The Eleventh Sunday after Trinity (Trinity 11)

(Audio)

Luke 18:9-14; 1 Corinthians 15:1-10; Genesis 4:1-15 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.

It wasn’t the sacrifice that was the problem. “Abel was a keeper of sheep, and Cain a worker of the ground.” “In the course of time Cain brought to the LORD an offering of the fruit of the ground, and Abel also brought of the firstborn of his flock and of their fat portions.” Both sacrifices were appropriate. Yet “the LORD had regard for Abel and his offering, but for Cain and his offering he had no regard.” It wasn’t the sacrifice that was the problem. The problem was God’s regard.

Pastor, what on earth do you mean? Let me explain. The LORD had no need of a sacrifice. In fact, according to what is recorded in the first four chapters of Genesis, God had not yet commanded such a sacrifice. That would come later. There is something deeper going on here, something that teaches us about righteousness, sin, humility, contrition, repentance, mercy, grace, forgiveness, and, most of all, fear, love, and trust in the LORD.

When the Bible says that the LORD regarded someone or something, it means that God noticed, looked upon, paid close attention to, and showed active care, favor, or judgment toward them. It is not merely a passive glance. God turns His attention toward someone with a purpose. Thus, Mary confesses in the Magnificat, “My soul magnifies the Lord, ... for He has regarded the lowliness of His handmaiden.” Centuries earlier, Hannah prayed, “O LORD of hosts, if you will indeed regard the affliction of your servant and remember me and not forget your servant, but will give to your servant a son, then I will give him to the LORD all the days of his life.”

Likewise, Jesus regarded Peter after Peter denied Him for the third time. Jesus looked upon Peter, and Peter went out and wept bitterly. The LORD’s regard brought Peter to contrition and repentance. The LORD’s regard is the LORD’s regard. He does not regard a person because of who they are, what they offer, or what they have done. His regard is His gracious will alone.

The LORD does not tell us why He regarded Abel’s sacrifice but not Cain’s. It was His will. And yet the preacher to the Hebrews gives us this insight: “By faith Abel offered to God a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain, through which he was commended as righteous, God commending him by accepting his gifts.” Abel offered his sacrifice by faith. And what is faith? Faith is not a work. It is not knowledge, an act of reason, or an act of the will by which we make ourselves acceptable to God. Faith is trust. It is trust in the LORD and in His promises. “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

All that we can say about Cain is that the LORD did not regard his sacrifice. I do not believe it is right to conclude that Cain had no faith. That is not really the point. The point is that the LORD’s regard is His to give or withhold, and either are good and just. When Cain became angry and his face fell, the LORD warned him: “If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door.” Cain’s problem was not that God had failed him. Cain’s problem was what he did with God’s judgment. Better to have the faith of Job, who in the midst of suffering and sorrow confessed, “The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” To become resentful, angry, and jealous because God has not regarded us as we think He ought to be regarded is not the fruit of faith. It is the fruit of sin and unbelief.

And then Jesus gives us two more men. A Pharisee and a tax collector. Both went to the temple to pray. The Pharisee went straight to the front and prayed with his head and hands lifted high: “God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.” And here is the uncomfortable part: the Pharisee was telling the truth. He really did those things. He fasted. He tithed. He was, outwardly, a righteous man. But his righteousness was in himself. And because his righteousness was in himself, he had no need of the righteousness that comes from God. He could not receive imputed righteousness because he believed he already possessed righteousness of his own. And worse, because he did not love the LORD, he did not love his neighbor. He treated the tax collector with contempt.

We saw the same thing in Cain. His anger toward God became hatred and contempt for his brother, and finally murder. The tax collector, however, stood far off. He would not even lift his eyes toward heaven. He simply prayed, “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” That is faith. He was humble. He was contrite. He was repentant. And he trusted that God was merciful, good, loving, and forgiving. He trusted that whatever God did would be just. And Jesus says that this man, not the Pharisee, went home justified. “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

St. Paul teaches the same thing to the Corinthians by using himself as an example. Paul proclaims the Gospel of Jesus Christ: His death, His burial, His resurrection, His appearances, and His ascension. And Paul confesses that this Gospel was given to him. He was not one of the Twelve. He had been a persecutor of Jesus and of those who trusted in Him. So, Paul considers himself unworthy. He calls himself the least of the apostles. But he is an apostle. How? “By the grace of God, I am what I am.” Paul does not boast in his works, his prayers, his sacrifices, or his righteousness. He boasts in the grace of God.

And that is where this Gospel leaves us today. Not standing before God with our heads held high, presenting Him with a list of the reasons He ought to regard us. We come like the tax collector. “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” And then we come to the altar. We do not come because we have made ourselves worthy. We come precisely because we are not worthy. We come in humility, confessing our sin. We come in contrition, grieving over our sin. We come in repentance, turning from our sin to Christ. And we come in faith, not faith in our faith, not faith in our worthiness, not faith in our works, but faith in Jesus Christ and His promises.

For here, at this altar, the LORD regards you. He looks upon you not according to your righteousness, but according to the righteousness of Christ given to you. Here Christ gives you His true body and His true blood, given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins. Here the sinner who says, “Lord, have mercy,” hears the answer of the Gospel. Mercy. Forgiveness. Grace. Christ.

So come with humility, but do not leave in despair. Come in contrition, but leave with forgiveness. Come in repentance, but leave reconciled. Come in faith, hope, and joy, because your hope is not in yourself. Your hope is in Christ. And the LORD who regards the lowly has promised that those who humble themselves will be exalted. “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

The Tenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity 10)

(Audio)

Luke 19:41-48; 1 Corinthians 12:1-11; Jeremiah 8:4-12

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.

