FOURTH SUNDAY IN LENT
March 2, 2008
DEPENDING ON GOD
John 9:1-41
I am currently reading a volume entitled, A Class Apart by Alec Klein. It deals with my alma mater, Stuyvesant High School in Manhattan. In it he talks about the terrors of exams. Now if I were to give a pop quiz to you right now and ask you to summarize Lutheran theology in a single phrase, the most common answer would probably be “Justification by faith.” This is a very good Lutheran answer. Actually we are justified by grace through faith but that is splitting some theological hairs. Yet while most of us know this phrase, we often misunderstand it. So lets take a look at this critical truth using today’s seemingly endless Gospel.
The first thing we must realize is that both grace, or the love of God and faith or trust in the love of God both are from God. This is not something we can do. This is all God’s work. Only God can open the door of our hearts, we can only shut it. This means we are totally dependent on God. And depending on God can be challenging, just as challenging as having a stranger anoint you with his spit and mud and then order you to wash in a pool. Yet this is exactly what the blind man does. And look at the consequences. He was cured of his blindness, but driven out of his community. I wonder how many of us would actually follow his example.
Which bring us to one of the challenges of being totally depending on God. It means we must come to terms with our own sin and willful ignorance. Now this is a very hard thing. Examine the reaction of the Pharisees. They are totally unable to accept even a bit of their blindness and so are condemned. 40Some of the Pharisees near him heard this and said to him, “Surely we are not blind, are we?” 41Jesus said to them, “If you were blind, you would not have sin. But now that you say, ‘We see,’ your sin remains. Now we Lutherans are much too sophisticated to make such a forthright statement as the Pharisees, but I wonder if we ever realize just how deep our streak of self-righteousness can run.
Depending on God means being totally in God’s hands. Ultimately, the greatest sin of the Pharisees was that of a lack of faith. They believed they actually had the power to earn the love of God by following all the 613 laws elucidated in the Torah and the almost endless interpretations of these rules and regulations. But as Christ reminds them, in claiming to have a 20/20 vision of their own self-righteousness, they are actually blind. There are often times we are closer to the Pharisees than we care to admit as we attempt to set up our own rules and regulations, we call them “the way we do things around here,” and are perfectly willing to judge others by our own high standards. If we are honest, we frequently want to do things ourselves rather than trust in God’s saving grace and prefer to look down our ecclesiastical noses at others.
However, depending on God means there is still work to be done. This dependency does not free us from being God’s instruments on this earth. Quite the opposite. It empowers us to serve in our Master’s name. When we consider all that He has done for us we instinctively reach out to those in need. This weekend we offer an opportunity to help alleviate world hunger. Will this effort eliminate this great problem? Probably not. Will this effort save us? Absolutely not. But this is something we are called to do because we know that this is what God wants us to do. And in gratitude for all He has done for us, we are led to attempt to bring God pleasure in our own inadequate ways.
39Jesus said, “I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.” By the grace of God, may we though often blind be counted with the former sinful yet saved Saints in the Lord. Amen.
RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD
March 23, 2008
Make it as secure as you can. As I was reading the Passion According to St. Matthew, these words struck me. This was the suggestion of Pilate when the religious authorities were concerned someone might steal the body of Jesus and then claim He had been resurrected. Try and secure the tomb, the governor tells them, if this will make you feel better. Being an opera buff, my mind was drawn to Aida who sealed herself in her lover’s tomb. A chilling thought. And yet in many ways we also attempt to secure ourselves in tombs of our own making, much as the authorities tried to secure the tomb of Jesus. But we and they are in for a surprise. For our Lord delights in breaking open secured tombs. Consider the attempts we make.
We attempt to secure the tomb of our sin. Day after day, we fail to meet even the simplest of the commands of God as we craftily defy his will for us. St. Paul knew what he was talking about when we wrote all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. And yet, on this Easter Day we affirm that though Christ died, He now lives to forgive us our sins and bring us into the eternal Kingdom of our heavenly Father.
We attempt to secure the tomb of our snobbery. In some ways God has blessed us with incredible material blessings. We live in one of the most diverse and beautiful areas of the country if not the world. Almost everything we could want from beaches to universities to rolling hills surrounds us. Even in a wealthy country, we live in the midst of great riches. It is not surprising then that the sin of snobbery should raise its subtle yet powerful head. How often we judge others as if we somehow were entitled to all these blessings because we are such wonderful people. To hearken to another opera, we see ourselves as the “Licht Alberich,” or elves of the light. But Christ breaks open the tomb of our snobbery by loving all people, even the most elitist among us.
We attempt to secure the tomb of our disbelief. We all have our doubts when we wonder if this whole business is actually true, or just a clever construction of what we hope could be rather than what is. In our darker moments we wonder if there is a God, or to quote a song that was popular years ago, “And if He really does exist, why did He desert me?” But our risen Lord understands these doubts even more than we ourselves and breaks open the tomb of our disbelief by granting us the gift of faith through the Holy Spirit, that same Spirit that gathers us here today.
But ultimately, we are pikers when it comes to securing tombs. For there is that final tomb that death is confident it can secure, our physical tomb. Death is as confident that it can secure our actual tombs, as it was that it could secure Jesus in His tomb. But death is in for a series of rude awakenings. For on that first Easter day so long ago our Lord burst forth from His tomb. For on this Easter Day we celebrate another truth. The saving truth that the Lord who broke free of His tomb breaks open ours tombs as well to grant us the gift of life now and forevermore. Thus we proclaim in confidence, The Lord is risen. He is risen indeed. Amen. Alleluia.
