No One Will Take Your Joy From You
Fifth Sunday of Easter
4/24/2016
John 16: 12-22
Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Three times, prior to the crucifixion, the Lord warns His disciples that He will be taken from them by betrayal, injustice, and violence. Then, after being killed, He will rise again on the third day. In today’s Gospel, He warns them in a different way. They draw near to the time when they will see Him no more. Then, after a while, they will see Him again. He knows the sorrow they will have at His death and the joy they will have at His resurrection. They will fail Him, but He will not fail them. They will be unfaithful and abandon Him, but He will return for them in perfect love and faithfulness, without anger, after He rises from the dead.
This is why confirmands and those who become members of Christ’s Church qualify their pledges with “by the grace of God.” By grace, we intend to hear the Word of God and to receive the Lord’s Supper faithfully. That is, we intend to come to church every single week to hear the preaching and receive the gifts God bestows on us. By grace, we intend to live free of sin, to keep God’s Law. We would rather die than sin. We have this intention by grace. We will fulfill this intention by grace OR not at all. If and when we fail, we will repent and throw ourselves again upon Christ’s mercy because He will not fail us.
In light of the Lord’s promises to the apostles and our own experience, thinking of what we and the apostles might need, we may ask ourselves, “Why, after the resurrection, does the risen Lord ascend to the Father instead of staying with the disciples here on earth?” For it might well seem as though Christ ought to have lived on earth with His disciples after the resurrection. We know that when they saw Him, as promised, that it confirmed their faith in the resurrection and in His love. It brought them comfort in their disturbed state. It banished fear. St. John says it with profound simplicity: They were glad when they saw the Lord.
So wouldn’t they have been more assured, more consoled, and more glad if He had stayed with them here on earth? And not only they, but so also we ourselves?
No. Because after the resurrection two things had to be manifested to the disciples: the truth of the resurrection and Christ’s glory. The truth of the resurrection was proved by several appearances and demonstrations of bodily reality, mainly through touching and eating. But in order to manifest the glory of the risen Christ, the Lord had to ascend. After the sacrifice was complete and His humiliation ended, He did not live with them, or with us, as He had before.
Hence, in Luke, chapter 24, He says, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you” (verse 44). He said that to them while He was with them in His body. They touched Him. He ate and drank with them. He is not a spirit or a ghost. He is a man, body and soul, risen from the dead, alive. But even as He says that, while He is with them in His risen body, He is not with them anymore in His humility. There has been a change. The Father has accepted the sacrifice. The Son is vindicated. As a man, He now uses, fully, all the time, His divine rights and attributes. He is with them still in His body, but no longer as a mortal, no longer racing toward death.
Christ’s frequent appearing in His body served to assure the disciples of the truth of the resurrection. But if He had continued in that presence, it might have confused them into thinking that there had been no real change, that He rose to the same life as He had lived before. So He departs, ascends, for their sakes, that they would know His glory and accept His new bodily presence in the breaking of the bread. By that new presence, established as the New Testament on the night when He was betrayed, He promises them comfort in another life. He didn’t rise to the same life He had lived before, and He doesn’t bestow upon us the same life we now live. He gives us, in the Holy Communion, life eternal. Thus, today’s Gospel: “I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”
That is the joy we are waiting for, eager and expecting. Jesus has given His life for ours yet now lives and is present among us in His body and blood, to bestow that new life and joy. Here is grace for confirmands and all of us to keep our vows: the bodily presence of the risen Christ, for each and every one of you, in the Holy Communion. By grace we have pledged, by grace we have promised, by grace we have made our confession. God keep us always in that true confession, trusting in His promises. Amen.
My Sheep Hear My Voice
4th Sunday of Easter
4/17/2016
John 10: 22-30
Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
The Lord is at the temple, walking, in the winter, and the Jews in the midst of partying are cold. We see again something of St. John’s storytelling ability. They circle Jesus like bees and feign some piety. “Tell us plainly,” they say, “whether you are the Christ. For you have caused us to doubt-literally, lifted our souls from us-“for too long.”
It is winter, and the earth seems dead. These men do not want an answer. They do not seek in piety. They are bored and cold. They want some sport. He has plainly said that He is the Messiah often enough for those with ears to hear. So also do His miracles and lift attest to the same: He is the Christ.
They are not doubting; they are unbelieving. There is a difference. The children of God, His own sheep, suffer doubt in this fallen life. All of us live with two minds, one faithful to God and one that pesters and hounds and mocks us. These men have no doubt. They have only boredom and hate.
In the face of this growing hostility, our Lord’s tenderness shines forth. They do not deserve these kind words, nor do we. But here is what He says:
“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.”
