Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ (Ro 1:7). Amen.
I don’t know if you watch an infomercial from time to time. Perhaps you are surfing and you stop for the first few minutes to figure out what they are selling or find out what they are saying. After the initial push about a frying pan or opening pitch for facial cream for only four easy payments of something ending in $.99, you change the channel. Of course, there is still nothing on.
Before the half-hour presentation complete with promises of free shipping and fast delivery, there is usually some sort of disclaimer. It goes something like this: “The views expressed on this show do not necessarily reflect the opinions of this station.” There is no endorsement of the product, just airtime for their profit.
Jesus is not in the business of selling, but saving. He explains what that means for him and for us. He wants his thoughts to be ours. Think Jesus’ way about his future and about your future. We read from …
Mark 8:31-38
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ Jesus, who lived for us and for whom we live,
Any infomercial wants to convince you that you cannot live without a particular item. They want you to recognize how much better or easier life will be. So for 30 minutes, they share precise facts and personal testimonials. But you may or may not agree. You may have a different view.
Jesus contends that you cannot live without a certain person. Him. He is not just another way, but the only way to heaven (Jn 14:6). He wants us to appreciate that and agree with that.
Think Jesus’ Way
1. About his future (31-33)
2. About your future (34-38)
1. About his future (31-33)
“You are the Christ” (Mk 8:29). That was Peter’s confession. And it was correct. Jesus was not John the Baptist. Not Elijah. Not another prophet (Mk 8:28). He was bigger than that. The Christ. He was the One whom God sent to declare God’s Word to us as prophet, to die for us as priest, and to deliver us from our enemies as king. Jesus instructs us about what that means for him. Think Jesus’ way about his future.
It was crunch time in a way like a teacher the week before a semester ends coaches his students about what will be on the final. The cross was coming closer for Jesus. And Jesus wanted to be clear about that. This was not a time for parables. They had their place. But not now. “He spoke plainly” (Mk 8:32). There was openness as well as honesty—words flowing freely. And he didn’t just tell. He taught (Jn 8:31). There were to be no misunderstanding or mistakes—no false conclusions or faulty assumptions. There were plenty of those poking around in the heads of others. But not in his. His would be no earthly glory or grandeur.
Jesus did not sugarcoat the truth or shield the disciples. “The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again” (Mk 8:31). Jesus lays his future out precisely. There was a divine necessity for the Son of God, and at the same time the Son of Man—just like us. Did you hear it? Must. He did not suggest when they would arrive in Jerusalem, “The Son of Man might.” Or “the Son of Man may.” It is not like a meteorologist who warns that the weather might be dicey soon, but we will wait a day or two to forecast for sure if we can expect snow or sleet. No. “The Son of Man must …”
“suffer many things” (Mk 8:31). The Passion Reading on Wednesday nights detail that—from the anguish in Gethsemane, to the anger of his enemies, to agony of his execution.
“must … be rejected by the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law” (Mk 8:31). The religious authorities who should have known better judged him to be worthless like a person behind the counter at a gas station colors on a $20 bill and concludes that it is counterfeit (Jn 1:11). It was the Sanhedrin that clamored for his crucifixion.
“he must be killed” (Mk 8:31). Those men would be successful in bringing about his violent death through the Roman on a wooden instrument of torture.
“he must … after three days rise again” (Mk 8:31). That note of victory sailed past the disciples. We want it to sink in. Death was not defeat. Resurrection was a reality. And definite—3 days later. We wait for it and watch for it. There is Good Friday. But there is Easter Sunday.
That was too much for Peter. “Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him” (Mk 8:32). He was upset. That is understandable. The shameful suffering did not fit the picture of a mighty Messiah. We get it. We want glory without difficulty. Wouldn’t it be nice to have bulging biceps without the bench pressing?
But Peter was unaware. The others needed to understand Jesus’ purpose. “But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter” (Mk 8:33). Jesus draws us in too as he corrects Peter. “Get behind me, Satan!” (Mk 8:33). “Get out of my sight.” Jesus was not overreacting like when we don’t get enough caffeine in the morning. He was not being cranky when we don’t get enough sleep at night. Peter actually became a spokesman of Satan. He championed the devil’s plan to rob the world of its Redeemer. It sounds strangely similar to that temptation in the wilderness. "Jesus, bow down and worship me. I will give you all the kingdoms of the world. No pounding of nails. No gasping for breath.” (Mt 4:8,9). To which Jesus replied: “Away from me, Satan!” (Mt 4:10). “Be gone.” Jesus saw the suggestion for what it was—the thoughts of an enemy, not a friend. “You do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men” (Mk 8:33). “The things of men” was to shun the cross. “The things of God” was to shoulder the cross.
We have to inquire of someone, “What are you thinking?” We don’t know for sure. We are certain with Jesus. The Christ came to bear the cross—to wear our sin. The Serpent-Crusher would be the Sin-Carrier (Ge 3:15; Is 53). First the cross. Crucifixion. As Paul put it: “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Ro 5:8). Then the crown. Then resurrection. As a result, we have been justified—cleared of any charge against us. He changed our relationship from one of hostility to harmony (Ro 5:10,11). There is peace with God and access to him (Ro 5:1,2). Life with him right now and life with him forever (Ro 5:10). Think Jesus’ way about his future—cross bearer.
2. About our future (34-38)
“You are a Christian.” That is our conclusion. A little Christ. Jesus educates us on what that signifies for you. Think Jesus’ way about your future.
This training was for wide-scale distribution: “Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples” (Mk 8:34). There are three things for going behind Jesus: “If anyone would come after me, …” (Mk 8:34).
“he must deny himself” (Mk 8:34). That sounds like what many deem is part of Lent—giving something up (as long as it is not chocolate). But it is more. It is not saying “no” to something, but someone. Self. Think of what Peter did as he warmed himself by the fire during Jesus’ trial: “I don’t know him” (Mt 26:69ff.). Three times. He wanted nothing to do with Jesus.
We refuse to pay attention to our sinful nature when it comes to abusing God’s gifts. We use money or marriage in the manner in which God designed it. We think Jesus’ way—selfless love, not selfish love (2 Co 5:15). Nothing gets in the way of our relationship with God.
“take up his cross” (Mk 8:34). We carry a cross. Not like Jesus. His was to pay for our sins. And he finished the job (Jn 19:30). Ours is not the cause of salvation, but a consequence of salvation.
We think of the ribbing or ridicule that might come to us because we live according to the Word rather than along with the world. A high school girl breaks up with her boyfriend whom she loves because he badmouths her Savior. Or the dishonor to even death that is not out of the question.
“and follow me” (Mk 8:34). That is ongoing.
We tag along and trail after Jesus like the child’s game of follow the leader.
This is not a burden or a bother (Acts 5:41). It is about profit and loss. “For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it” (Mk 8:35). At first, it sounds like a riddle. But take it apart. Whoever wants to live for this life only—and nothing wrong with enjoying the 70 or 80 years plus that God grants—ends up with eternal ruin. The chase was after a desire that was temporary or a diversion that was momentary. The opposite is the case. Whoever looks to and longs for eternal life does not come up short (Ro 1:16). We keep in mind the big picture.
Jesus backs that up with two questions with obvious answers:
“What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?” (Mk 8:36). There is no advantage in that scenario. And who can even grab more than a corner of the world? Some trade their eternal home for so much less.
“Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?” (Mk 8:37). What could we slide across the table to buy God off or bribe him—a green piece of paper with a president on it (Ps 49:7)? Everything belongs to him anyway. There is nothing to compensate for such a loss. It would be like driving a new car away from the dealership to swap it with one in a junkyard.
Ultimately it won’t end well. “If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his Father’s glory with the holy angels” (Mk 8:38). If a person is red-faced about Jesus—who he is or what he says—will be saddened forever with Jesus’ sentence.
But Jesus is coming back for his own who trusted in him. He will gladly pick out those who believed in him. In the meantime, we have the same comfort as Jacob. When he was running away from home, he heard God’s faithful and firm promise: “I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go” (Ge 28:15). We can sing with the psalmist Asaph: “Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you take me into glory” (Ps 73:23,24). Think Jesus’ way about your future. There is cross bearing. First the cross. Then the crown.
You might not be sold on an exercise program or diet plan after a few minutes of an infomercial. You can have your specific outlook and still be right. You can live without it. But not Jesus. Think Jesus’ way about his future. He went to the cross to save. And think Jesus’ way about your future. We go with the cross to heaven. Happy Lent. Amen.
The grace of our Lord Jesus be with you (Ro 16:20). Amen.
February 25, 2018
St. John Lutheran Church Sermons
Sunday, February 25, 2018
Sunday, February 18, 2018
First Sunday in Lent (Genesis 22:1-18)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ (Ro 1:7). Amen.
At times a word gives us some interesting insight into its meaning. We may not be aware of that when we use it and still be correct in our conversation. Take the word “provision,” for example. If we divide it up into its two parts, we get “pro” and “vision”—“before sight.” Or “seeing before.” So when we make provisions, we take proper steps ahead of time because we recognize what is necessary. A mother may scratch down a shopping list so that she has what she needs to put another delicious supper on the table for her family. If it is tacos, you can’t forget the black olives.
The noun is “provision.” The verb is “provide.” That is what the Lord does. He sees to it beforehand. The Lord will provide. And he always will.