GOOD FRIDAY
March 21, 2008
THE CURTAIN OF THE TEMPLE
Matthew 27:51
51At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, and the rocks were split.
The curtain of the Temple separated the unclean people from the purity of God.
At a later time in Israelite history, two curtains were used to close off the holy place and the holy of holies in the Temple. The curtain separating the holy of holies and the holy place was torn from top to bottom at the time of Jesus’ death signifying the access that all people had to God from that time forward (Matt. 27:51). The writer of Hebrews speaks of the curtain in the heavenly sanctuary (Heb. 6:19; 9:3). 19We have this hope, a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters the inner shrine behind the curtain, 20where Jesus, a forerunner on our behalf, has entered, having become a high priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek. .Jesus also opened this curtain to his followers by his death (Heb. 10:20).
Christ tears the curtain in two. He breaks down the barriers that separate us from God.
In gratitude we should break down the barriers that separate us from other people we deem as “unclean.” 19Therefore, my friends,£ since we have confidence to enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus, 20by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain (that is, through his flesh), 21and since we have a great priest over the house of God, 22let us approach with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. 23Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful. 24And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, 25not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.
Good Friday, Isaiah 52:13-53:12; John 18:1-19:42; March 21, 2008
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, our Lord and crucified Savior Jesus the Christ, and the Holy Spirit our Sustainer.
So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull, which in Hebrew is called Golgotha. There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, with Jesus between them.
A rather succinct and sanitized description, don’t you think? Already whipped and beaten to within an inch of his life, a mere pulp of humanity, he was forced to carry—or was it drag?—the heavy cross to his execution place. He was nailed down and hanged there, the weight of his formerly strong body gradually pulling him down, slowly closing off his windpipe until he suffocated and died. It was a brutal, pitiful, painful, humiliating death.
He had no form or majesty that we should look at him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; and as one from whom others hide their faces he was despised, and we held him of no account.
We held him of no account. But that can’t be. How could we possibly look at him hanging there, suffering, and think of him as beneath our contempt when we know him to be innocent. Innocent of the charges, innocent of sin, undeserving of our scorn, undeserving of this punishment.
He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.
Not once did he protest. Not once did he try to explain, excuse, or extract himself from the mess we got him into. Not once did he abandon us as we abandoned him.
By a perversion of justice he was taken away. And by our perversion of truth, love, and justice, we needed him to save us.
Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases; yet we accounted him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed.
How can that be? How does Jesus’ suffering and death heal us? How can we gaze upon him: his poor, broken body oozing his life away; his spirit weighed down with the despair of abandonment? How can we gaze upon this innocent man, servant of God, and not feel the guilt of our own sin: our acts of commission and omission; our self-righteousness; our pride; hard-heartedness; haughtiness? How can we watch this travesty and not feel the weight of our own guilt? We’ve escaped this cruel, inhumane punishment only because he allowed himself to be caught. He went willingly to receive that which he did not deserve. He took our guilt—all of it—upon his shoulders.
How can we possibly look upon him and not feel our guilt but also his love for us he knew was worth dying for? How can we possibly look upon him and not feel the shame of allowing him to take the fall for us but also feel the gratitude for taking that fall? How can we possibly look upon him hanging there and not be driven to him: to love, to praise, to glorify, to thank?
For without Jesus, and his willingness to be our Suffering Servant, we have no hope. Amen.
MAUNDY THURSDAY
March 20, 2008
WE ARE THE COMMUNION WARE
Tonight we commemorate Maundy Thursday. This is a time when we recall the institution of Holy Communion. As Lutherans, we join with our Roman Catholic and Orthodox brothers and sisters in underscoring the doctrine of the true presence. We believe that Christ’s body and blood are truly present in with and under the bread and the wine.
Which helps to explain some of our practices. Because we believe that Communion is the true presence of Christ, we have this sacrament with great frequency because we all need as much of Christ as we can get. Another way in which we underscore the true presence of Christ is through the symbolism of our communion ware, the vessels we use to hold the wafers and the wine. Congregations have a tradition of using very expensive communion ware. Ours is fashioned of silver. Some denominations have gone so far as putting jewels on these vessels. This is a reminder that the ciborium that contains the wafers and the chalice that contains the wine also hold the true body and blood of Christ.
But recently a colleague of mine, Pastor Gary Costa offered an intriguing view I would like to share with you. In considering the wide variety of communion ware used in various churches, and they can vary from clay to gold, he suggests that ultimately we are also communion vessels since we also carry the precious Body and Blood of Christ within us once we have received this sacrament.
But let me quote him directly. Speaking of the actual communion ware, he reflects, “They are vessels with holy purpose. They are ciborium and chalice. They hold bread and wine, body and blood.”
“(But) Consider your purpose. You too are ciborium and chalice. You hold the bread and wine, the body and the blood for the world. Once filled, your job is to take the resurrected Christ to the people. They need to feed off of you. During these Lenten and Easter seasons may we be bread for the community, for the world. May we be the refreshing, tasty, life-giving wine for the parched pallets of our neighbors. May our knowledge be their knowledge. May our faith be their faith. May our hope be their hope. Amen.”