The people of Jerusalem are like sheep without shepherds. The rabbis have turned on them, abandoned the Messianic hope of sacrifice. The priests are servants of Caesar and of their own bellies. They do not want the Messiah. They want only the status quo, only living for the moment, unable to see what truly ails them. They do not think they need a Physician, a Shepherd, or a Lord. And the Lord looks upon them with compassion.
Despite these evil men of the City of Peace, there in Jerusalem His flock will hear His voice on Palm Sunday. The faithful will cry out, :”Hosanna, save us.” He will accept their praise and worship. For them, He, the stone that the builders rejected, will go to the cross to be their Savior, that they would have a good and faithful Shepherd.
They hear His voice, but, like us, they are easily misled and confused. It is likely that some of those who cried “Hosanna” on Sunday cried “crucify” on Friday, even as some of us cry “Hosanna” this morning and then proceed to hate our lives or despise our neighbors or treat our families shamefully. The builders pick up stones to kill the Messiah, to put an end to His reign through violence. The sheep are scattered once again.
Sheep without a shepherd, chicks without a mother, builders who choose their own material and reject the divine: This is humanity without the Christ. But the Shepherd is persistent. He never wavers. He walks in the temple, in Solomon’s porch, showing Himself despite the danger. He knows we need Him. He knows we are weak. He will not quit. He seeks the lost sheep of the house of Israel, even those who must be made sons of Abraham by faith. The-Jews and Gentiles alike-hear His voice and follow Him and receive eternal life, just as Weston Carl Darr has heard His Good Shepherd’s voice this morning.
Why else are you here? You have heard His voice. You have come to the sheepfold for fodder, for daily bread to feed your soul. You have heard His voice and have been given eternal life. No one can snatch you away from the Father’s hand. Just as our dear brother in Christ Carl Johnston has received eternal life as he was a sheep of the Good Shepherd, so too each of your, including Weston, have the sure and certain hope of life everlasting with your Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ. Amen.
In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
By The Charcoal Fire
3rd Sunday of Easter
4/10/2016
John 21: 1-19
Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
It’s been a couple of weeks now since Jesus rose from the dead and appeared to his disciples. Last Sunday, Jesus came and appeared to them a second time, on that occasion especially to bring Thomas to repent of his unbelief and confess his faith. Now today Jesus appears to the disciples-seven of them, at least-He appears to them a third time, this time not in Jerusalem, as on the previous two occasions, but now back up in Galilee, the home base for many of the disciples.
Jesus appears to them, unexpectedly, while they’re out on the lake in a boat, fishing, and he’s standing on the shore, standing by a charcoal fire He had made. They don’t know that it’s Jesus there on the shore, but He calls to them. What happens when we hear Jesus call us to come to Him “By the Charcoal Fire?”
Here’s how it came about. The disciples are back home, in Galilee, by the Sea of Tiberias, which you know better as the Sea of Galilee. There the disciples are, kind of biding their time while they’re waiting for further instructions from their risen Lord about what to do with their lives. In the meantime, they do what they know best how to do to put a little food on the table, which is to go back-at least temporarily-to their previous line of work as professional fishermen. “I’m going fishing,” Simon Peter declares. They haul out the net-they’re commercial fishermen, remember-and get in a boat big enough for the seven of them, and they’re out all night, plying their trade, which they know very well, and they know these waters like the back of their hand.
But of course, they work all night, and they catch nothing. Some nights are like that, I suppose, in the fishing business. They’re tired, they’re exhausted, they’re frustrated, I’m sure.
By now it’s dawn, very early in the morning, and, lo and behold, some guy is standing on the shore. They can’t make out who it is. They’re out on the lake, about a football field away from the shore. The fellow on the beach calls out to them across the water: “Children, do you have any fish?” They’ve got to answer, “No.” “Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” What, are you kidding me? We’ve just been working all night, using all our skills and know-how, and we’ve come up empty! Don’t you think we know what we’re doing? We’re pros at this, buddy! Who are you to give us advice on fishing? Who do you think you are?
So the disciples put in their net, as the man said, and-bam!-there’s this big catch of fish. Suddenly one of the disciples figures out who is standing on the shore: It’s the Lord!” John cries. With that, Peter, always the impetuous one, dives right in the water and swims to shore, so eager is he to see Jesus. The rest of the guys come following in the boat.
They get on shore, and they see Jesus there by the charcoal fire, and-surprise!-he already has some fish of his own on the fire. How did he get those fish anyhow? And he has some bread. He invites them to eat. Remember the feeding of the multitudes, when Jesus multiplied the loaves and fishes? Yes, this Jesus is the Lord of creation, the eternal Son of God, by whom all the fish in the sea and all the grains of the earth were created in the first place.