Twenty-five years is a long time to wait for something. Just do some simple math quickly. Subtract twenty-five from your age right now. (You don’t have to get out your calculator on your phone. Round up or down.) That puts some of you in negative numbers, others of us into darker hair. That is how long Abraham waited for the Lord to make good on his promise. When he was 75, God assured him: “I will make you into a great nation” (Ge 12:2). Ultimately the Savior would come from him (Ge 12:6). But at the moment, Abraham (which means “father of many”) and Sarah had no children. But Abraham trusted that the Lord would not fail him on this or forget about that for him. He would provide.
And he did—when Abraham was 100 years old (Ge 21:5). Isaac. This miracle baby certainly brought joy and laughter to his aging parents (Ge 21:6).
And then one day God came calling. Moses tells us right away: “God tested Abraham” (Ge 22:1). We know this up front. Abraham didn’t. It is not like what I remember growing up. There would be a digitized voice from the TV: “This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system. This is only a test.” In other words, there is no reason to get excited when you hear that obnoxious beeping that rivals the pleasant sound of the buzzing of an alarm clock. We know the end of the account. Abraham was at the beginning of it.
This test was for Abraham’s benefit, not God’s. As with any test, God wanted to purify his faith. So “he said to him, ‘Abraham!’ ‘Here I am,’ he replied” (Ge 22:1). Notice the polite response along the lines of: “Right here. At your service.” It is the opposite of the child playing on his tablet when mom summons him to unload the dishwasher, “What?!” He obviously doesn’t want to be bothered. That is not Abraham.
And then the command: “Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah” (Ge 22:2). There was no mistaking God’s message with the four, clear qualifiers:
your son,
your only son,
Isaac,
whom you love.
This was not for some father/son bonding time like a weekend camping trip. “Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about” (Ge 22:2). Yes—what was presented was to be entirely torched. It signified complete dedication and symbolized total devotion to God.
This was an opportunity for Abraham consciously to put God first. I compare it to school. In theory, a student has homework. A teacher puts that into reality when he or she assigns 30 math problems for tomorrow. It is a First Commandment issue. First in order and in importance. “You shall have no other gods. What does this mean? We should fear, love and trust in God above all things. It is way too easy to say, “I love you,” on Valentine’s Day. It is much more difficult to show “I love you” every day. As good and God-pleasing a parent’s love for his child is—and it is, it is not to crowd out his love for God. Jesus once commented something similar: “Anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me” (Mt 10:37). The emphasis is on “more than.”
That trial was specific to Abraham. We will let that to his wisdom. God will provide a particular testing of our faith when he feels that it is necessary so that nothing clouds our love for him. As he tailors it to us individually—no one size fits all, he wants to refine our faith. He desires and deserves the first place in our hearts.
We can understand the intense struggle. Not only did it seem to violate a father’s love for his son, but also to cut off his hope of ever being saved. God had been very clear: “My covenant I will establish with Isaac” (Ge 17:1). He was one who would carry on the bloodline of the Messiah. Isaac was Abraham’s link to the Savior. How could he hope to be right with God? Luther accurately summarized his predicament: “To human reason it must have seemed either that God’s promise would fail, or else this command must be of the devil and not of God.”
That is what makes the next words so amazing. “Early the next morning Abraham got up and saddled his donkey. He took with him two of his servants and his son Isaac. When he had cut enough wood for the burnt offering, he set out for the place God had told him about” (Ge 22:3). There was no delay like grabbing a second cup of coffee or excuses like rescheduling a dentist appointment—the next morning. His was a prompt and an obedient faith—no procrastination or hesitation.
And it wasn’t like it was down the street. “On the third day Abraham looked up and saw the place in the distance” (Ge 22:4). It was a perhaps a 50-mile walk. There was plenty of time to think this through.
When he reached the site, he took leave of the two men whom he brought with them. But his order to them is instructive: “Stay here with the donkey while I and the boy go over there. We will worship and then we will come back to you” (Ge 22:5).
“We will worship” (Ge 22:5). Abraham was emphatic. That is what this was in his mind—worship. He was declaring, “Lord, you have my heart. All of it.”
“Then we will come back to you” (Ge 22:5). Abraham was determined. “We are going to make it down this mountain. The two of us.” Somehow, someway God would have to work out the logistics—even if it involved bringing Isaac back from the dead. It was God’s problem, not his. The writer to the Hebrew Christians gives us some insight into Abraham’s attitude: “By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He who received the promise was about to sacrifice his one and only son, even though God had said to him, ‘It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned.’ Abraham reasoned that God could raise the dead, and figuratively speaking, he did receive Isaac back from death” (He 11:17-19).
All Abraham had was God’s word. “Through Isaac” (Ge 21:12). And he was going to hold on to that. When the Lord provides a testing of faith for us, we grab on to God’s words of promise as he speaks to us in his Word—whether we see it or not. That can only come from listening—over and over again. We run to them because God does not lie. He will not leave us (He 13:5). He will cause it—whatever the “it” is—to be for our eternal good (Ro 8:28). The Lord will provide.
And then the drama unfolds. “Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and placed it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife. … The two of them went on together” (Ge 22:6). Every step onward and upward must have been strenuous—not because of the incline, but because of the intent.
It was Isaac who broke the silence. “‘Father?’ ‘Yes, my son?’ Abraham replied. ‘The fire and wood are here,’ Isaac said, ‘but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?’” (Ge 22:7). Isaac’s logical inquiry must have cut deeper than the instrument in Abraham’s hand. And Abraham offers a considerate reply that spared Isaac of the details and at the same time demonstrates his confident faith. “God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son” (Ge 22:8). God will see to it.
The details pile up. “When they reached the place God had told him about, Abraham built an altar there and arranged the wood on it. He bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. Then he reached out his hand and took the knife to slay his son” (Ge 22:10,11).
He wasn’t bluffing. He was ready (Ja 2:21-23). With his hand held high, the voice of the angel of the LORD, the Son of God himself, was heard. “Abraham! Abraham!” (Ge 22:11). Two times because it was doubly urgent. And that familiar comeback: “Here I am” (Ge 22:11). “Right here.” The Lord stopped him because it was obvious what Abraham’s aim was. The necessary sacrifice was made. “Do not lay a hand on the boy,” he said. “Do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son” (Ge 22:12). There was reverence and there was respect for the one and only God.
But God is not done. He sees to the sacrifice. “Abraham looked up and there in a thicket he saw a ram caught by its horns. He went over and took the ram and sacrificed it as a burnt offering instead of his son” (Ge 22:13). Abraham was right. The Lord will provide. And the Lord did provide. A substitute sacrifice—a ram. That animal was burnt up on the altar rather than Isaac. That is why the hill was properly named. “So Abraham called that place The LORD Will Provide. And to this day it is said, ‘On the mountain of the LORD it will be provided’” (Ge 22:14). Father and son did go down and did go back to the two servants. Abraham left there will a deeper appreciation for his God and his son. Faith was beating in Abraham’s heart along with life still beating in Isaac’s heart. It was just as Abraham’s definite faith declared.
That really is what the rest of Scripture shares—a substitute. Jesus is the Substitute. What Abraham was willing to do—sacrifice his son, that is what God did. Possibly near this site. As the apostle Paul pointed out: “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all” (Ro 8:32). The Father did not hold back his Son, but sent him to the cross where he laid down his life. For us. For our benefit. In our place. All because God so loved the world that he gave his only Son (Jn 3:16). And then that Sacrifice, that Substitute, was raised to life (Ro 8:34).
It is short, but it is significant. Mark mentioned that Jesus went out into the wilderness at the Spirit’s direction. “He was in the desert forty days, being tempted by Satan” (Mk 1:13). There he took on Satan. There he defeated our enemy. For us. In our place. Jesus did not give into Satan’s sinister suggestions as he tried to rob the world of its Redeemer. Not once (He 4:15). Jesus hands us that holiness so that we are right with God (2 Co 5:21). The Lord provides.
But there is more. As we journey with Jesus to Jerusalem again this Lenten season, we watch as Jesus climbs the cross, carrying our sin. God placed it on him. For us. In our place. So we sing with the psalmist David: “Be merciful to me, LORD. Turn, O LORD, and deliver me; save me because of your unfailing love” (Ps 6:2,4). And the Lord provides forgiveness. “It is God who justifies” (Ro 8:33). It is God who announces that we are “not guilty.” And now nothing and no one will ever be able to separate us from God’s love in Christ Jesus (Ro 8:39). The Lord provides.
The angel of the LORD had an additional guarantee to give to Abraham who had been obedient (Ge 22:15). He declares it with authority and confirms it with an oath, swearing by himself because there is no one higher (Ge 22:16; He 6:13,14). “I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore. Your descendants will take possession of the cities of their enemies, and through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed, because you have obeyed me” (Ge 22:17,18). The Lord hints at Abraham’s family would conquer Canaan one day. But more important, Isaac would keep the lineage of the Savior going. The Lord would provide One who would crush the devil’s head (Ge 3:15). We consider ourselves blessed because we are included in the great group of believers through faith.
A mother sees ahead of time what is necessary for dinner. She makes provisions. Or she provides. The Lord does too. Even bigger. He provides a testing of faith, but also a turning in faith. We rely on our Substitute who takes away the sins of the world (Jn 1:29). The Lord will provide. He will see to it. Always. We are sure and certain just like Abraham (He 11:1; Ro 4:11).
We read from Genesis 22:1-18:
1 Some time later God tested Abraham. He said to him, “Abraham!” “Here I am,” he replied.
2 Then God said, “Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about.”
3 Early the next morning Abraham got up and saddled his donkey. He took with him two of his servants and his son Isaac. When he had cut enough wood for the burnt offering, he set out for the place God had told him about.
4 On the third day Abraham looked up and saw the place in the distance.
5 He said to his servants, “Stay here with the donkey while I and the boy go over there. We will worship and then we will come back to you.”