One of the most poignant ecclesial symbols of Christ’s atoning sacrifice is known as The Pelican in Her Piety. In a time of famine and distress, the female pelican was believed to pierce her own breast and feed her young with her own blood that they might live. It is easy to see why this became a symbol of Christ, who sacrificed His own life and shed His precious blood that we might be forgiven, restored, and have life in Him. St. Thomas Aquinas even used this image in his Communion hymn, Thee We Adore, O Hidden Savior: “Thou, like the pelican to feed her brood, Didst pierce Thyself to give us living food.”

There is an image in St. Luke’s Gospel that is remarkably similar. Jesus compares Himself to a mother hen who gathers her brood beneath her wings. Earlier in Luke, Jesus lamented over Jerusalem: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” They were His people. They were His children. They were His brood. He desired to gather them to Himself, shelter them, feed them, and give them life. But they were not willing. And so, when Jesus came near Jerusalem and saw the city, He wept.

I want you to notice something about what Jesus says: “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes.” Throughout the Gospels, seeing is often more than simply having functioning eyes. It is seeing with the eyes of faith. It is seeing what is really true and real rather than merely what appears to be true. Many people could see Jesus. They saw the carpenter’s son from Nazareth. They saw an itinerant rabbi. They saw a prophet. Some saw a threat to their power, authority, and wealth. But they did not see who He really was. Others, including some whom the world considered blind or insignificant, saw what others could not see. They saw Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God.

Jerusalem could see Jesus, but Jerusalem could not see Jesus. And that spiritual blindness had consequences. Jesus knew what was coming. He knew that Jerusalem would be surrounded, besieged, and destroyed. He knew that the temple itself would be torn down, “not one stone upon another.” And He knew why: “because you did not know the time of your visitation.”

That is the tragedy. God had visited His people in grace, and they did not recognize Him. Jesus was there. The Word made flesh was there. He was preaching the Word of the Lord and calling them to repentance. He was giving them the very things that make for peace with God. But they refused to believe Him.

Jeremiah had described the same spiritual blindness centuries earlier: “They have healed the wound of my people lightly, saying, ‘Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace.” They thought they were secure because they were Abraham’s children. They trusted in their outward righteousness, their religious observances, their temple, their prayers, and their works. But they did not see that all of these things were pointing to Christ and His sacrifice. They had religion, but they did not have Christ. They had the signs, but they rejected the One to whom the signs pointed. They said, “Peace,” when there was no peace. And this warning is not merely for Jerusalem. It is for us.

The Greek word translated “visitation” is episkopē. It means visitation, oversight, supervision. It is related to the word from which we get bishop and pastor. Your pastor’s visitation is a visitation of grace. The visitation of your bishop is a visitation of grace. And, most especially, when you gather here on the Lord’s Day, you are receiving the Lord’s gracious visitation. He comes to you with the things that make for peace. The preaching of the Gospel. The forgiveness of sins. Holy Baptism. The Lord’s Supper.

St. Paul says, “Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed.” Do you know the time of your visitation? Do you see what is happening here? Do you see what is really happening when the Word of God is preached, when your sins are forgiven, when the waters of Baptism are applied, when the Body and Blood of Christ are given to you?

This is not merely something we do for God. This is not merely our religious obligation. This is not merely another hour of our week. God is visiting His people in grace. And that is why you should never think of coming to church as though you are doing God some great favor. You are not coming here primarily to serve God. You are coming here because God has promised to serve you. You are coming into the presence of your Peace. You are entering His Sabbath Rest. You are receiving His gracious visitation.

I am not suggesting that this congregation, or Lutherans, have somehow cornered the market on the Lord’s gracious visitation. God is truly present everywhere. But here, in this place, in Word and Water, Body and Blood, God is present for you in a particular and gracious way. Here He gathers you beneath His wings. Here He forgives your sins. Here He strengthens you with His Word. Here He feeds you with the very Body and Blood of Christ. Here the One who pierced His own flesh for His brood gives you His flesh and blood that you might live.

Jesus wept over Jerusalem because they did not recognize the time of their visitation. They could not see the things that made for peace. But you have been given eyes to see. Do not close them. Do not despise the Lord’s visitation. Do not take His gifts lightly.

The world may tell you that peace is found in wealth, politics, success, pleasure, security, or your own righteousness. It may tell you that the Church needs to become more like the world in order to survive. But there is no peace in those things. Jesus is our shalom. He is our fullness and completeness. He is the Foundation of our Peace with God and with one another. And though the world surrounds us and hems us in, though the culture threatens to tear down everything that belongs to Christ, we gather here in the Lord’s house of prayer. We take shelter beneath His gracious wings. We hang on His every Word. We receive His heavenly treasures.

This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it! This day, and every Lord’s Day, is the day of His gracious visitation. May God grant us always to see it, to know it, and to rejoice in it. Let us never forget the things that make for our peace. Let us cling to them. Let us preserve them. Let us receive them with thanksgiving. For they are our life and salvation. They are Jesus Christ our Lord.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

The Ninth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity 9)

(Audio)

Luke 16:1-13; 1 Corinthians 10:6-13; 2 Samuel 22:26-34

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Jesus begins today's Gospel with these words: “There was a rich man who had a manager.” At first glance, the parable seems to be about dishonest business practices. But that is not Jesus’ point. The key to understanding the parable is the relationship between the rich man and his manager. The manager owns nothing. Everything under his care belongs to someone else. His responsibility is simply to manage faithfully what has been entrusted to him. So it is with us.

Everything we have belongs to the Lord. Our bodies and souls, our reason and senses, our homes and families, our possessions, our time, our talents, and our money are not truly ours. As Luther reminds us in the Small Catechism, these are all gifts from our heavenly Father. We are not owners. We are stewards, entrusted with managing what already belongs to Him.

That truth is difficult for us to accept. We live in a culture that prizes independence and self-sufficiency. We speak of my home, my career, my savings, and my accomplishments. Before long we begin to believe that what we possess exists primarily for our own comfort and security. Jesus says otherwise.

C. F. W. Walther expressed it well: “Though a person may have control over thousands and millions of dollars, he is still only God’s treasurer. Though a person may possess a most profitable business and control vast resources, he is still only God’s manager. Though a person may call many homes and palaces his own, though he may hold clear title to a great tract of land, he is still only God’s tenant.” That changes the way we see everything.