But a lot has happened in the last few weeks. Simon Peter, like you denying his Lord-three times!-on that night a few weeks back. That night when he so proudly declared that even if all the others should desert the Master, he would never do something like that. Yet, just a little while later . . . the garden, and the arrest, and then following to the courtyard, and, and . . . “I am not one of his disciples!” And again: “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” And a third time: “I tell you, I don’t know the man!”
Three times, denying Jesus, out in that courtyard, there by that . . . there by that charcoal fire! You see, on the night when Peter denied Jesus, he was standing by a charcoal fire. Now, here he is again, standing by a charcoal fire. In fact, the Greek word for “charcoal fire,” “anthrakia,” from which we get our word “anthracite”–the word “anthrakia” occurs only two times in the whole New Testament: first in the courtyard scene of Peter’s denial in John 18, and now here in John 21, on the shore with Jesus and Peter standing together by this charcoal fire that Jesus has prepared.
If it seems like Jesus may have done this for a reason, that becomes even more clear with what happens next. Three times Peter had denied his Lord by a charcoal fire. Now, three times, Jesus will restore his denying disciple, again by a charcoal fire. “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” “Feed my lambs.” “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” “Tend my sheep.” “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”
Yes, Simon Peter, your three denials have been forgiven, three times over. Your sins are forgiven, you’re being restored to your position, and you’ll have some good work to do now, Peter, which the Lord will bless. For some things have happened in between. In between the two charcoal fires, the one in the courtyard and the one on the shore. In between Peter’s denials and, now, Peter’s restoration. In between, Jesus has gone to the cross, where He, the Son of God, purchased Peter’s forgiveness–and yours. Yes, Jesus has been our mediator, making peace between God and sinful man by His holy blood, shed on our behalf. This is how Jesus can forgive Peter’s denials–and ours. Risen from the dead–which was also very early in the morning, “just as day was breaking”–our resurrected Lord Jesus still stands by his charcoal fire, calling all of His denying, deserting, fallen disciples to come to Him and be forgiven and be restored.
How about you? How have you denied your Lord, like Peter did? Or are you thinking you are better than Peter? No, that’s not true. I’ve been just like him, too many times, denying Christ by my words and actions, surrendering to the pressures of the world. Denying him also by my failures to speak, and by my inactions. Like Simon Peter, you and I have denied our Lord Jesus more times than we can count. Some in particular may stand out in our minds and memory, like those times in the courtyard did for Peter.
But the good news today is this: Jesus is calling you over to Himself, by the charcoal fire. Hear His voice, and come and receive your forgiveness. Jesus is restoring you today. No matter how many times you have fallen, Jesus will pick you up. He is restoring you to Himself, and He has some good work for you to do, which He will bless. He will bless whatever He is calling you to do, in His name, according to your vocation in life–in church, at home, at work, in your family, in your community.
And Jesus has something to give you, to give you strength as you go on to serve in his name. Children, do you have anything to eat? Yes, you do. Jesus has it already laid out for you. It is His holy Body and Blood, given for you to eat and to drink in His Blessed Sacrament. Come and eat. Come and be forgiven. Come and be restored. For Jesus is here, dear friends, and the charcoal fire of forgiveness is still burning.
Peace Be With You
2nd Sunday of Easter
4/3/2016
John 20: 19-31
Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
We are bound to praise God for the goodness of this creation, for the joys of this earthly life, for trees and flowers and streams and mountains.
So also we are bound to praise God for the gift of His Son upon the cross, for His being lifted up from the earth to finished death’s reign of terror, hell’s constant threats and sting, and Satan’s accusations. He is the Paschal Lamb who was offered on our behalf, who blood is smeared upon our tongues, that the angel of death passes over while we are safe and secure in the arms of our Father.
But chiefly-chiefly-are we bound to praise God for the glorious resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. In His dying, He has destroyed death. By His rising, He has restored us to everlasting life.
It is finished, perfected, and complete on the cross. The Father’s wrath has been satiated in the death of the Son. He is no longer forsaken. Hell has had its fill. Death spits Him out like the whale spitting Jonah out upon the dry ground. Hell is repulsed from Him as the Red Sea withdrew from the children of Israel and allowed them to pass by on dry ground.
Is He not a weed, a shoot that has shot up from dry ground? And yet, He is not dead, not parched. He is risen. He lives, and from His side come His lifeblood and water for the Church, born out of death, born from above, born alive.