6 Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and placed it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife. As the two of them went on together,
7 Isaac spoke up and said to his father Abraham, “Father?” “Yes, my son?” Abraham replied. “The fire and wood are here,” Isaac said, “but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?”
8 Abraham answered, “God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.” And the two of them went on together.
9 When they reached the place God had told him about, Abraham built an altar there and arranged the wood on it. He bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood.
10 Then he reached out his hand and took the knife to slay his son.
11 But the angel of the LORD called out to him from heaven, “Abraham! Abraham!” “Here I am,” he replied.
12 “Do not lay a hand on the boy,” he said. “Do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son.”
13 Abraham looked up and there in a thicket he saw a ram caught by its horns. He went over and took the ram and sacrificed it as a burnt offering instead of his son.
14 So Abraham called that place The LORD Will Provide. And to this day it is said, “On the mountain of the LORD it will be provided.”
15 The angel of the LORD called to Abraham from heaven a second time
16 and said, “I swear by myself, declares the LORD, that because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son,
17 I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore. Your descendants will take possession of the cities of their enemies,
18 and through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed, because you have obeyed me.”
To the only wise God be glory forever through Jesus Christ! Amen (Ro 16:27).
February 18, 2018
At times a word gives us some interesting insight into its meaning. We may not be aware of that when we use it and still be correct in our conversation. Take the word “provision,” for example. If we divide it up into its two parts, we get “pro” and “vision”—“before sight.” Or “seeing before.” So when we make provisions, we take proper steps ahead of time because we recognize what is necessary. A mother may scratch down a shopping list so that she has what she needs to put another delicious supper on the table for her family. If it is tacos, you can’t forget the black olives.
The noun is “provision.” The verb is “provide.” That is what the Lord does. He sees to it beforehand. The Lord will provide. And he always will.
Twenty-five years is a long time to wait for something. Just do some simple math quickly. Subtract twenty-five from your age right now. (You don’t have to get out your calculator on your phone. Round up or down.) That puts some of you in negative numbers, others of us into darker hair. That is how long Abraham waited for the Lord to make good on his promise. When he was 75, God assured him: “I will make you into a great nation” (Ge 12:2). Ultimately the Savior would come from him (Ge 12:6). But at the moment, Abraham (which means “father of many”) and Sarah had no children. But Abraham trusted that the Lord would not fail him on this or forget about that for him. He would provide.
And he did—when Abraham was 100 years old (Ge 21:5). Isaac. This miracle baby certainly brought joy and laughter to his aging parents (Ge 21:6).
And then one day God came calling. Moses tells us right away: “God tested Abraham” (Ge 22:1). We know this up front. Abraham didn’t. It is not like what I remember growing up. There would be a digitized voice from the TV: “This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system. This is only a test.” In other words, there is no reason to get excited when you hear that obnoxious beeping that rivals the pleasant sound of the buzzing of an alarm clock. We know the end of the account. Abraham was at the beginning of it.
This test was for Abraham’s benefit, not God’s. As with any test, God wanted to purify his faith. So “he said to him, ‘Abraham!’ ‘Here I am,’ he replied” (Ge 22:1). Notice the polite response along the lines of: “Right here. At your service.” It is the opposite of the child playing on his tablet when mom summons him to unload the dishwasher, “What?!” He obviously doesn’t want to be bothered. That is not Abraham.
And then the command: “Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah” (Ge 22:2). There was no mistaking God’s message with the four, clear qualifiers:
your son,
your only son,
Isaac,
whom you love.
This was not for some father/son bonding time like a weekend camping trip. “Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about” (Ge 22:2). Yes—what was presented was to be entirely torched. It signified complete dedication and symbolized total devotion to God.
This was an opportunity for Abraham consciously to put God first. I compare it to school. In theory, a student has homework. A teacher puts that into reality when he or she assigns 30 math problems for tomorrow. It is a First Commandment issue. First in order and in importance. “You shall have no other gods. What does this mean? We should fear, love and trust in God above all things. It is way too easy to say, “I love you,” on Valentine’s Day. It is much more difficult to show “I love you” every day. As good and God-pleasing a parent’s love for his child is—and it is, it is not to crowd out his love for God. Jesus once commented something similar: “Anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me” (Mt 10:37). The emphasis is on “more than.”
That trial was specific to Abraham. We will let that to his wisdom. God will provide a particular testing of our faith when he feels that it is necessary so that nothing clouds our love for him. As he tailors it to us individually—no one size fits all, he wants to refine our faith. He desires and deserves the first place in our hearts.
We can understand the intense struggle. Not only did it seem to violate a father’s love for his son, but also to cut off his hope of ever being saved. God had been very clear: “My covenant I will establish with Isaac” (Ge 17:1). He was one who would carry on the bloodline of the Messiah. Isaac was Abraham’s link to the Savior. How could he hope to be right with God? Luther accurately summarized his predicament: “To human reason it must have seemed either that God’s promise would fail, or else this command must be of the devil and not of God.”
That is what makes the next words so amazing. “Early the next morning Abraham got up and saddled his donkey. He took with him two of his servants and his son Isaac. When he had cut enough wood for the burnt offering, he set out for the place God had told him about” (Ge 22:3). There was no delay like grabbing a second cup of coffee or excuses like rescheduling a dentist appointment—the next morning. His was a prompt and an obedient faith—no procrastination or hesitation.
And it wasn’t like it was down the street. “On the third day Abraham looked up and saw the place in the distance” (Ge 22:4). It was a perhaps a 50-mile walk. There was plenty of time to think this through.
When he reached the site, he took leave of the two men whom he brought with them. But his order to them is instructive: “Stay here with the donkey while I and the boy go over there. We will worship and then we will come back to you” (Ge 22:5).
“We will worship” (Ge 22:5). Abraham was emphatic. That is what this was in his mind—worship. He was declaring, “Lord, you have my heart. All of it.”
“Then we will come back to you” (Ge 22:5). Abraham was determined. “We are going to make it down this mountain. The two of us.” Somehow, someway God would have to work out the logistics—even if it involved bringing Isaac back from the dead. It was God’s problem, not his. The writer to the Hebrew Christians gives us some insight into Abraham’s attitude: “By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He who received the promise was about to sacrifice his one and only son, even though God had said to him, ‘It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned.’ Abraham reasoned that God could raise the dead, and figuratively speaking, he did receive Isaac back from death” (He 11:17-19).
All Abraham had was God’s word. “Through Isaac” (Ge 21:12). And he was going to hold on to that. When the Lord provides a testing of faith for us, we grab on to God’s words of promise as he speaks to us in his Word—whether we see it or not. That can only come from listening—over and over again. We run to them because God does not lie. He will not leave us (He 13:5). He will cause it—whatever the “it” is—to be for our eternal good (Ro 8:28). The Lord will provide.
And then the drama unfolds. “Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and placed it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife. … The two of them went on together” (Ge 22:6). Every step onward and upward must have been strenuous—not because of the incline, but because of the intent.
It was Isaac who broke the silence. “‘Father?’ ‘Yes, my son?’ Abraham replied. ‘The fire and wood are here,’ Isaac said, ‘but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?’” (Ge 22:7). Isaac’s logical inquiry must have cut deeper than the instrument in Abraham’s hand. And Abraham offers a considerate reply that spared Isaac of the details and at the same time demonstrates his confident faith. “God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son” (Ge 22:8). God will see to it.
The details pile up. “When they reached the place God had told him about, Abraham built an altar there and arranged the wood on it. He bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. Then he reached out his hand and took the knife to slay his son” (Ge 22:10,11).
He wasn’t bluffing. He was ready (Ja 2:21-23). With his hand held high, the voice of the angel of the LORD, the Son of God himself, was heard. “Abraham! Abraham!” (Ge 22:11). Two times because it was doubly urgent. And that familiar comeback: “Here I am” (Ge 22:11). “Right here.” The Lord stopped him because it was obvious what Abraham’s aim was. The necessary sacrifice was made. “Do not lay a hand on the boy,” he said. “Do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son” (Ge 22:12). There was reverence and there was respect for the one and only God.
But God is not done. He sees to the sacrifice. “Abraham looked up and there in a thicket he saw a ram caught by its horns. He went over and took the ram and sacrificed it as a burnt offering instead of his son” (Ge 22:13). Abraham was right. The Lord will provide. And the Lord did provide. A substitute sacrifice—a ram. That animal was burnt up on the altar rather than Isaac. That is why the hill was properly named. “So Abraham called that place The LORD Will Provide. And to this day it is said, ‘On the mountain of the LORD it will be provided’” (Ge 22:14). Father and son did go down and did go back to the two servants. Abraham left there will a deeper appreciation for his God and his son. Faith was beating in Abraham’s heart along with life still beating in Isaac’s heart. It was just as Abraham’s definite faith declared.
That really is what the rest of Scripture shares—a substitute. Jesus is the Substitute. What Abraham was willing to do—sacrifice his son, that is what God did. Possibly near this site. As the apostle Paul pointed out: “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all” (Ro 8:32). The Father did not hold back his Son, but sent him to the cross where he laid down his life. For us. For our benefit. In our place. All because God so loved the world that he gave his only Son (Jn 3:16). And then that Sacrifice, that Substitute, was raised to life (Ro 8:34).
It is short, but it is significant. Mark mentioned that Jesus went out into the wilderness at the Spirit’s direction. “He was in the desert forty days, being tempted by Satan” (Mk 1:13). There he took on Satan. There he defeated our enemy. For us. In our place. Jesus did not give into Satan’s sinister suggestions as he tried to rob the world of its Redeemer. Not once (He 4:15). Jesus hands us that holiness so that we are right with God (2 Co 5:21). The Lord provides.