Stewardship is not first about money. It is about faith. It is confessing that everything comes from the Lord and belongs to Him. The question is no longer, “What do I want to do with what is mine?” but, “Lord, how would You have me use what already belongs to You?”

Jesus returns to this theme again and again. In the Parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard, the master reminds the grumbling workers that he is free to do what he pleases with what belongs to him. In the Parable of the Talents, the master expects his servants to put his gifts to work rather than bury them in the ground. God’s gifts are meant to be used, for our families, for our neighbors, and above all for His glory. Yet before this parable teaches us how to live, it first exposes our hearts.

We have not been faithful stewards. We cling to God’s gifts as though they were our own. We fear losing them. We envy those who have more than we do. We are slow to show mercy and reluctant to forgive. Instead of receiving God’s gifts with thanksgiving and using them in love toward our neighbor, we often hoard them out of fear and selfishness. That is why we need more than instruction. We need a Savior.

There is one faithful Steward. Though He was rich beyond measure, possessing all things with the Father from eternity, Jesus did not cling to His glory. As St. Paul says, He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant and becoming obedient unto death, even death on a cross.

Everything Adam squandered, Christ restored. Everything we have mismanaged, Christ redeemed. He poured out the riches of His Father’s mercy without measure. He forgave sinners. He welcomed outcasts. He fed the hungry. He healed the sick. Finally, He gave Himself into death for the forgiveness of the world. In Jesus, the riches of God’s grace are not hoarded but lavished upon sinners. Having received such mercy, we are now free to live as faithful stewards.

This helps us understand the surprising conclusion of today’s parable. The unjust steward is not commended for his dishonesty but for recognizing that wealth is meant to be used. Jesus tells His disciples to use the possessions God has entrusted to them in ways that serve their neighbor and bear witness to the kingdom. The Lord does not ask us to bury His gifts in fear. He calls us to use them boldly and generously, trusting that He who has given them will continue to provide.

This has nothing to do with political ideologies or economic systems. Jesus is not preaching capitalism, nor is He preaching socialism. He is preaching repentance and faith. The issue is not who owns the property. The issue is that God owns everything, and we are His stewards. The Christian therefore receives God’s gifts with thanksgiving and uses them in love.

The day will come when each of us will give an account of our stewardship. Not because our works earn salvation, but because faith bears fruit. Those who trust the Lord gladly use His gifts for His purposes. They support their families, care for those in need, forgive as they have been forgiven, and give cheerfully because they know that nothing they possess can compare with the riches they already have in Christ. Of course, none of us does this perfectly. We remain sinners who struggle against greed, envy, and fear. But our hope has never rested in our stewardship. Our hope rests in Christ’s.

Martin Luther scribbled these words on a scrap of paper shortly before his death: “We are all beggars. This is true.”Indeed we are. We brought nothing into this world, and we shall take nothing out of it. There are no U-Hauls behind our hearses. Left to ourselves, we are beggars before God. Yet because of Christ we are beggars who have been made rich. Our Lord continues to pour out His treasures upon us. He gives His Word. He speaks His absolution. He remembers our Baptism. He places into our mouths His true Body and Blood for the forgiveness of sins. Here are the riches that never perish.

So come, you beggars. Come and receive what your gracious Lord delights to give. Eat and drink without price. Receive His mercy with empty hands. Then go into your homes, your vocations, and your community as faithful stewards of His abundant gifts, using all that He has entrusted to you in love for your neighbor and to the glory of His holy Name.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

The Eighth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity 8)

(Audio)

Matthew 7:15-23; Romans 8:12-17; Jeremiah 23:16-29

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Listen carefully, for I have an important truth to share with you today: It is not alright to say that it is alright to do what the LORD has said is not alright to do. That seems simple enough, doesn't it? Yet, apparently, it isn’t.

Likewise, it is not alright to say that something is sinful when the LORD has not called it sin. That is simply the other side of the same coin. No one should permit, encourage, or bless what God has forbidden, and no one should forbid or condemn what God has not forbidden. Whoever claims to speak for God must say only what God has said, without adding to it and without taking away from it. That is what it means to be a prophet: a mouthpiece through whom God speaks His own Word.

Yet the LORD warns through Jeremiah that false prophets will arise, speaking “visions of their own minds, not from the mouth of the LORD.” They continually tell those who despise the Word of God, “It shall be well with you,” and “No disaster shall come upon you.” In other words: “Keep doing what you're doing. God didn’t really mean that. It’s alright. God loves you just the way you are.” Go ahead and curse like a sailor. Go ahead and steal music and movies. Go ahead and live together and have sex outside of marriage. Go ahead and cheat on your taxes. Go ahead and terminate that pregnancy. Go ahead and affirm LGBTQ+ and same-sex marriage and bless what God has not blessed. Those old-fashioned preachers have misunderstood God. They’re not even Christians but they are bigots, misogynist, homophobes, and worse. God only wants you to be happy, and kind, and nice.

The LORD says such prophets “heal the wound of my people lightly, saying, ‘Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace.” They call evil good and good evil, they put darkness for light and light for darkness. “I did not send the prophets,” says the LORD, “yet they ran; I did not speak to them, yet they prophesied.” Had they truly stood in His counsel, they would have proclaimed His Word and called His people to repentance.

There will always be false prophets because there will always be people who want to hear them. As St. Paul warned, “The time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions.” Therefore, it is imperative that Christians learn to distinguish true prophets from false ones, true doctrine from false doctrine. How can you tell the difference? Jesus answers: “You will recognize them by their fruits.”