And thus are we bound chiefly to praise Him for His resurrection. As glorious as His death is, His life is more glorious. We preach Christ crucified. And yet the Church’s main proclamation remains, “He is risen.”
We see this in St. Thomas. The disciples had been warned about the resurrection. Even is the emphasis of the prophets and the Law was mainly on the sacrificial death of the Messiah, the Lord Himself had prophesied clearly that He would rise and when. But on top of this, by Easter evening they had had the reports of the women. They had been told that the grave had been opened and was empty except for angels announcing that it was as Jesus had said and that He is risen. Peter and John confirmed it. Then there were the two on their way to Emmaus, one of whom was probably St. Peter himself. And there was Mary Magdalene. So the two disciples on the road to Emmaus and Mary make at least three who had seen more than an empty tomb and angels. They had seen the risen Lord. All this had been reported in detail to the ten gathered in the upper room on Easter evening. But still they did not believe. Still, they were afraid.
It is difficult to imagine why? Not if we are honest about our own sinful flesh and the power it has over us. It might be unreasonable, but certainly for us-who sin so frequently and grievously, who find a thousand ways to excuse ourselves, and who fear almost everything that walks this earth and even the things of our imaginations more than we fear the Lord-it should not be unimaginable. Repent. When it comes to unbelief, prejudice, and pride, the disciples have nothing on us.
But the Lord came to them despite their unbelief and fear, or maybe because of it. He stood in their midst. Locked doors and sealed stones do not keep His body out. He comes to them in the flesh, and He bestows His peaceful spirit upon them with a word.
Yet a week later, with Thomas in pace, the disciples’ failure is much the same. We call these besetting sins, or pet sins, or just plain habits of sin. Again, it is fear of the Jews that causes them to lock the doors. The Holy Spirit has been bestowed upon them, already a week ago. The Lord has instituted and established the apostolic ministry. They have their marching orders. How, then, can they still be so unsure and afraid? Because they still abide in this fallen flesh, because the Holy Absolution, for the time being, removes guilt but not memory, consequence, or temptation.
The cure for this is the Word and the body of Jesus. They suffer from besetting sins. The Lord responds with besetting grace, abiding grace, a constant and ready application of His Word and body. The words here are “Peace be with you,” which is shorthand for the whole counsel of God and His mercy. They body is the body crucified, marked by those hateful nails that held Him in place. But the body crucified is alive, raised up again, joined back to His soul. That the Lord is risen is meaningless if He had not really been killed. If He had not been sacrificed on the cross, we would still be in our sins, even as we would still be in them if He were not raised.
Thus, Thomas is invited to see if those marks are real, that is, if this is really Jesus who really died as a sacrifice and is really back from the dead-and-pay attention sinners!-to see if God has changed. For the perfected bodies of the saints bear no scars, but the risen Lord bears these. Thomas is not directed to look to the Lord’s back marked by the Roman scourge or to His brow to see if there are marks from the thorns. He is pointed to the hands and side, to see what the cross has done to God in the flesh.
Has the cross changed God? Indeed. Yes! Is has. It left marks.
To say that God does not change is to try and imagine God from His own perspective instead of ours and that of Holy Scripture. God’s anger has been appeased. His wrath has been satisfied. We are not His enemies or rebels against Him. He is risen, come back alive from what we did to Him, but He seeks no revenge.
Notice this: Jesus submits to Thomas’ ridiculous demands in perfect and steadfast mercy. From our perspective, which is the only one we can really know, as recorded in Scriptures, we see and receive a change in God. He changes from wrath to mercy.
Yet this is none other than the God of Moses and Sinai. What was foreshown in shadowy form there is made clear in the incarnation. Jesus the Messiah is the mercy seat. He stands between us and the broken Law. He is the Lord who is eternal and without beginning, but He now has a beginning in the virgin Mary and is created. He is changed in the cross and crucifixion, but we would not know it if He was not risen. He has done that which never will be done again. And now the ransom is paid, and He has instituted a new covenant in His blood. Wonder of wonders. He gives us His blood to drink, His body to eat! That which ought never to be done, because the life is in the blood, is now done, is given, and thereby God gives His life to us. The flow of the temple’s blood has come to an end as Jesus’ blood flows down our throats and upon our hearts. The temple is finished. The Law is finished. Death and hell and Satan and demons and disease are finished. For He is risen.
Thus are we chiefly bound to praise Him for his glorious resurrection from the dead. He is in our midst, according to His promise, in His risen, living, physical body, speaking peace, forgiving sins, feeding saints, and encouraging faith. No locked doors, no fallen flesh will keep Him out. Amen.