But there is more. As we journey with Jesus to Jerusalem again this Lenten season, we watch as Jesus climbs the cross, carrying our sin. God placed it on him. For us. In our place. So we sing with the psalmist David: “Be merciful to me, LORD. Turn, O LORD, and deliver me; save me because of your unfailing love” (Ps 6:2,4). And the Lord provides forgiveness. “It is God who justifies” (Ro 8:33). It is God who announces that we are “not guilty.” And now nothing and no one will ever be able to separate us from God’s love in Christ Jesus (Ro 8:39). The Lord provides.
The angel of the LORD had an additional guarantee to give to Abraham who had been obedient (Ge 22:15). He declares it with authority and confirms it with an oath, swearing by himself because there is no one higher (Ge 22:16; He 6:13,14). “I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore. Your descendants will take possession of the cities of their enemies, and through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed, because you have obeyed me” (Ge 22:17,18). The Lord hints at Abraham’s family would conquer Canaan one day. But more important, Isaac would keep the lineage of the Savior going. The Lord would provide One who would crush the devil’s head (Ge 3:15). We consider ourselves blessed because we are included in the great group of believers through faith.
A mother sees ahead of time what is necessary for dinner. She makes provisions. Or she provides. The Lord does too. Even bigger. He provides a testing of faith, but also a turning in faith. We rely on our Substitute who takes away the sins of the world (Jn 1:29). The Lord will provide. He will see to it. Always. We are sure and certain just like Abraham (He 11:1; Ro 4:11).
We read from Genesis 22:1-18:
1 Some time later God tested Abraham. He said to him, “Abraham!” “Here I am,” he replied.
2 Then God said, “Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about.”
3 Early the next morning Abraham got up and saddled his donkey. He took with him two of his servants and his son Isaac. When he had cut enough wood for the burnt offering, he set out for the place God had told him about.
4 On the third day Abraham looked up and saw the place in the distance.
5 He said to his servants, “Stay here with the donkey while I and the boy go over there. We will worship and then we will come back to you.”
6 Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and placed it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife. As the two of them went on together,
7 Isaac spoke up and said to his father Abraham, “Father?” “Yes, my son?” Abraham replied. “The fire and wood are here,” Isaac said, “but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?”
8 Abraham answered, “God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.” And the two of them went on together.
9 When they reached the place God had told him about, Abraham built an altar there and arranged the wood on it. He bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood.
10 Then he reached out his hand and took the knife to slay his son.
11 But the angel of the LORD called out to him from heaven, “Abraham! Abraham!” “Here I am,” he replied.
12 “Do not lay a hand on the boy,” he said. “Do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son.”
13 Abraham looked up and there in a thicket he saw a ram caught by its horns. He went over and took the ram and sacrificed it as a burnt offering instead of his son.
14 So Abraham called that place The LORD Will Provide. And to this day it is said, “On the mountain of the LORD it will be provided.”
15 The angel of the LORD called to Abraham from heaven a second time
16 and said, “I swear by myself, declares the LORD, that because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son,
17 I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore. Your descendants will take possession of the cities of their enemies,
18 and through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed, because you have obeyed me.”
To the only wise God be glory forever through Jesus Christ! Amen (Ro 16:27).
February 18, 2018
Thursday, February 15, 2018
Ash Wednesday (Hebrews 5:7-9)
Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame (He 12:2). Amen.
We repeatedly use the word. Perfect. But we really misuse the word.
Let me explain. Perfect is relative. Today is Valentine’s Day. Go ahead and chuckle. Not one of my best holidays. I am anything but a romantic. Just hopeless. That is a concern for only one person though. But what is the perfect gift for this day? A heart made out of red construction paper? A ring made up of white sparkling diamonds? (The correct answer is anything chocolate, preferably dark.) But there is no one present that is perfect for all because of all different opinions.
Perfect is also not right. There is no such thing. While cutting a heart, it may be misshapen or when giving a ring, one might be mistaken.
Except for Jesus. He is perfect. Faultless. Flawless. But also necessary and needed. As we make our Lenten journey this year, we will be considering him as our High Priest. That is something that the Jewish readers of the letter of Hebrews were familiar with since they knew the Old Testament. That was a critical person that was a picture of Christ—anointed to be our prophet, priest, and king. He is our perfect High Priest seen in the way he prayed and seen in the way he obeyed. We read from …
Hebrews 5:7-9
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ Jesus, our perfect High Priest,
Maybe you have heard me say this before. But it has been four years. When I watch the winter Olympics, I don’t comment: “I could do that.” I can stand on skates to do a triple axel. I can’t slalom on skies to navigate the numerous moguls. Those athletes from around the globe are not just good, they are great. They are in incredible shape with unbelievable skill. But perfect? They chase a score of a 10 (or a multiple of it). But there is tumble on the mountain or a trip on the ice.
Jesus is not just good or great. He is perfect.
Jesus Is Our Perfect High Priest
1. Seen in the way he prayed (7)
2. Seen in the way he obeyed (8,9)
1. Seen in the way he prayed (7)
Perhaps you are watching the Olympics and a particular competition comes on that you are not that fond of even if you like the song that the two are dancing their long program to. But you know someone in the room can’t get enough of outfits with sequins. So you ask, “Do you want to see this?” On a much grander scale, Jesus does that. Jesus is our perfect High Priest seen in the way he prayed.
Jesus was a man of prayer. The Gospels record various times that Jesus would go off in private to speak to his heavenly Father. On one occasion he spent the night doing that before he chose the 12 apostles (Lk 10:12-16). But he also taught prayer during his Sermon on the Mount. One of the petitions is this: “Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Mt 6:10). Jesus didn’t just say it in theory for us. He stated it in reality for himself.
The unnamed author of Hebrews takes us back to Christmas—“during the days of Jesus’ life on earth” (He 5:7). He took on human flesh like we have—true man, born of the virgin Mary. Now during Lent, we see why—to be our Savior, punished for our sins.
That is what Jesus prepared for and pointed to. There are several occasions when he talked plainly and purposely about the suffering that was ahead of him in Jerusalem—betrayal and denial, rejection and crucifixion (ex. Mk 8:31). But always in view of the resurrection three days later. Keep that in mind the next six weeks. The final goal is Easter Sunday.
The finality sunk in for Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. The writer refers to that crisis on the night before his crucifixion: “He offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death” (He 5:7). After celebrating the Passover and Lord’s Supper in the Upper Room, Jesus and the 11 made their way to the olive grove. He sat the eight down and selected those three—Peter, James, and John to go with him a bit farther. We hear the anguish and anxiety as Jesus announces: “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (Mt 26:38).
Going a stone’s throw away, Jesus fell on his face in extreme need. There is anything but calm and quiet. He poured out his serious pleas and urgent requests—shouts from his mouth, water from his eyes, even sweat from his forehead like drops of blood (Lk 22:44). Jesus knew the physical pain of what was approaching—his back ripped to shreds with a whip and his arms and legs fixed to a cross with nails.
But there was so much more—the spiritual part of what was looming. He called out, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me” (Mt 26:39). Two other times he uttered something similar. But always: “Your will, not mine.” In that cup that the Father was pressing to Jesus’ lips is the eternal punishment for the sins of the world (Jn 1:29). We know the guilt of our own heart. Now multiply it by the number in this room. Now of the world—past and present. God was dumping on him the evil of the whole human race. Jesus was not being reluctant. He recoiled at the thought of drinking it. It is like a little child when it comes to the horrible tasting medicine on a tablespoon. They shudder, even scream. But they end up swallowing it. It is for their good.
But Jesus gulps it down to the very dregs for our good. The Father had the ability and the capability to spare his Son of that painful, shameful death on that Roman instrument of torture at Calvary. But he didn’t. He didn’t for us. He did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all (Ro 8:32). God did not remove the cross; he readied him for it, even sending an angel to strengthen him and support him for the day to come (Lk 22:43). That was the Father’s desire and that was the Son’s determination. He went back to his disciples and urged them: “Rise, let us go! Here comes my betrayer” (Mt 26:46).
In the Old Testament, the high priest represented the people before God. He prayed on their behalf. Jesus prayed for us—with his words. Jesus is our perfect High Priest seen in the way he prayed for us.
2. Seen in the way he obeyed (8,9)
Go back to the living room where you are watching the world vie for precious medals. It is one thing to inquire about someone’s preference, it is another to do it. Even though you want to change the channel (even if it means watching commercials), you put down the remote and stare in silence as a duo makes figures on ice. Again, on a much higher level, that is Jesus. Jesus is our perfect High Priest seen in the way he obeyed.
And he did. The author to the Hebrews highlights that. “Although he was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered” (He 5:8). Jesus accepted the Father’s will—from Gethsemane to Golgotha (Mt 26:42). He lived what he taught: “Your will be done” (cf. Jn 4:34). And that meant the cross. He “became obedient to death—even death on a cross” (Php 2:8). He did not shy away or step away from going to his death.
And it happened. Jesus reached the goal. That is what is behind the phrase, “once made perfect” (He 5:9). Jesus accomplished his task. When we stand beneath the cross, Jesus yelled out from it: “It is finished” (Jn 19:30). His mission was all done—nothing left to do. Our guilt is all gone. And three days later he rose, signifying the defeat of death.