What are the fruits of a prophet? Jesus compares prophets to trees. Healthy trees bear good fruit; diseased trees bear bad fruit. You do not gather grapes from thornbushes or figs from thistles. Good fruit comes only from a good tree. The fruit of a prophet is his preaching. If he proclaims God’s Word in its truth and purity, that fruit nourishes faith and strengthens God’s people for eternal life. But if he corrupts, waters down, or twists God’s Word with human opinions, that fruit is poisonous. False doctrine rarely destroys faith all at once. Rather, like a slow poison, it gradually dulls the conscience until a person no longer recognizes truth from error.

Jesus also warns that false prophets rarely look dangerous. They come in sheep’s clothing, though inwardly they are ravenous wolves. You cannot judge them by their outward appearance. Some are polished, charismatic, wealthy, and successful. Others appear humble, compassionate, and sincere. None of those things prove anything. The question is never, “How impressive is he?” The question is always, “What does he preach?” Does he proclaim God’s Word faithfully, even when it convicts both preacher and hearer? Or does he reshape God’s Word to satisfy the desires of sinful men? His fruit is his preaching.

To understand this better, consider the beginning. In Eden stood two trees: the Tree of Life and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. By appearance both were attractive. But God’s Word made all the difference. One gave life; the other brought death. Then came the first false prophet. Disguised as a serpent, Satan twisted God’s Word. He promised that disobedience would not bring death but wisdom and enlightenment. Adam and Eve judged by appearances instead of God’s Word. They believed the false prophet, ate the forbidden fruit, and sin and death entered the world. Ever since then there have been true prophets and false prophets.

The true prophets were sinners like us, yet they faithfully proclaimed both God’s condemning Law and His comforting Gospel. Above all, they pointed to the coming Messiah. The false prophets followed the pattern of Satan. They mixed God’s truth with human opinion. They obscured the Gospel. They either taught salvation by human works or assured sinners that they needed no salvation at all.

Then, in the fullness of time, God sent His Son, the True Prophet. Jesus came to destroy the death that entered through the forbidden tree and to restore to sinners the Tree of Life. He took into Himself the poison of our sin and death. He drank the cup of God’s wrath to its bitter dregs until nothing remained. Then He was nailed to the cursed tree of the cross.

There was nothing outwardly attractive about Him. As Isaiah says, “He had no form or majesty that we should look at Him, and no beauty that we should desire Him.” He was despised and rejected by men. Yet He alone is the true Prophet of God. Blessed are those who are not offended by Him. He is the Truth. His cross has become for us the Tree of Life. From it He gives the fruit that grants eternal life. Whoever feeds on Him lives forever. He is the righteousness of sinners and the justifier of the guilty. He is mercy for the fearful, forgiveness for the condemned, peace for troubled consciences, and life for those who must die. He gives the medicine of immortality. Those who hear His voice receive Him with joy, and He welcomes them into the kingdom of heaven.

So Jesus is right: you will know a prophet by his fruits. Ask this question: What fruit does he set before me? To whom does he direct me? What does he feed me? The true prophet always places before you the fruit of the Tree of Life, Jesus Christ crucified and risen for the forgiveness of your sins. He feeds you with Christ’s pure Word. He gives you Christ’s holy body and precious blood, the blessed fruits of the cross, now become for you the Tree of Life with every good.

Your Savior is not far away. He is near. By His wounds you are healed. By His suffering you have peace with God. Everyone who calls upon His Name is saved from sin, death, and hell. Come, then, and eat from the Tree of Life. Receive the good fruit of the true Prophet. Feed upon Christ and live forever.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

The Seventh Sunday after Trinity (Trinity 7)

(Audio)

Mark  8:1-9; Romans 6:19-23; Genesis 2:7-17

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Part of the curse Adam brought upon himself, his children, and the entire world when he rebelled against God was that the earth would no longer provide sustenance freely apart from man’s labor. In the beginning, “the LORD God made to spring up every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food.” But after the fall, the ground was cursed because of Adam’s sin. It brought forth thorns and thistles, and in pain, sweat, and toil man would eat his bread.

Yet for all his labor, man’s bread cannot give true and lasting life. Like the widow of Zarephath and her son, fallen man can only expect to work hard, eat his daily bread, and then die. As the old coal-mining song says, “You load sixteen tons, what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt.” For all our striving, what do we finally receive? We get what we have earned. We receive the wages of our sin, and “the wages of sin is death.” Man does not live by bread alone.

Then, four thousand years after Adam’s fall, Jesus came to break the curse. He was born in Bethlehem, the House of Bread, the city of David and the town of Messianic promise. He came as our Bread King to give a bread no man can make, a bread that gives true and everlasting life. Jesus is the bread from heaven that sustained Israel for forty years in the wilderness. He is the widow’s flour and oil that never failed. He is the bread that satisfies four thousand today and five thousand tomorrow, not because anyone deserved it, earned it, or merited it, but because He has compassion upon sinners. He is the true Passover Bread, without the leaven of sin. He is food for the journey as He leads us in the true Exodus, from sin, death, and the devil into everlasting life through His death and resurrection.

For Jesus carried our sixteen tons of sin to the cross. Throughout His earthly ministry He scattered the seed of His Word wherever He went, and He sent His apostles to sow that same seed to the ends of the earth so that, when the harvest comes, the barns of heaven might be filled with precious wheat. That is why the Feeding of the Four Thousand, and later the Feeding of the Five Thousand, is so much more than a miracle. It is a sign that Adam’s curse is being undone. In Christ, men eat and live. In Christ, the wilderness becomes a garden once again. In Christ, the Tree of Life stands once more before sinful man. No one who comes to Him is turned away. Whoever feeds upon Him by faith shall live. Though he dies, yet shall he live, for Christ will raise him up on the Last Day.

Our Lord looked upon those crowds with compassion because they had been with Him three days and had nothing to eat. Yet the same condition exists today. We live surrounded by abundance, yet we are starving. Our cupboards and refrigerators overflow. Our stores are filled with every imaginable luxury. We spend ourselves chasing comfort, pleasure, success, and possessions, believing they will satisfy us. Yet none of these things can overcome death. Every meal postpones death for another day, but none can conquer it. Every earthly bread eventually leaves us hungry again.