Fifth Sunday of Easter
4/24/2016
John 16: 12-22
Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Three times, prior to the crucifixion, the Lord warns His disciples that He will be taken from them by betrayal, injustice, and violence. Then, after being killed, He will rise again on the third day. In today’s Gospel, He warns them in a different way. They draw near to the time when they will see Him no more. Then, after a while, they will see Him again. He knows the sorrow they will have at His death and the joy they will have at His resurrection. They will fail Him, but He will not fail them. They will be unfaithful and abandon Him, but He will return for them in perfect love and faithfulness, without anger, after He rises from the dead.
This is why confirmands and those who become members of Christ’s Church qualify their pledges with “by the grace of God.” By grace, we intend to hear the Word of God and to receive the Lord’s Supper faithfully. That is, we intend to come to church every single week to hear the preaching and receive the gifts God bestows on us. By grace, we intend to live free of sin, to keep God’s Law. We would rather die than sin. We have this intention by grace. We will fulfill this intention by grace OR not at all. If and when we fail, we will repent and throw ourselves again upon Christ’s mercy because He will not fail us.
In light of the Lord’s promises to the apostles and our own experience, thinking of what we and the apostles might need, we may ask ourselves, “Why, after the resurrection, does the risen Lord ascend to the Father instead of staying with the disciples here on earth?” For it might well seem as though Christ ought to have lived on earth with His disciples after the resurrection. We know that when they saw Him, as promised, that it confirmed their faith in the resurrection and in His love. It brought them comfort in their disturbed state. It banished fear. St. John says it with profound simplicity: They were glad when they saw the Lord.
So wouldn’t they have been more assured, more consoled, and more glad if He had stayed with them here on earth? And not only they, but so also we ourselves?
No. Because after the resurrection two things had to be manifested to the disciples: the truth of the resurrection and Christ’s glory. The truth of the resurrection was proved by several appearances and demonstrations of bodily reality, mainly through touching and eating. But in order to manifest the glory of the risen Christ, the Lord had to ascend. After the sacrifice was complete and His humiliation ended, He did not live with them, or with us, as He had before.
Hence, in Luke, chapter 24, He says, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you” (verse 44). He said that to them while He was with them in His body. They touched Him. He ate and drank with them. He is not a spirit or a ghost. He is a man, body and soul, risen from the dead, alive. But even as He says that, while He is with them in His risen body, He is not with them anymore in His humility. There has been a change. The Father has accepted the sacrifice. The Son is vindicated. As a man, He now uses, fully, all the time, His divine rights and attributes. He is with them still in His body, but no longer as a mortal, no longer racing toward death.
Christ’s frequent appearing in His body served to assure the disciples of the truth of the resurrection. But if He had continued in that presence, it might have confused them into thinking that there had been no real change, that He rose to the same life as He had lived before. So He departs, ascends, for their sakes, that they would know His glory and accept His new bodily presence in the breaking of the bread. By that new presence, established as the New Testament on the night when He was betrayed, He promises them comfort in another life. He didn’t rise to the same life He had lived before, and He doesn’t bestow upon us the same life we now live. He gives us, in the Holy Communion, life eternal. Thus, today’s Gospel: “I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”
That is the joy we are waiting for, eager and expecting. Jesus has given His life for ours yet now lives and is present among us in His body and blood, to bestow that new life and joy. Here is grace for confirmands and all of us to keep our vows: the bodily presence of the risen Christ, for each and every one of you, in the Holy Communion. By grace we have pledged, by grace we have promised, by grace we have made our confession. God keep us always in that true confession, trusting in His promises. Amen.
My Sheep Hear My Voice
4th Sunday of Easter
4/17/2016
John 10: 22-30
Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
The Lord is at the temple, walking, in the winter, and the Jews in the midst of partying are cold. We see again something of St. John’s storytelling ability. They circle Jesus like bees and feign some piety. “Tell us plainly,” they say, “whether you are the Christ. For you have caused us to doubt-literally, lifted our souls from us-“for too long.”
It is winter, and the earth seems dead. These men do not want an answer. They do not seek in piety. They are bored and cold. They want some sport. He has plainly said that He is the Messiah often enough for those with ears to hear. So also do His miracles and lift attest to the same: He is the Christ.
They are not doubting; they are unbelieving. There is a difference. The children of God, His own sheep, suffer doubt in this fallen life. All of us live with two minds, one faithful to God and one that pesters and hounds and mocks us. These men have no doubt. They have only boredom and hate.
In the face of this growing hostility, our Lord’s tenderness shines forth. They do not deserve these kind words, nor do we. But here is what He says:
“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.”