As a result, “he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him” (He 5:9). On him, we base our confidence that he has rescued us from the impossible situation of being lost in sin. He is the way, the truth, and the life (Jn 14:6). His is the only name that saves (Acts 4:12). And there is none other. And this “obeying him” is nothing more than believing in him. As the apostle John once jotted down: “We obey his commands and do what pleases him. And this is his command: to believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ” (1 Jn 3:22,23). All who believe have eternal life (Jn 3:16).
Another important function of the high priest in the Old Testament was to offer sacrifices for the people. There was no missing the meaning behind that. Animals lost their lives in the place of another. Jesus paid for us—with his death. That makes him our perfect High Priest seen in the way he obeyed.
It must run in the family. My brother once remarked about the Olympics. He noted it during the summer games, but the thought still applies. I will modify it a bit. “We forget how good they are. You should put me on the cross country track so the common man can see how fast they are. I wonder how many times they would lap me.” Those participants are great because their training doesn’t include sitting on the couch. But like a Valentine’s gift, none of them ultimately is perfect. Jesus is. Jesus is our perfect High Priest seen in the way he prayed and obeyed. “Your will be done, Father.” And it was. He died in our place. He is exactly the High Priest that we needed. Perfect. And we have him. Amen.
Grace be with you all (He 13:25). Amen.
February 14, 2018
7 During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. 8 Although he was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered 9 and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.
We repeatedly use the word. Perfect. But we really misuse the word.
Let me explain. Perfect is relative. Today is Valentine’s Day. Go ahead and chuckle. Not one of my best holidays. I am anything but a romantic. Just hopeless. That is a concern for only one person though. But what is the perfect gift for this day? A heart made out of red construction paper? A ring made up of white sparkling diamonds? (The correct answer is anything chocolate, preferably dark.) But there is no one present that is perfect for all because of all different opinions.
Perfect is also not right. There is no such thing. While cutting a heart, it may be misshapen or when giving a ring, one might be mistaken.
Except for Jesus. He is perfect. Faultless. Flawless. But also necessary and needed. As we make our Lenten journey this year, we will be considering him as our High Priest. That is something that the Jewish readers of the letter of Hebrews were familiar with since they knew the Old Testament. That was a critical person that was a picture of Christ—anointed to be our prophet, priest, and king. He is our perfect High Priest seen in the way he prayed and seen in the way he obeyed. We read from …
Hebrews 5:7-9
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ Jesus, our perfect High Priest,
Maybe you have heard me say this before. But it has been four years. When I watch the winter Olympics, I don’t comment: “I could do that.” I can stand on skates to do a triple axel. I can’t slalom on skies to navigate the numerous moguls. Those athletes from around the globe are not just good, they are great. They are in incredible shape with unbelievable skill. But perfect? They chase a score of a 10 (or a multiple of it). But there is tumble on the mountain or a trip on the ice.
Jesus is not just good or great. He is perfect.
Jesus Is Our Perfect High Priest
1. Seen in the way he prayed (7)
2. Seen in the way he obeyed (8,9)
1. Seen in the way he prayed (7)
Perhaps you are watching the Olympics and a particular competition comes on that you are not that fond of even if you like the song that the two are dancing their long program to. But you know someone in the room can’t get enough of outfits with sequins. So you ask, “Do you want to see this?” On a much grander scale, Jesus does that. Jesus is our perfect High Priest seen in the way he prayed.
Jesus was a man of prayer. The Gospels record various times that Jesus would go off in private to speak to his heavenly Father. On one occasion he spent the night doing that before he chose the 12 apostles (Lk 10:12-16). But he also taught prayer during his Sermon on the Mount. One of the petitions is this: “Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Mt 6:10). Jesus didn’t just say it in theory for us. He stated it in reality for himself.
The unnamed author of Hebrews takes us back to Christmas—“during the days of Jesus’ life on earth” (He 5:7). He took on human flesh like we have—true man, born of the virgin Mary. Now during Lent, we see why—to be our Savior, punished for our sins.
That is what Jesus prepared for and pointed to. There are several occasions when he talked plainly and purposely about the suffering that was ahead of him in Jerusalem—betrayal and denial, rejection and crucifixion (ex. Mk 8:31). But always in view of the resurrection three days later. Keep that in mind the next six weeks. The final goal is Easter Sunday.
The finality sunk in for Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. The writer refers to that crisis on the night before his crucifixion: “He offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death” (He 5:7). After celebrating the Passover and Lord’s Supper in the Upper Room, Jesus and the 11 made their way to the olive grove. He sat the eight down and selected those three—Peter, James, and John to go with him a bit farther. We hear the anguish and anxiety as Jesus announces: “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (Mt 26:38).
Going a stone’s throw away, Jesus fell on his face in extreme need. There is anything but calm and quiet. He poured out his serious pleas and urgent requests—shouts from his mouth, water from his eyes, even sweat from his forehead like drops of blood (Lk 22:44). Jesus knew the physical pain of what was approaching—his back ripped to shreds with a whip and his arms and legs fixed to a cross with nails.
But there was so much more—the spiritual part of what was looming. He called out, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me” (Mt 26:39). Two other times he uttered something similar. But always: “Your will, not mine.” In that cup that the Father was pressing to Jesus’ lips is the eternal punishment for the sins of the world (Jn 1:29). We know the guilt of our own heart. Now multiply it by the number in this room. Now of the world—past and present. God was dumping on him the evil of the whole human race. Jesus was not being reluctant. He recoiled at the thought of drinking it. It is like a little child when it comes to the horrible tasting medicine on a tablespoon. They shudder, even scream. But they end up swallowing it. It is for their good.
But Jesus gulps it down to the very dregs for our good. The Father had the ability and the capability to spare his Son of that painful, shameful death on that Roman instrument of torture at Calvary. But he didn’t. He didn’t for us. He did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all (Ro 8:32). God did not remove the cross; he readied him for it, even sending an angel to strengthen him and support him for the day to come (Lk 22:43). That was the Father’s desire and that was the Son’s determination. He went back to his disciples and urged them: “Rise, let us go! Here comes my betrayer” (Mt 26:46).
In the Old Testament, the high priest represented the people before God. He prayed on their behalf. Jesus prayed for us—with his words. Jesus is our perfect High Priest seen in the way he prayed for us.
2. Seen in the way he obeyed (8,9)
Go back to the living room where you are watching the world vie for precious medals. It is one thing to inquire about someone’s preference, it is another to do it. Even though you want to change the channel (even if it means watching commercials), you put down the remote and stare in silence as a duo makes figures on ice. Again, on a much higher level, that is Jesus. Jesus is our perfect High Priest seen in the way he obeyed.
And he did. The author to the Hebrews highlights that. “Although he was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered” (He 5:8). Jesus accepted the Father’s will—from Gethsemane to Golgotha (Mt 26:42). He lived what he taught: “Your will be done” (cf. Jn 4:34). And that meant the cross. He “became obedient to death—even death on a cross” (Php 2:8). He did not shy away or step away from going to his death.
And it happened. Jesus reached the goal. That is what is behind the phrase, “once made perfect” (He 5:9). Jesus accomplished his task. When we stand beneath the cross, Jesus yelled out from it: “It is finished” (Jn 19:30). His mission was all done—nothing left to do. Our guilt is all gone. And three days later he rose, signifying the defeat of death.
As a result, “he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him” (He 5:9). On him, we base our confidence that he has rescued us from the impossible situation of being lost in sin. He is the way, the truth, and the life (Jn 14:6). His is the only name that saves (Acts 4:12). And there is none other. And this “obeying him” is nothing more than believing in him. As the apostle John once jotted down: “We obey his commands and do what pleases him. And this is his command: to believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ” (1 Jn 3:22,23). All who believe have eternal life (Jn 3:16).
Another important function of the high priest in the Old Testament was to offer sacrifices for the people. There was no missing the meaning behind that. Animals lost their lives in the place of another. Jesus paid for us—with his death. That makes him our perfect High Priest seen in the way he obeyed.
It must run in the family. My brother once remarked about the Olympics. He noted it during the summer games, but the thought still applies. I will modify it a bit. “We forget how good they are. You should put me on the cross country track so the common man can see how fast they are. I wonder how many times they would lap me.” Those participants are great because their training doesn’t include sitting on the couch. But like a Valentine’s gift, none of them ultimately is perfect. Jesus is. Jesus is our perfect High Priest seen in the way he prayed and obeyed. “Your will be done, Father.” And it was. He died in our place. He is exactly the High Priest that we needed. Perfect. And we have him. Amen.
Grace be with you all (He 13:25). Amen.
February 14, 2018
7 During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. 8 Although he was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered 9 and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.
Sunday, February 11, 2018
Last Sunday after the Epiphany - Transfiguration (Mark 9:2-9)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ (2 Co 1:2). Amen.
I have never done any serious mountain climbing. Right now I am kind of done with snow and cold. No need to go find more. Small hill walking is more my speed. That way I don’t have to deal with a base camp or backpack, a carabiner or compass. In general, I will do the least amount of whatever still qualifies for that trail mix snack because I like the M&Ms in that.
But I have talked to those who spend some time scaling tall peaks. They claim that it is worth the work to get there. They see things differently that many more miles above sea level. The view gives them a different perspective.
Jesus and three of his closest disciples ascended a mount. We join them. It is good to be on the top of the mountain—to see what Jesus does up there and to see what Jesus does from there. We read from …
Mark 9:2-9
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ Jesus, our great and glorious Savior,
When a person asserts, “I don’t mean to state the obvious, but …,” he goes on to do it anyway. So will I. Here it is: The goal of heading up a mountain is to reach the summit. I have to imagine that it is disappointing because one is out of oxygen or out of shape to get a quarter of the way or halfway or even five-eighths of the way up the mountain. (I am not very good at fractions so insert one of your own liking.)