The prophet Isaiah asks, “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?” That question is as timely now as it was then. Our sinful flesh continually hungers for the wrong things. Conceived and born in sin, it desires what ultimately destroys it. It promises life where there is only death. It promises satisfaction where there is only emptiness. Perhaps we are not so different from Israel after all, looking everywhere for life while the Bread of Life stands in our very midst.

But Jesus has compassion on you. He allowed His holy body to be broken and His precious blood to be shed so that you might eat and drink and truly be satisfied. His gifts never run out. His mercy is never exhausted. There is always more than enough for you and still enough to feed others besides. For the life He gives is not earned. It is not wages. It is gift. It is like the fruit of Eden before the fall, freely given by God apart from your labor, your sweat, or your merit.

You know these words well from Saint Paul: “The free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” That gift became yours in Holy Baptism. There the old Adam drowned with Christ. There a new man arose, conceived by the Holy Spirit in the watery womb of the Church. There you were made part of something far greater than yourself.

Our world worships the individual. It tells us that life is about self-expression, self-fulfillment, and self-interest. But there is no room for such individualism in the Body of Christ. A member that lives only for itself is like a cancer in the body. Instead, Christ gives us His own life, a life of love, compassion, and self-sacrifice. As husband and wife die to themselves in Holy Marriage and become one flesh, so the members of Christ’s Body live not for themselves but for one another.

Having been raised with Christ, you now live in the world but not of it. You have been sent back into this fallen creation to be leaven, not with the corruption of the world, but with the mercy, righteousness, and compassion of Christ. And so Christ continues to sustain you. He feeds your new life through His holy Word. He feeds you with the Living Bread from heaven. He feeds you here at this altar with His true body and blood.

Listen again to Isaiah: “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.” Here Christ has turned the bread of death into the Bread of Life. Here He gives you His own body and blood for the forgiveness of your sins. Here the curse of Adam gives way to the blessing of the Second Adam. Here the wages of sin are swallowed up by the free gift of God. And that free gift is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

The Sixth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity 6)

(Audio)

Matthew 5:17-26; Romans 6:1-11; Exodus 20:1-17

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.

The past three Sundays we have listened to the Holy Scriptures, prayed the prayers, sung the hymns, and heard proclaimed to us the grace, mercy, love, and forgiveness of God our Father through His Son, Jesus Christ, in the Holy Spirit. Today we turn, necessarily, to the question: How then shall we live?

We just heard the Law of God summarized in the Ten Commandments. We have heard St. Paul exhort us, baptized and forgiven, not to continue in sin but to walk in newness of life. And we have heard our Lord Himself declare, “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

It may seem to you that, after having the Gospel lavished upon you so richly, you have now been thrown back under the condemnation of the Law? That is the accusation of your bad conscience. For the Law of God is good, holy, and wise. Our Lord teaches that it will not pass away until He returns and this world is no more. Until then, our lives are lived under God’s Law and are ordered by it from our first breath until our last.

“You shall have no other gods before Me.” “You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain.” “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.” “Honor your father and your mother.” “You shall not murder.” “You shall not commit adultery.” “You shall not steal.” “You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.” “You shall not covet.”

This Law is not given so that you might do it and so earn God’s favor or deserve His blessing. Rather, it reveals what your Lord commands of you and, at the same time, reveals that you cannot fulfill those commands perfectly. The Law always exposes our sin. It demands perfect obedience from us in thought, word, and deed, and it shows that such obedience is beyond our power. Thus, the Law drives us to despair of ourselves so that we no longer trust in our own righteousness.

But do not let that despair become bitterness or resentment. Do not imagine that the Lord is a harsh master who demands the impossible and has neither grace nor mercy. He has not given you His Law because He delights in condemning you. He has given it because He loves you. Further, He has not taken His Law away, but He has fulfilled it for you in His Son. Christ’s perfect obedience is now yours as a free gift of grace. Therefore, you are free to obey the Law, not out of fear or coercion, but out of love.

Neither should you puff yourself up with pride, however, thinking that you have kept God’s Law better than most. Beware, lest you become a Pharisee. The Pharisees were remarkably disciplined. Their prayers were regular and devout. Their tithes were generous. Their observance of the Sabbath was meticulous. Yet they trusted in those works. They believed themselves righteous because of them, and so they could not receive the righteousness that is given freely in Christ.

When the Law has accomplished its holy purpose, then the Gospel speaks. There is hope for the hopeless and comfort for the troubled. The Gospel makes no demands. It issues no commands. It simply proclaims your Savior. “It is finished.” Your salvation is complete. Christ has fulfilled the Law for you. He has borne your sin, endured your condemnation, and bestowed upon you His righteousness. The perfect love of God has been revealed in His Son, and that love has set you free.

How then shall we live? Shall we continue in sin because this grace abounds? By no means! As St. Paul says, “How can we who died to sin still live in it?” In Holy Baptism you died with Christ. Your old man was crucified with Him. You have been raised with Him to live a new life. Therefore, “consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.”

And this new life has a new motive. The old obedience was driven by fear. The new obedience is inspired by grace. Love is the fulfillment of the Law because God’s love in Christ has first fulfilled the Law for you. Having been loved so completely, you are now free to love.

The Law has not been abolished. It has been fulfilled in Christ. Therefore, it is no longer the crushing burden it once was. Those who have been set free from the Law’s condemnation are now free to delight in God’s commandments. No longer do they obey because they fear punishment; they obey because they have been loved.

This is the righteousness that exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees. It is not a greater quantity of good works. It is the righteousness of Christ Himself, bestowed upon you by grace through faith. The Pharisees obeyed outwardly, but they did not know the love of God or their need for His mercy. Consequently, they neither loved nor showed mercy to others.

So, when Jesus says, “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees,” do not look within yourself. If you do, you will either despair, grow angry with God, or become proud. Instead, look to Christ. His righteousness is your righteousness. His love is your life. Clothed in Him, you are free to love as He has loved you.