The people of Jerusalem are like sheep without shepherds. The rabbis have turned on them, abandoned the Messianic hope of sacrifice. The priests are servants of Caesar and of their own bellies. They do not want the Messiah. They want only the status quo, only living for the moment, unable to see what truly ails them. They do not think they need a Physician, a Shepherd, or a Lord. And the Lord looks upon them with compassion.
Despite these evil men of the City of Peace, there in Jerusalem His flock will hear His voice on Palm Sunday. The faithful will cry out, :”Hosanna, save us.” He will accept their praise and worship. For them, He, the stone that the builders rejected, will go to the cross to be their Savior, that they would have a good and faithful Shepherd.
They hear His voice, but, like us, they are easily misled and confused. It is likely that some of those who cried “Hosanna” on Sunday cried “crucify” on Friday, even as some of us cry “Hosanna” this morning and then proceed to hate our lives or despise our neighbors or treat our families shamefully. The builders pick up stones to kill the Messiah, to put an end to His reign through violence. The sheep are scattered once again.
Sheep without a shepherd, chicks without a mother, builders who choose their own material and reject the divine: This is humanity without the Christ. But the Shepherd is persistent. He never wavers. He walks in the temple, in Solomon’s porch, showing Himself despite the danger. He knows we need Him. He knows we are weak. He will not quit. He seeks the lost sheep of the house of Israel, even those who must be made sons of Abraham by faith. The-Jews and Gentiles alike-hear His voice and follow Him and receive eternal life, just as Weston Carl Darr has heard His Good Shepherd’s voice this morning.
Why else are you here? You have heard His voice. You have come to the sheepfold for fodder, for daily bread to feed your soul. You have heard His voice and have been given eternal life. No one can snatch you away from the Father’s hand. Just as our dear brother in Christ Carl Johnston has received eternal life as he was a sheep of the Good Shepherd, so too each of your, including Weston, have the sure and certain hope of life everlasting with your Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ. Amen.
In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
By The Charcoal Fire
3rd Sunday of Easter
4/10/2016
John 21: 1-19
Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
It’s been a couple of weeks now since Jesus rose from the dead and appeared to his disciples. Last Sunday, Jesus came and appeared to them a second time, on that occasion especially to bring Thomas to repent of his unbelief and confess his faith. Now today Jesus appears to the disciples-seven of them, at least-He appears to them a third time, this time not in Jerusalem, as on the previous two occasions, but now back up in Galilee, the home base for many of the disciples.
Jesus appears to them, unexpectedly, while they’re out on the lake in a boat, fishing, and he’s standing on the shore, standing by a charcoal fire He had made. They don’t know that it’s Jesus there on the shore, but He calls to them. What happens when we hear Jesus call us to come to Him “By the Charcoal Fire?”
Here’s how it came about. The disciples are back home, in Galilee, by the Sea of Tiberias, which you know better as the Sea of Galilee. There the disciples are, kind of biding their time while they’re waiting for further instructions from their risen Lord about what to do with their lives. In the meantime, they do what they know best how to do to put a little food on the table, which is to go back-at least temporarily-to their previous line of work as professional fishermen. “I’m going fishing,” Simon Peter declares. They haul out the net-they’re commercial fishermen, remember-and get in a boat big enough for the seven of them, and they’re out all night, plying their trade, which they know very well, and they know these waters like the back of their hand.
But of course, they work all night, and they catch nothing. Some nights are like that, I suppose, in the fishing business. They’re tired, they’re exhausted, they’re frustrated, I’m sure.
By now it’s dawn, very early in the morning, and, lo and behold, some guy is standing on the shore. They can’t make out who it is. They’re out on the lake, about a football field away from the shore. The fellow on the beach calls out to them across the water: “Children, do you have any fish?” They’ve got to answer, “No.” “Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” What, are you kidding me? We’ve just been working all night, using all our skills and know-how, and we’ve come up empty! Don’t you think we know what we’re doing? We’re pros at this, buddy! Who are you to give us advice on fishing? Who do you think you are?
So the disciples put in their net, as the man said, and-bam!-there’s this big catch of fish. Suddenly one of the disciples figures out who is standing on the shore: It’s the Lord!” John cries. With that, Peter, always the impetuous one, dives right in the water and swims to shore, so eager is he to see Jesus. The rest of the guys come following in the boat.
They get on shore, and they see Jesus there by the charcoal fire, and-surprise!-he already has some fish of his own on the fire. How did he get those fish anyhow? And he has some bread. He invites them to eat. Remember the feeding of the multitudes, when Jesus multiplied the loaves and fishes? Yes, this Jesus is the Lord of creation, the eternal Son of God, by whom all the fish in the sea and all the grains of the earth were created in the first place.
