Abraham believed, Zechariah did not believe that the previous promises were enough. 

Let all mortal flesh keep silence. And with fear and trembling stand. Ponder nothing earthly minded. For with blessing in His hand, Christ our Lord to earth, descending, comes our homage to demand. Zechariah was left dumbstruck, literally. He would not speak again until everything the angel had spoken came to pass. But that puts us in quite a dilemma ourselves. For we too come before the altar of the Lord, far more regularly than Zechariah did. We too have the sacrifice given to us in the holy place. We too are priests, a royal priesthood of all believers. And yet, when given the promises of the Lord, we also wonder if they’re really enough or not.

Yes, Jesus has promised that our sins have been forgiven. Yes, Jesus has promised that His resurrection will be our resurrection. And yes He sealed that promise by dying and rising Himself as our sacrifice. But it would sure be nice if He would give us one more thing to hold onto above and beyond what He already has. 

We ask, because we are like Zechariah. We see today, and know that there’s nothing we can do alone to fix it. We can’t make the numbers work. We can’t cure the cancer. We can’t make our friends and family believe. We can’t overcome death. Nor can we overcome anything else. And those things beat us down. Those things drown us. And since they’re immediately in front of us, it’s what we see. Just like Zechariah’s fear of death without children, we too are afraid. Afraid that the promises of God aren’t already enough.

So what does the Lord have to say to us? By His angel, by His messenger, by His Word, He points us back to that same promise made before. For Zechariah it is for one who will make the way ready for the original promise. One who will proclaim the coming Christ. It happens to be Zechariah’s son. But even if it weren’t, the promised Messiah would be for him also, even in his old age without children.

The hope is in the promise given beforehand that we don’t always hold onto. The hope we have is found in the one who fulfilled what the angel said. The hope is Jesus Christ Himself. That God would descend from on high. Would take on our human flesh. Would be born in lowly estate. Would live a life exactly like ours. Would suffer on our behalf. Would be crucified, die, and would be buried. And on the third day, would rise from the dead, all for our sake. And that’s what He did.

Our hope has already been fulfilled on Good Friday and Easter Sunday. And by that great work that Jesus has done, all our fears have an answer. Jesus has it on His shoulders. Jesus has it in His hands. Jesus has it on the cross, in the grave, and risen to life again. And Jesus generously gives that answer to us every time we ask. Every time we gather for worship. Every time we hear the forgiveness of our sins. Every time we remember our baptism. Every time we receive His body and His blood. There is our answer.

Our fears aren’t silenced because we have them. Our fears are silenced by Christ dying and rising for us. There’s our sign. There’s our promise. There’s our answer. Because no other answer is good enough. Nothing else saves. That’s what Elizabeth looked forward to, when at the end of our reading she says, “Thus the Lord has done for me in the days when he looked on me, to take away my reproach among people.” It’s not just that she has a child. It’s that this child will go forth in the name of the Lord and prepare His way. To give knowledge of salvation to His people in the forgiveness of their sins. 

And that he would. Saying to the crowds, gathered around him to be baptized in the Jordan River, “I baptize you with water for repentance, but he who is coming after me is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” And thus the promise made by the angel came to pass. And that promise is for you too. Thanks be to God. 

(edit: I mistakenly misread Numbers 28, and did not realize that the daily sacrifice was a burnt offering. The text has since been adjusted to reflect this.)