Consider how Jesus teaches the commandments. The commandment “You shall not murder” forbids not only violence but also anger, contempt, and hateful words. The commandment “You shall not commit adultery” forbids not only the outward act but also lustful desire. The commandment “Remember the Sabbath day” is fulfilled not by mere outward rest but by receiving God’s gifts and showing His mercy to one another. Love reaches deeper than outward behavior because love seeks the good of the neighbor. As St. Paul says elsewhere, “Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the Law.”

Dear saints, in Christ your righteousness does indeed exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees. You have been baptized into Christ. In Him you have died to sin and been raised to newness of life. The Law has not passed away, but it has been fulfilled in Jesus Christ for you.

Now your Lord continues to sustain this new life. He absolves your sins. He strengthens your faith. He feeds you with His own true Body and Blood in this sacred feast of His love, giving you even now a foretaste of the marriage feast of the Lamb in His kingdom, where faith shall become sight, love shall be perfected, and the Law shall never again accuse, because Christ has fulfilled it forever.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

The Fifth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity 5)

(Audio)

Luke 5:1-11; 1 Peter 3:8-15; 1 Kings 19:11-21

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.

God’s ways are not our ways. You, and I, all of us know that to be unequivocally true. But why? Are our ways always so wrong? Do we never do the right thing, the righteous thing, the virtuous thing? Of course we do. We build hospitals to heal the sick. We give food, clothing, and money to provide for the poor. Our young men and women lay down their lives to defend our freedoms and to secure freedoms for others. Of course, we also destroy infant lives, we better ourselves at the expense of others, and we tend to think more of ourselves than of anyone else. But why must God’s ways always be so very different from our ways? Why must God’s thoughts be so completely the opposite of our thoughts?

There is an answer to that question, and I think that you will agree that it is every bit as true as the fact that God’s ways are not our ways, even if you don’t find it very satisfying. The answer to the question “Why?” is, “Because He is God, and you are not.” That’s why.

We so want God to act in the ways in which we think that He should act. We so want God to be like us. It’s only human after all. But God is not like us; God is not a human creature. God created humanity in His image, not the other way around. So, whose ways must be conformed to whom? Whose thoughts must submit to whom?

The greatest obstacle to faith, and the greatest contributor to suffering, is pride. Pride is your idol, your god. An idol is anything that you put your fear, love, and trust in before God; an idol is anything that gets in between you and God. It’s a First Commandment thing: You shall have no other gods before me – not even yourself. It’s an Original Sin thing – man is not content to be created in the image of God, but man wants to be God himself. We want to determine what is wisdom and what is foolishness, what is right and what is wrong, what is good and what is evil. But it is pride. It is arrogance. It is self-righteousness and self-centeredness and self-ISH-ness. And it is sin. And it brings death. And it is utterly, and truly foolishness.

Each of our lessons today speak to us of foolishness. For it is foolishness in the eyes of the world that God would speak to Elijah, not in a mighty wind, not in a jarring earthquake, and not in a blazing fire, but in a still, small voice – even a whisper.

Likewise, it is foolishness in the eyes of the world that you do not repay evil for evil or reviling for reviling but rather do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you, even love your enemies.

And so also was it foolishness in the eyes of the world, indeed foolishness in the weary eyes of Simon, James, and John, when Jesus told them to “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” Simon answered, “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your word I will let down the nets. And when they had done this, they enclosed a large number of fish, and their nets were breaking.”

Foolishness. But the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. God’s foolishness is wiser than man’s wisdom. God’s thoughts are not man’s thoughts, neither are man’s ways His ways. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are God’s ways higher than man’s ways and His thoughts than man’s thoughts.

Man’s pride separates him from God. The man who trusts in himself does not seek God – he is a fool. But God is merciful and just, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. He calls the fool to repentance and afflicts man’s pride to break it. Elijah feared for his life because he trusted only in himself and knew that he had not the strength in himself to survive. But in his self-despair, Elijah was receptive to God’s Word. God demonstrated to Elijah that He would act, not in ways that men find impressive – winds, earthquakes, and fire – but in His way, the way of His Word.

Simon, James, and John despaired at the failure of their own efforts to catch fish. But in their broken and weary desperation they were receptive to Jesus’ Word “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” By that Word alone they put to their boats and let down their nets, not expecting anything, but catching instead a great catch of fish.

Why are God’s ways and thoughts so different from ours? Because He is God and we are not – thanks be to God. In His grace and mercy, God loves us enough to crush us; God loves you enough to crush your pride, to beak your self-reliance, to destroy your self-righteousness. It is a good thing to be broken by the Lord – for He is powerful and willing to put you back together again, not as you were before, but as a new creation, restoring you once again to His image.

God’s foolishness is wiser than man’s wisdom. He does the unthinkable. He does what men would never do. He saves the best wine for last. He eats and drinks with sinners, tax collectors, and prostitutes. He touches the unclean with no concern for Himself. And He lays down His own life for men who hate Him. Foolishness.

And so, thanks be to God, His ways and thoughts are not your ways and thoughts. He afflicts your ways and thoughts. He afflicts your pride, your reason, and your assumed wisdom. He breaks you, so that He can re-create you in the image of His Son.

Through the foolishness of the Gospel – the preaching of Christ crucified – a great catch of fish – you – is still brought into the boat – the Church. The message of the cross is foolishness and a stumbling block to the world; but to you, that cross is the power of God and the wisdom of God.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

Christian Funeral for Wendell Edward Arends

(Audio)

John 14:1-6; Romans 8:18-28; Lamentations 3:22-33

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Death is always an intruder. It separates those whom God has joined together in love, and it leaves our hearts heavy with grief. But for the Christian, death never has the final word, because Jesus Christ does. Today we gather to commend our brother, Wendell Arends, into the Lord's keeping, confident in the promise of Christ: “Let not your hearts be troubled... I go to prepare a place for you.”