But a lot has happened in the last few weeks. Simon Peter, like you denying his Lord-three times!-on that night a few weeks back. That night when he so proudly declared that even if all the others should desert the Master, he would never do something like that. Yet, just a little while later . . . the garden, and the arrest, and then following to the courtyard, and, and . . . “I am not one of his disciples!” And again: “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” And a third time: “I tell you, I don’t know the man!”
Three times, denying Jesus, out in that courtyard, there by that . . . there by that charcoal fire! You see, on the night when Peter denied Jesus, he was standing by a charcoal fire. Now, here he is again, standing by a charcoal fire. In fact, the Greek word for “charcoal fire,” “anthrakia,” from which we get our word “anthracite”–the word “anthrakia” occurs only two times in the whole New Testament: first in the courtyard scene of Peter’s denial in John 18, and now here in John 21, on the shore with Jesus and Peter standing together by this charcoal fire that Jesus has prepared.
If it seems like Jesus may have done this for a reason, that becomes even more clear with what happens next. Three times Peter had denied his Lord by a charcoal fire. Now, three times, Jesus will restore his denying disciple, again by a charcoal fire. “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” “Feed my lambs.” “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” “Tend my sheep.” “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”
Yes, Simon Peter, your three denials have been forgiven, three times over. Your sins are forgiven, you’re being restored to your position, and you’ll have some good work to do now, Peter, which the Lord will bless. For some things have happened in between. In between the two charcoal fires, the one in the courtyard and the one on the shore. In between Peter’s denials and, now, Peter’s restoration. In between, Jesus has gone to the cross, where He, the Son of God, purchased Peter’s forgiveness–and yours. Yes, Jesus has been our mediator, making peace between God and sinful man by His holy blood, shed on our behalf. This is how Jesus can forgive Peter’s denials–and ours. Risen from the dead–which was also very early in the morning, “just as day was breaking”–our resurrected Lord Jesus still stands by his charcoal fire, calling all of His denying, deserting, fallen disciples to come to Him and be forgiven and be restored.
How about you? How have you denied your Lord, like Peter did? Or are you thinking you are better than Peter? No, that’s not true. I’ve been just like him, too many times, denying Christ by my words and actions, surrendering to the pressures of the world. Denying him also by my failures to speak, and by my inactions. Like Simon Peter, you and I have denied our Lord Jesus more times than we can count. Some in particular may stand out in our minds and memory, like those times in the courtyard did for Peter.
But the good news today is this: Jesus is calling you over to Himself, by the charcoal fire. Hear His voice, and come and receive your forgiveness. Jesus is restoring you today. No matter how many times you have fallen, Jesus will pick you up. He is restoring you to Himself, and He has some good work for you to do, which He will bless. He will bless whatever He is calling you to do, in His name, according to your vocation in life–in church, at home, at work, in your family, in your community.
And Jesus has something to give you, to give you strength as you go on to serve in his name. Children, do you have anything to eat? Yes, you do. Jesus has it already laid out for you. It is His holy Body and Blood, given for you to eat and to drink in His Blessed Sacrament. Come and eat. Come and be forgiven. Come and be restored. For Jesus is here, dear friends, and the charcoal fire of forgiveness is still burning.
Peace Be With You
2nd Sunday of Easter
4/3/2016
John 20: 19-31
Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
We are bound to praise God for the goodness of this creation, for the joys of this earthly life, for trees and flowers and streams and mountains.
So also we are bound to praise God for the gift of His Son upon the cross, for His being lifted up from the earth to finished death’s reign of terror, hell’s constant threats and sting, and Satan’s accusations. He is the Paschal Lamb who was offered on our behalf, who blood is smeared upon our tongues, that the angel of death passes over while we are safe and secure in the arms of our Father.
But chiefly-chiefly-are we bound to praise God for the glorious resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. In His dying, He has destroyed death. By His rising, He has restored us to everlasting life.
It is finished, perfected, and complete on the cross. The Father’s wrath has been satiated in the death of the Son. He is no longer forsaken. Hell has had its fill. Death spits Him out like the whale spitting Jonah out upon the dry ground. Hell is repulsed from Him as the Red Sea withdrew from the children of Israel and allowed them to pass by on dry ground.
Is He not a weed, a shoot that has shot up from dry ground? And yet, He is not dead, not parched. He is risen. He lives, and from His side come His lifeblood and water for the Church, born out of death, born from above, born alive.