We don’t fall short at Jesus’ Transfiguration.
It Is Good to Be on the Top of the Mountain
1. To see what Jesus does up there (2-7)
2. To see what Jesus does from there (8,9)
1. To see what Jesus does up there (2-7)
So what do you do when you finally stand at the apex of a high elevation? Plant a flag? Snap a selfie? (You can’t go anywhere without your phone. You don’t need cell service for a picture. But standard data rates may apply if you text.) Perhaps you just take it all in. That is what we do. It is good for us to be on the top of the mountain to see what Jesus does up there.
The time reference is exact. “After six days” (Mk 9:2). Mark highlights it for a reason—not just to be a historian. We go back almost a week and the disciples had heard some heavy stuff from Jesus. After Peter had correctly confessed Jesus as “the Christ” (Mk 8:29), Jesus went on to explain what that meant—suffering many things like rejection by the ones he came to rescue. He would be killed. But he would come back to life after three days (Mk 8:31ff.). (They missed that important piece of information that Jesus always connected to his death.) There was no missing what Jesus laid out before them. It was plain to them. And it was painful for them.
Jesus knew that they needed something special, something specific. And Jesus knows how to balance that precisely. We would do well to note that in our lives. There are ups and downs—like pinnacles and valleys of a mountain. He manages them just right. The highs help us prepare for the lows as we look back at them and the lows help us anticipate the highs as we look ahead to them. Either way, we recognize our dependence on our Lord.
And three of them would experience that something spectacular. “Jesus took Peter, James and John with him and led them up a high mountain, where they were all alone” (Mk 9:2). And it is as if Mark puts us at the scene. Why those three? These were the same ones who also witnessed the miraculous raising of Jairus’ daughter from the dead (Mk 5:37). These men would be enough to attest to what occurred here too so that this is no cleverly invented story (Dt 19:15; 2 Pe 1:16). Not to mention that it would be difficult for 12 mouths to keep this quiet for a time (cf. Mk 9:9).
And then it did happen in private. We don’t know which mountain it was nor where it was. It makes no difference. But this does. “He was transfigured before them” (Mk 9:2). It is not hard to think of the metamorphosis of a caterpillar into a butterfly. Jesus’ form changed right in front of them. Or he transformed. God did that. Jesus didn’t request it. He received it. The splendor that Jesus had all along—from eternity—as the Son of God was evident. That was not always obvious (Php 2:6,7). There was no glow about Jesus on earth. No halo over his head. But it was on full display here and now.
Talk about an epiphany. (Recall that the word means “show forth.”) Jesus’ divine glory shines forth in his human form. The apostle Paul reminded us that when Moses came down from Mt. Sanai, he “would put a veil over his face to keep the Israelites from gazing at it while the radiance was fading away” (2 Co 3:13). He reflected God’s glory (Ex 34:35). Jesus revealed it. John who was there later commented: “We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth” (Jn 1:14). Peter would one day pen: “We were eyewitnesses of his majesty” (2 Pe 1:16). It is good to be on the top of the mountain to observe this. Jesus is true man. Jesus is true God (Col 2:9).
And it almost defies comparison. Mark tired. “His clothes became dazzling white, whiter than anyone in the world could bleach them” (Mk 9:3). This is not a Tide commercial like during last week’s Superbowl. Bleach can whiten, but not like that. And like a white wedding dress, Jesus purity is present.
But then two Old Testament greats became visible. “And there appeared before them Elijah and Moses, who were talking with Jesus” (Mk 9:4).
Moses who predicted the Prophet would come one day was conversing with him this day (Dt 18:15). Moses who carved the Ten Commandments is communicating with the One who kept it completely.
Elijah who was a preacher of repentance is chatting with the One who was turning people from their sin to their Savior (1 Kg 18:39; Mt 4:17). This same one who had been taken into heaven “in a whirlwind” came down from heaven (2 Ki 2:11).
They were discussing Jesus’ upcoming death and resurrection (Lk 9:31)—his victory of crushing the devil’s head (Ge 3:15). Jesus carried out all that the Law and the Prophets wrote down. He did it for us. It is good to be on the top of the mountain.
And then there is Peter. “He did not know what to say” (Mk 9:6). But he still was never at a loss for words. This is not altitude sickness, but absolute fear (Mk 9:6). That is the reaction when confronted with God’s glory. And so Peter proposed: “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. [That much was absolutely true. So far so good. But unfortunately he kept going.] Let us put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah” (Mk 9:5). That was fairly foolish, if not simply selfish. But can you blame him? There was glory—a foretaste of heaven. He wanted to hit “pause” like when you are watching a movie but have to run to the kitchen for a refill of popcorn. Peter wanted the famous guests to remain where they were and Jesus could remain as he was. But true glory would come from his death on the cross and resurrection from the grave. Jesus would have none of Peter’s suggestion no matter what his intention was. He would not be deterred from his purpose and God’s plan.
But there was more. “Then a cloud appeared and enveloped them” (Mk 9:7). Again, that is not by chance. A storm was not brewing. You don’t want to get caught on a mountain when that takes place. But a cloud was a throwback to God’s presence among his people. Think of when a cloud covered Mt. Sinai when Moses was up there (Ex 24:15). Or how the Lord led them through the wilderness “in a pillar of cloud” (Ex 13:21; cf Ex 40:36-38). But it marked that he was going to do something remarkable. God is moving forward with Jesus’ mission of delivering from sin.
And then the voice: “This is my Son, whom I love” (Mk 9:7). More than likely that sounds familiar. The Father declared the same thing at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry—at his baptism. Here it is just as meaningful.
“This is my Son” (Mk 9:7). The Father points him out: “This one right here. My Son.”
“whom I love” (Mk 9:7). The Father was pleased what his Son had done since his baptism—living perfectly, preaching clearly. But love would push him on to Calvary. God would not hold him back from the nails of that instrument of torture (Ro 8:32). We want what is best for our children. Look what the Father does. He puts our guilt on his Son. That would be painful and shameful. That is how Jesus would live up to his name of “Savior” (Mt 1:21). And Jesus went willingly to lay down his life (Jn 10:17).
But there is one addition: “Listen to him!” (Mk 9:7). That is what God wants of us—to listen. Find some quiet time to do just that—hear his voice (Jn 10:27). Give your attention when THE Word of God shares the Word of God with you (Jn 1:1)—to enlighten and to encourage. He tells of incredible love and eternal life (Jn 3:16; 6:68). That truth comes from THE Truth (Jn 14:6). It is good for us to be on the top of the mountain to see what Jesus does up there. He gets the approval of his Father for what he is accomplishing in our place.
2. To see what Jesus does from there (8,9)
It is reality. Or just gravity. But what goes up must come down. Mountain climbers sooner or later make their descent. So did Jesus. It is good to be at the top of the mountain to see what Jesus does from there.
It ended as quickly as it began. “Suddenly, when they looked around, they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus” (Mk 9:8). Just like before. Only Jesus. But it is beneficial if all we see is Jesus too. And we do. He is always there. He will never leave us (He 13:5). We see Jesus. Only Jesus.
At first, Jesus’ strict command seems strange: “As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus gave them orders not to tell anyone what they had seen until the Son of Man had risen from the dead” (Mk 9:9). But not really after further review. There was regularly the silliness of the disciples arguing who was the greatest. There was repeatedly the foolishness of the people assuming how Jesus could be great. Being #1 in Jesus’ cabinet and beating the Romans in their country was to stop. The time to relate this glimpse of glory was not right. Yet. It would be later when the disciples would understand fully and could proclaim confidently. Notice again how Jesus comments about his passion—always followed by the resurrection (Mk 9:9).
It is good for us to be on the top of the mountain to see what Jesus does from there. He comes down. Today is the last Sunday in Epiphany. We have reviewed one more time that Jesus took on our flesh and blood to defeat the devil. He is the Savior of the whole world, of all, of us. And this morning, Pearl through the water of baptism. Jesus brought her into a cherished relationship with him—his child (1 Jn 3:1). He demonstrated that he was the Son of God with his mighty miracles and his powerful preaching. He drove out demons. He forgave sins. He healed the paralyzed. His glory is clear in his words and his works.
But his work is not done at this point. That is why he refused to remain on the mountain. True glory went through the cross. And that is where Jesus was determined to go. This Wednesday is the opening of the Lenten season. We will track Jesus as he makes a final trek to the place of the Skull. But that is not a death march. It is a life march. He will come back from the dead. And now the glory of heaven awaits us. We join the psalmist who had us sing with all things in heaven and on earth, animate and inanimate: “Praise the LORD” (Ps 148:1,14).
Now that the 2018 Winter Olympics have started in PyeongChang, South Korea (by the end of it, I may be able to pronounce it right), there will be people trying to make it down mountains as fast as possible either on two boards or in twos with a bobsled. We want to take our time. It is good for us to be at the top of the unknown mountain to see what Jesus does up there. He exhibits his glory as God. And the Father accepts his Son and his effort on our behalf. It is good for us to be at the top of the unnamed mountain to see what Jesus does from there. We watch as it is on to Jerusalem to hang on a cross and head out of the tomb. From the height of that mountain we behold the depth of his love. Happy Transfiguration. Happy Epiphany. Amen.
May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all (2 Co 13:14). Amen.
February 11, 2018
Monday, February 5, 2018
Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany (Mark 2:1-12)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ (2 Co 1:2). Amen.
“I know.” Those are comforting words. Especially if they come from someone who does know what we need when we are in need.