Wendell was a big man with an even bigger heart. He was a gentleman who wore his Sunday best to church and was well put together the rest of the week. He treated people with respect and carried himself with dignity and honor. He had a firm handshake — honest, sincere, and strong. It was the handshake of a man who worked hard, kept his word, and quietly lived his faith. Wendell wasn't perfect. He knew he was a sinner. But he also knew something even greater: he was forgiven in the blood of Jesus Christ.

He worked hard to provide for his son, Matthew, and to care for his mother, Grace. For more than thirty years Grace lived with Wendell, and he did whatever was necessary to keep her at home until his own health made that impossible and they entered Clarksville Nursing and Rehabilitation together. Along with good genes and a healthy lifestyle, there is little doubt that Wendell's faithful love contributed to his mother's remarkable longevity and well-being.

Grace helped raise Matthew alongside his father, and together they were a close family. They especially loved golfing at CARD in Clarksville. Wendell and Grace treasured their purple golf cart, Barney, and even when they weren't golfing, he delighted in taking his mother for rides. They played Farkel with John and Carol Lilienthal, watched sports together, cheering for the Patriots and for whoever happened to be playing the Packers, and they enjoyed long drives in Ruby, Wendell's red Nissan Rogue, looking for eagles, hawks, and other wildlife. A trip to Wisconsin usually included a stop at Breitbach's in Balltown on the way home. Wendell appreciated a good ribeye, chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and his favorite vegetable was the yellow one: butter. Not long ago, when I visited him at the nursing home and asked if there was anything he wanted, his answer came quickly: “A cheeseburger.” Wendell and Grace also enjoyed a sweet red wine. On one visit to their home, Wendell even served me Dr. McGillicuddy's Cherry Liqueur. It was sweet, and it was red.

More importantly, Wendell and Grace loved being here in God's house. They worshipped faithfully at St. John whenever they were physically able. They loved their Lord, and they loved His Church. Together they donated the rose-colored paraments and vestments that adorn this sanctuary on Gaudete Sunday in Advent and Laetare Sunday in Lent. They saw them in use only a few times before Grace's funeral last December, when those rose colors once again proclaimed Christian joy in the midst of sorrow. Wendell served as an usher for years, and later his service became quietly caring for Grace, making sure she got safely into church and received Christ's body and blood. That was Wendell. Quietly serving others.

He was a tool-and-die journeyman whose skills made him valuable wherever he worked. He changed employers not because he was unreliable, but because he was dependable. Good craftsmen are always in demand.

Yet for all his strength, Wendell's physical heart was failing him. In December of 2023 he suffered a cardiac arrest at work. His implanted defibrillator shocked his heart back into rhythm, but he blacked out, fell, and suffered a serious head injury. After a lengthy hospitalization he emerged noticeably weaker. Then came another cardiac event, another hospitalization, more rehabilitation, and finally long-term nursing care.

For a man like Wendell, that was difficult. He had always been the one caring for others, not the one needing care. He was accustomed to working, providing, driving, walking, golfing, and enjoying God's creation. Gradually even breathing became difficult. I suspect what he missed most was simply getting outside, taking a drive in Barney or Ruby, or walking through God's beautiful creation.

Still, as long as Grace was with him, and Matthew, and Anne, and John and Carol, there was joy. After Grace died last December, I believe that was especially hard on Wendell. He missed her terribly. But he was also happy for her because he knew exactly where she was. She was with Jesus.

That wasn't wishful thinking. It wasn't crossing his fingers and hoping everything would work out. It was faith. Faith takes Jesus at His Word. And what does Jesus say? “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in Me. In My Father's house are many rooms... I go to prepare a place for you... I will come again and take you to Myself, that where I am you may be also.” Those are not simply comforting words. They are promises purchased by Christ's own blood. Jesus does not merely point us toward heaven. He is the Way there. He does not merely teach the truth. He is the Truth. He does not merely give life. He is the Life. Wendell knew that.

As his body became weaker, his confidence in Christ did not. It wasn't that he had given up. It wasn't despair. It was hope. His hope was not in another procedure, another medication, or a different type of therapy. His hope was in the crucified and risen Lord Jesus Christ.

For years Wendell had cared for Grace. He watched over her. He provided for her. He made sure she got where she needed to be. He made sure she was safe. But there came a day when Wendell could no longer care for Grace. The good news is that Jesus never stopped caring for either of them.

The Good Shepherd cared for Grace until He called her safely home. The Good Shepherd cared for Wendell through every hospitalization, every setback, every disappointment, every weakening heartbeat, and every labored breath. He cared for Wendell through His holy Word. He cared for him through Holy Absolution. He cared for him through His own Body and Blood given and shed for the forgiveness of sins. The Shepherd never abandoned His sheep. “The LORD is my Shepherd.” Not “was.” Not “used to be.” “The LORD is my Shepherd.” Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, You are with me.

Death is still an enemy. Scripture never pretends otherwise. We weep today because death separates us from those we love. Matthew has lost his father. Family has lost someone they dearly loved. St. John has lost a faithful brother in Christ. Death hurts. But notice what David calls it. Not the valley of death. The valley of the shadow of death. A shadow can frighten us, but it cannot ultimately harm us. At the cross Jesus bore our sin. At the empty tomb He conquered our grave. Death is now but the shadow left behind by an enemy Christ has already defeated.

That is why St. Paul can write, “The sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.” Those words are easy to read and much harder to live. Wendell knew suffering. He knew what it was like to lose his strength. He knew what it was like to surrender his independence. He knew what it was like to watch his body fail him. But he also knew something greater. He knew that his Redeemer lives. He knew that Christ had claimed him in Holy Baptism. He knew that Christ continually spoke forgiveness into his ears. He knew that at this altar Christ fed him His own Body and Blood for the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation.

These were not empty rituals. This is how the Good Shepherd cared for His sheep. This is how Christ sustained Wendell's faith. This is how the Lord prepared him for the day He would finally call him home.