And thus are we bound chiefly to praise Him for His resurrection. As glorious as His death is, His life is more glorious. We preach Christ crucified. And yet the Church’s main proclamation remains, “He is risen.”
We see this in St. Thomas. The disciples had been warned about the resurrection. Even is the emphasis of the prophets and the Law was mainly on the sacrificial death of the Messiah, the Lord Himself had prophesied clearly that He would rise and when. But on top of this, by Easter evening they had had the reports of the women. They had been told that the grave had been opened and was empty except for angels announcing that it was as Jesus had said and that He is risen. Peter and John confirmed it. Then there were the two on their way to Emmaus, one of whom was probably St. Peter himself. And there was Mary Magdalene. So the two disciples on the road to Emmaus and Mary make at least three who had seen more than an empty tomb and angels. They had seen the risen Lord. All this had been reported in detail to the ten gathered in the upper room on Easter evening. But still they did not believe. Still, they were afraid.
It is difficult to imagine why? Not if we are honest about our own sinful flesh and the power it has over us. It might be unreasonable, but certainly for us-who sin so frequently and grievously, who find a thousand ways to excuse ourselves, and who fear almost everything that walks this earth and even the things of our imaginations more than we fear the Lord-it should not be unimaginable. Repent. When it comes to unbelief, prejudice, and pride, the disciples have nothing on us.
But the Lord came to them despite their unbelief and fear, or maybe because of it. He stood in their midst. Locked doors and sealed stones do not keep His body out. He comes to them in the flesh, and He bestows His peaceful spirit upon them with a word.
Yet a week later, with Thomas in pace, the disciples’ failure is much the same. We call these besetting sins, or pet sins, or just plain habits of sin. Again, it is fear of the Jews that causes them to lock the doors. The Holy Spirit has been bestowed upon them, already a week ago. The Lord has instituted and established the apostolic ministry. They have their marching orders. How, then, can they still be so unsure and afraid? Because they still abide in this fallen flesh, because the Holy Absolution, for the time being, removes guilt but not memory, consequence, or temptation.
The cure for this is the Word and the body of Jesus. They suffer from besetting sins. The Lord responds with besetting grace, abiding grace, a constant and ready application of His Word and body. The words here are “Peace be with you,” which is shorthand for the whole counsel of God and His mercy. They body is the body crucified, marked by those hateful nails that held Him in place. But the body crucified is alive, raised up again, joined back to His soul. That the Lord is risen is meaningless if He had not really been killed. If He had not been sacrificed on the cross, we would still be in our sins, even as we would still be in them if He were not raised.
Thus, Thomas is invited to see if those marks are real, that is, if this is really Jesus who really died as a sacrifice and is really back from the dead-and-pay attention sinners!-to see if God has changed. For the perfected bodies of the saints bear no scars, but the risen Lord bears these. Thomas is not directed to look to the Lord’s back marked by the Roman scourge or to His brow to see if there are marks from the thorns. He is pointed to the hands and side, to see what the cross has done to God in the flesh.
Has the cross changed God? Indeed. Yes! Is has. It left marks.
To say that God does not change is to try and imagine God from His own perspective instead of ours and that of Holy Scripture. God’s anger has been appeased. His wrath has been satisfied. We are not His enemies or rebels against Him. He is risen, come back alive from what we did to Him, but He seeks no revenge.
Notice this: Jesus submits to Thomas’ ridiculous demands in perfect and steadfast mercy. From our perspective, which is the only one we can really know, as recorded in Scriptures, we see and receive a change in God. He changes from wrath to mercy.
Yet this is none other than the God of Moses and Sinai. What was foreshown in shadowy form there is made clear in the incarnation. Jesus the Messiah is the mercy seat. He stands between us and the broken Law. He is the Lord who is eternal and without beginning, but He now has a beginning in the virgin Mary and is created. He is changed in the cross and crucifixion, but we would not know it if He was not risen. He has done that which never will be done again. And now the ransom is paid, and He has instituted a new covenant in His blood. Wonder of wonders. He gives us His blood to drink, His body to eat! That which ought never to be done, because the life is in the blood, is now done, is given, and thereby God gives His life to us. The flow of the temple’s blood has come to an end as Jesus’ blood flows down our throats and upon our hearts. The temple is finished. The Law is finished. Death and hell and Satan and demons and disease are finished. For He is risen.
Thus are we chiefly bound to praise Him for his glorious resurrection from the dead. He is in our midst, according to His promise, in His risen, living, physical body, speaking peace, forgiving sins, feeding saints, and encouraging faith. No locked doors, no fallen flesh will keep Him out. Amen.