Like moms. “I know that you are hungry. Here is a bedtime snack for your empty stomach.” (Of course, the point of starvation only hits the moment it is time to hit the hay. Moms know that stall tactic too. But they can’t let their little one go to sleep with their belly touching their backbone.)
Like doctors. “I know that you are hurting. Here is a bigtime antibiotic for your cold symptoms.”
But while that may be the case at times with a parent or a professional, is it that way every time? We wonder if that is true exactly or entirely. Does anyone actually know what I need specifically or definitely?
Jesus does. He knows all things. He makes that plain as he deals with a paralytic.
It was standing room only that day in Capernaum maybe like Super Bowl media day and the reporters join the mob to get at the athletes to ask them those deep, probing questions like, “Do you like the weather in Minnesota?” (They are playing the 52nd annual game inside. It is immaterial.) Those individuals in that city heard that Jesus was back in town and back at home (Mk 2:1).
As it often happened, a huge crowd headed to where Jesus was. The result was: “There was no room left, not even outside the door” (Mk 2:2). (That is going to be an essential detail in a minute.) Jesus didn’t get angry or upset. He took advantage of the situation—in a good way. “He preached the word to them” (Mk 2:2). Jesus met their need. He kept on speaking to them the gospel, the good news—who he was and why he had come. He was the promised Savior from sin.
How critical it is for us to listen to Jesus from the mouths of his messengers or in the pages in print. Open your ears in public worship and your Bibles in private worship. Jesus is talking to you. And listen.
There were four men with strong backs and big muscles as well as strong desires and big hopes. They had to get to Jesus because of love. Because there was a fifth man, their friend, on a cot-like stretcher. His legs didn’t work so he let them lug him to Jesus (Mk 2:3). That is as much as we know about him. A condition from birth? A consequence of wildness? It doesn’t matter. He couldn’t walk. Enough said.
But the entrance was completely blocked. They could they get at or to Jesus. But that didn’t stop them. They got relatively creative and suddenly made the house handicap accessible. Houses back then had flat roofs and perhaps outside stairs leading to the top. I am not a contractor, but there were beams over which were planks (2 x 4s or 2 x5s—whatever it took) and covered with clay or straw. There were no shingles or shakes.
Anyway, they made a hole (Mk 1:4). Picture it while Jesus is talking. First the pitter-patter of feet above followed by the sound of scratching. Then the dust and dirt falling down. And then they “lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on” (Mk 2:4). The interruption did not disturb Jesus. It delighted him. “Jesus saw their faith” (Mk 2:5). That is, the genuine trust of all five of them. Jesus knew what was in their heart.
Take note of that. Jesus knows your faith. He smiles at your persistent, insistent reliance on him. Because it is not misplaced. Jesus knows what is in your heart.
Jesus’ initial statement to this man might seem strange. “Son, your sins are forgiven” (Mk 2:5). But it should not be surprising. First the soul—so that he could stand before God. It would be like a surgeon after you have been injured in a skiing accident. He will set the ankle before he stitches your cheek. He takes care of what is primary and then heads to the secondary.
Jesus knew THE need that was troubling him most. “Son (literally child—it was a term of endearment), your sins are sent away.” Gone. Not some or several sins, but all. It was the psalmist whom the choir quoted earlier: “Praise the LORD, O my soul, … who forgives all your sins” (Ps 103:2,3). And then David depicts it: “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us” (Ps 103:12). All the rebellion and revolt are long gone. The ruined relationship is restored. Jesus knew THE need of the soul and he took care of it with forgiveness.
It could be when we are lying on our bed at night or driving our car at noon. And then it comes to mind. A recent sin or a reoccurring sin. We had forgotten about it or have been fighting against it. It makes no difference. It haunts us. And it is hard. All of a sudden we are wide awake or wide-eyed. Whether sweating or crying, we are glad that no one knows. Or if they can at least keep it quiet.
But Jesus knows (He 4:13). We can actually be relieved that he does. Because he knows what we need. “Son [or daughter—recall “child.” Who doesn’t want to forgive a child? Jesus does.], your sins are forgiven” (Mk 2:5). And it is as if you are the only one at the moment—son, not sons, daughter, not daughters.
Jesus sends them all off. He does it at the font, in the Supper, in the Word. Not many or most sins, but all. We might think of it this way. We put our garbage out at the curb. When the garbage men come and take it away, we don’t go to the dump to reclaim it. It was God who guaranteed: “I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more” (Is 43:25). He wipes them away from our account and wipes them off our record. (It would be nice if a bank would cancel a car loan like that.) Jesus did that by dragging them all to the cross and dying for them there. And he will not bring them back or bring them up ever again. Jesus knows THE need and he did away with it for you and me. To which we reply, “Amen. It is true.” As the apostle Paul reminded us: “And so through him [that is, through Jesus] the ‘Amen’ is spoken by us to the glory of God” (2 Co 1:20). We add our voice to the psalm writer: “All my inmost being, praise his holy name” (Ps 103:1).
But it was a mixed multitude. Not all there were friendly. There were the foes who were spying and snooping, possibly in their front row seats. Their attitude is inexcusable. “Now some teachers of the law were sitting there, thinking to themselves, ‘Why does this fellow talk like that? He’s blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?’” (Mk 2:6,7). These experts in the law were carefully considering the occurrence, turning it over in their minds. It was not complimentary or kind, but disparaging and disapproving. “Who does this one think he is?” He is slandering God—giving him a bad name—by claiming to be equal to God. They were right. God is the only One who can forgive sins. But they were wrong. They didn’t recognize that Jesus was God. Fifty percent is still failing.
Jesus wasted no time in tutoring them. He knew. “Immediately Jesus knew in his spirit that this was what they were thinking in their hearts, and he said to them, “Why are you thinking these things?” (Mk 2:8). Jesus calls them on their thoughts. That should have frightened them.
And then the two-part question: “Which is easier: to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk’?” (Mk 2:9). Which of the two required less effort? In a sense, both are difficult and something only God can do..
“Your sins are forgiven” (Mk 2:9). That is hard because there is no demonstration. Just words. No verification or validation.
“Get up, take your mat and walk” (Mk 2:9). That is hard because there has to be a demonstration. A miracle.
“But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins . . . .” (Mk 2:10). That is Jesus’ favorite designation for himself—the Son of Man (Da 7:13,14). He is true God, but also true man—identifying with the ones whom he came to rescue, taking on our flesh and blood. As such, he knew the need of the body after THE need of the soul.
Then Jesus breaks off the conversation with them and goes back to the lame man. If Jesus can do one, he can do the other. So Jesus backed up an important affirmation—“ Son, your sins are forgiven” (Mk 9:5)—with an impressive action. Three short commands. “He said to the paralytic, ‘I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home’” (Mk 2:10,11). And three short acts. “He got up, took his mat and walked out in full view of them all” (Mk 2:12). It was instantaneous and immediate. He didn’t have to warm up or stretch out his muscles. No Pilates or yoga. He merely walked out in front of them all, hauling his mat with him. He wouldn’t have use for it anymore. I recently got new tires for my bike. Yes. I had them put them on. $8/tire saved me 8 hours of frustration—only to waste the time of heading back to the repair shop to have them mount them anyway. I brought the old ones home. I have no idea why. I don’t plan on using them again.
All this had an effect on the assembly. “This amazed everyone and they praised God, saying, ‘We have never seen anything like this!’” (Mk 2:12). They were beside themselves trying to take this scene all in. It was difficult to put it all together. Perhaps there will be a play in US Bank Stadium where we will have the same reaction (or at least a 5 million dollar, 30-second commercial [That number in itself is hard to grasp.]). But they gave honor where honor was due—to God.
And we do too. We all have our own pains and problems. It may not be paralysis. But it is significant and serious—from the ailing flu to failing health, and everything in between. It could be self-inflicted or sin-inflicted—something that we have brought on ourselves in particular or something that sin brings in general. Jesus knows that need. And as David reminded us: The LORD “heals all your diseases” (Ps 103:3).
What? Really? We get over a sickness. We even go into remission from cancer. But what about what is chronic and constant? That too. If he allows something to linger, he gets us to realize our total dependence on him. He strengthens us with patience and perseverance until the day when he ushers us to our perfect home in heaven where our bodies will be transformed like his glorious body (Php 3:21)—free of disease or death. We long for that as we look to him as he assures us that all things work in harmony for our ultimate good. As Paul penned to the Christians in Corinth: “For no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ.” (2 Co 1:20). Jesus knows the need after THE need.
What mommies and doctors know in part, Jesus knows perfectly. Jesus knows THE need of our soul—pardon for our sins. And he provides it. He knows the need of our body—his power and presence. And he provides that too. That is calming: Jesus knows. Happy Epiphany.
We read from Mark 2:1-12:
1 A few days later, when Jesus again entered Capernaum, the people heard that he had come home.
2 So many gathered that there was no room left, not even outside the door, and he preached the word to them.
3 Some men came, bringing to him a paralytic, carried by four of them.
4 Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on.
5 When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”
6 Now some teachers of the law were sitting there, thinking to themselves,
7 “Why does this fellow talk like that? He’s blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?”
8 Immediately Jesus knew in his spirit that this was what they were thinking in their hearts, and he said to them, “Why are you thinking these things?
9 Which is easier: to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk’?
10 But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins . . . .” He said to the paralytic,
11 “I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.”
12 He got up, took his mat and walked out in full view of them all. This amazed everyone and they praised God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this!”
May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all (2 Co 13:14). Amen.
February 4, 2018
“I know.” Those are comforting words. Especially if they come from someone who does know what we need when we are in need.
Like moms. “I know that you are hungry. Here is a bedtime snack for your empty stomach.” (Of course, the point of starvation only hits the moment it is time to hit the hay. Moms know that stall tactic too. But they can’t let their little one go to sleep with their belly touching their backbone.)
Like doctors. “I know that you are hurting. Here is a bigtime antibiotic for your cold symptoms.”
But while that may be the case at times with a parent or a professional, is it that way every time? We wonder if that is true exactly or entirely. Does anyone actually know what I need specifically or definitely?
Jesus does. He knows all things. He makes that plain as he deals with a paralytic.
It was standing room only that day in Capernaum maybe like Super Bowl media day and the reporters join the mob to get at the athletes to ask them those deep, probing questions like, “Do you like the weather in Minnesota?” (They are playing the 52nd annual game inside. It is immaterial.) Those individuals in that city heard that Jesus was back in town and back at home (Mk 2:1).
As it often happened, a huge crowd headed to where Jesus was. The result was: “There was no room left, not even outside the door” (Mk 2:2). (That is going to be an essential detail in a minute.) Jesus didn’t get angry or upset. He took advantage of the situation—in a good way. “He preached the word to them” (Mk 2:2). Jesus met their need. He kept on speaking to them the gospel, the good news—who he was and why he had come. He was the promised Savior from sin.
How critical it is for us to listen to Jesus from the mouths of his messengers or in the pages in print. Open your ears in public worship and your Bibles in private worship. Jesus is talking to you. And listen.
There were four men with strong backs and big muscles as well as strong desires and big hopes. They had to get to Jesus because of love. Because there was a fifth man, their friend, on a cot-like stretcher. His legs didn’t work so he let them lug him to Jesus (Mk 2:3). That is as much as we know about him. A condition from birth? A consequence of wildness? It doesn’t matter. He couldn’t walk. Enough said.
But the entrance was completely blocked. They could they get at or to Jesus. But that didn’t stop them. They got relatively creative and suddenly made the house handicap accessible. Houses back then had flat roofs and perhaps outside stairs leading to the top. I am not a contractor, but there were beams over which were planks (2 x 4s or 2 x5s—whatever it took) and covered with clay or straw. There were no shingles or shakes.
Anyway, they made a hole (Mk 1:4). Picture it while Jesus is talking. First the pitter-patter of feet above followed by the sound of scratching. Then the dust and dirt falling down. And then they “lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on” (Mk 2:4). The interruption did not disturb Jesus. It delighted him. “Jesus saw their faith” (Mk 2:5). That is, the genuine trust of all five of them. Jesus knew what was in their heart.
Take note of that. Jesus knows your faith. He smiles at your persistent, insistent reliance on him. Because it is not misplaced. Jesus knows what is in your heart.
Jesus’ initial statement to this man might seem strange. “Son, your sins are forgiven” (Mk 2:5). But it should not be surprising. First the soul—so that he could stand before God. It would be like a surgeon after you have been injured in a skiing accident. He will set the ankle before he stitches your cheek. He takes care of what is primary and then heads to the secondary.
Jesus knew THE need that was troubling him most. “Son (literally child—it was a term of endearment), your sins are sent away.” Gone. Not some or several sins, but all. It was the psalmist whom the choir quoted earlier: “Praise the LORD, O my soul, … who forgives all your sins” (Ps 103:2,3). And then David depicts it: “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us” (Ps 103:12). All the rebellion and revolt are long gone. The ruined relationship is restored. Jesus knew THE need of the soul and he took care of it with forgiveness.
It could be when we are lying on our bed at night or driving our car at noon. And then it comes to mind. A recent sin or a reoccurring sin. We had forgotten about it or have been fighting against it. It makes no difference. It haunts us. And it is hard. All of a sudden we are wide awake or wide-eyed. Whether sweating or crying, we are glad that no one knows. Or if they can at least keep it quiet.
But Jesus knows (He 4:13). We can actually be relieved that he does. Because he knows what we need. “Son [or daughter—recall “child.” Who doesn’t want to forgive a child? Jesus does.], your sins are forgiven” (Mk 2:5). And it is as if you are the only one at the moment—son, not sons, daughter, not daughters.
Jesus sends them all off. He does it at the font, in the Supper, in the Word. Not many or most sins, but all. We might think of it this way. We put our garbage out at the curb. When the garbage men come and take it away, we don’t go to the dump to reclaim it. It was God who guaranteed: “I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more” (Is 43:25). He wipes them away from our account and wipes them off our record. (It would be nice if a bank would cancel a car loan like that.) Jesus did that by dragging them all to the cross and dying for them there. And he will not bring them back or bring them up ever again. Jesus knows THE need and he did away with it for you and me. To which we reply, “Amen. It is true.” As the apostle Paul reminded us: “And so through him [that is, through Jesus] the ‘Amen’ is spoken by us to the glory of God” (2 Co 1:20). We add our voice to the psalm writer: “All my inmost being, praise his holy name” (Ps 103:1).
But it was a mixed multitude. Not all there were friendly. There were the foes who were spying and snooping, possibly in their front row seats. Their attitude is inexcusable. “Now some teachers of the law were sitting there, thinking to themselves, ‘Why does this fellow talk like that? He’s blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?’” (Mk 2:6,7). These experts in the law were carefully considering the occurrence, turning it over in their minds. It was not complimentary or kind, but disparaging and disapproving. “Who does this one think he is?” He is slandering God—giving him a bad name—by claiming to be equal to God. They were right. God is the only One who can forgive sins. But they were wrong. They didn’t recognize that Jesus was God. Fifty percent is still failing.
Jesus wasted no time in tutoring them. He knew. “Immediately Jesus knew in his spirit that this was what they were thinking in their hearts, and he said to them, “Why are you thinking these things?” (Mk 2:8). Jesus calls them on their thoughts. That should have frightened them.
And then the two-part question: “Which is easier: to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk’?” (Mk 2:9). Which of the two required less effort? In a sense, both are difficult and something only God can do..
“Your sins are forgiven” (Mk 2:9). That is hard because there is no demonstration. Just words. No verification or validation.
“Get up, take your mat and walk” (Mk 2:9). That is hard because there has to be a demonstration. A miracle.
“But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins . . . .” (Mk 2:10). That is Jesus’ favorite designation for himself—the Son of Man (Da 7:13,14). He is true God, but also true man—identifying with the ones whom he came to rescue, taking on our flesh and blood. As such, he knew the need of the body after THE need of the soul.
Then Jesus breaks off the conversation with them and goes back to the lame man. If Jesus can do one, he can do the other. So Jesus backed up an important affirmation—“ Son, your sins are forgiven” (Mk 9:5)—with an impressive action. Three short commands. “He said to the paralytic, ‘I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home’” (Mk 2:10,11). And three short acts. “He got up, took his mat and walked out in full view of them all” (Mk 2:12). It was instantaneous and immediate. He didn’t have to warm up or stretch out his muscles. No Pilates or yoga. He merely walked out in front of them all, hauling his mat with him. He wouldn’t have use for it anymore. I recently got new tires for my bike. Yes. I had them put them on. $8/tire saved me 8 hours of frustration—only to waste the time of heading back to the repair shop to have them mount them anyway. I brought the old ones home. I have no idea why. I don’t plan on using them again.
All this had an effect on the assembly. “This amazed everyone and they praised God, saying, ‘We have never seen anything like this!’” (Mk 2:12). They were beside themselves trying to take this scene all in. It was difficult to put it all together. Perhaps there will be a play in US Bank Stadium where we will have the same reaction (or at least a 5 million dollar, 30-second commercial [That number in itself is hard to grasp.]). But they gave honor where honor was due—to God.
And we do too. We all have our own pains and problems. It may not be paralysis. But it is significant and serious—from the ailing flu to failing health, and everything in between. It could be self-inflicted or sin-inflicted—something that we have brought on ourselves in particular or something that sin brings in general. Jesus knows that need. And as David reminded us: The LORD “heals all your diseases” (Ps 103:3).
What? Really? We get over a sickness. We even go into remission from cancer. But what about what is chronic and constant? That too. If he allows something to linger, he gets us to realize our total dependence on him. He strengthens us with patience and perseverance until the day when he ushers us to our perfect home in heaven where our bodies will be transformed like his glorious body (Php 3:21)—free of disease or death. We long for that as we look to him as he assures us that all things work in harmony for our ultimate good. As Paul penned to the Christians in Corinth: “For no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ.” (2 Co 1:20). Jesus knows the need after THE need.
What mommies and doctors know in part, Jesus knows perfectly. Jesus knows THE need of our soul—pardon for our sins. And he provides it. He knows the need of our body—his power and presence. And he provides that too. That is calming: Jesus knows. Happy Epiphany.
We read from Mark 2:1-12:
1 A few days later, when Jesus again entered Capernaum, the people heard that he had come home.
2 So many gathered that there was no room left, not even outside the door, and he preached the word to them.
3 Some men came, bringing to him a paralytic, carried by four of them.
4 Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on.
5 When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”
6 Now some teachers of the law were sitting there, thinking to themselves,
7 “Why does this fellow talk like that? He’s blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?”
8 Immediately Jesus knew in his spirit that this was what they were thinking in their hearts, and he said to them, “Why are you thinking these things?
9 Which is easier: to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk’?
10 But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins . . . .” He said to the paralytic,
11 “I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.”
12 He got up, took his mat and walked out in full view of them all. This amazed everyone and they praised God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this!”
May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all (2 Co 13:14). Amen.
February 4, 2018
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