Jeremiah writes, “The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.” Every morning. Not just the healthy mornings. Not just the mornings when Wendell could golf or take a drive in Ruby. Every morning. Even the mornings in the nursing home. Even the mornings after another hospitalization. Even the final morning of his earthly life. The Lord's mercy was new. The Lord was faithful. And He is faithful still.

Today Wendell rests from his labors. His heart no longer struggles. His breathing is no longer labored. His suffering has ended because he is with Christ, which is far better. But this is not the end of Wendell's story. The body we commit to the earth today is not discarded. It is sown like a seed in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection of the body. The day is coming when the trumpet will sound. Christ will return in glory. The dead in Christ will rise. The grave will surrender its dead. And Wendell will stand again, not weakened, not frail, not struggling for breath, but whole, perfect, and glorified, because Jesus Christ lives. That is our comfort today.

Our comfort is not ultimately that Wendell was a good man, though he was. Our comfort is not ultimately that he faithfully cared for Grace for so many years, though he certainly did. Our comfort is not ultimately that he loved his family and friends so well, though they were richly blessed by his love. Our comfort is Christ. Christ crucified for sinners. Christ risen from the dead. Christ reigning at the Father's right hand. Christ coming again in glory to raise the dead and make all things new.

Jesus says, “I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life.” Because He is the Way, Wendell is safely home with Him. Because He is the Life, death could not hold him. And because Jesus lives, Wendell shall live also.

Dear friends, that same promise is for you. Trust in Christ. Cling to His promises. Receive the gifts He freely gives in His Word and Sacraments. For the Good Shepherd who faithfully led Wendell through the valley of the shadow of death will likewise lead all who belong to Him into the house of the Lord forever.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

The Fourth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity 4)

(Audio)

Luke 6:36-­‐42; Romans 8:18-­‐23; Genesis 50:15-­‐21

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Last Sunday we considered God's love manifested as grace. Today we see God's love manifested as mercy. Grace and mercy are two sides of the same coin, for both are manifestations of God's love for you in Jesus Christ.

When I teach catechumens about grace and mercy, I explain it this way: Grace is when God gives us good things that we do not deserve. Mercy is when God does not give us the bad things that we do deserve. One is a giving; the other is a withholding. Yet both come from God: His will, His action, His love.

Last week we heard of God's seeking love that finds and restores the lost. Today we focus on God's mercy, through which He works even through suffering, pain, and loss to preserve us in His Son unto eternal life. We hear that God works man's intended evil for good. We hear that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. And we hear our Lord exhort us to be merciful as our Father is merciful: to judge not, condemn not, forgive, and give.

The story of Joseph and his brothers is one of the clearest examples of mercy in all of Holy Scripture. Joseph's brothers were consumed with jealousy. Their father Jacob loved Joseph, the son of his old age. He gave Joseph the many-colored coat. Then came the dreams in which Joseph's brothers bowed before him. Their jealousy turned to hatred. They plotted murder. Reuben intervened, and instead they sold Joseph into slavery.

What followed was years of suffering, injustice, and humiliation. Yet through it all God was at work. Joseph eventually became Pharaoh's right-hand man in Egypt. Then came the famine. His brothers traveled to Egypt seeking food and, just as Joseph had dreamed, bowed before him.

After Jacob died, the brothers feared revenge. Surely now Joseph would repay them for all they had done. They expected judgment. They expected condemnation. They expected to receive what they deserved. Instead, they received mercy.

Joseph said, "Do not fear, for am I in the place of God? As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good." Joseph did not deny their sin. He did not pretend evil was good. He named it for what it was. "You meant evil against me." Yet he also confessed God's greater purpose. God had been at work through all of it to preserve life.

Joseph did not give his brothers what they deserved. He forgave them. He restored them. When they offered themselves as slaves, he called them brothers. He provided for them and for their children. Their guilt was not repaid with vengeance but overcome by mercy.

What Joseph did for his brothers points us to what God has done for us. In our Epistle lesson, St. Paul reminds us that the fall into sin affected not only humanity but the entire creation. Everything is subjected to corruption. Everything groans beneath the curse of sin. We see it everywhere, in sickness and disease, war and violence, broken relationships, anxiety and fear, sorrow and death. We know these things all too well. We experience them in our homes, our bodies, our families, and our hearts. Yet Paul directs our eyes beyond present suffering. "I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us."

Notice that Paul does not deny suffering. Christianity is not wishful thinking. It does not pretend pain is not real. Rather, Paul says that what God has prepared for His children is so glorious that there is no comparison.

The whole creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. Dearly beloved, that is you. The revealing of God's sons began with the Incarnation of His eternal Son, Jesus Christ. It continues now in those who have been united to Christ through Holy Baptism and faith. Yet its full revelation awaits the resurrection of the body. That is why we groan.

We do not groan because we have no hope. We groan because we do have hope. We possess the firstfruits of the Spirit. We know what is coming. We know that Christ is risen. We know that our bodies will be raised. We know that creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption. Paul compares our present sufferings to the pains of childbirth. Labor is painful. It is difficult. Yet the joy of the child overwhelms the suffering that came before. So it is with the Christian life. The sufferings of this present age are preparing us for the glory that is coming.

God does not waste suffering. He works through it. Just as He worked through Joseph's suffering to preserve life, so He works through our suffering to preserve us in Christ and prepare us for the resurrection. That is divine mercy. God does not give us what our sins deserve. The wages of sin is death. Yet God gives us life. He does not hold our sins against us. He forgives them for the sake of His Son. He does not condemn us. Christ has already borne our condemnation upon the cross.

And if this is how God has treated us, how then shall we treat one another? This is the point of our Lord's words in today's Gospel. "Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven." How can those who have received such mercy refuse mercy to a brother? How can those whose chains have been removed bind another with judgment, condemnation, or bitterness? We cannot.

The debt forgiven us is greater than any debt owed to us. The mercy shown us is greater than any mercy we are called to show another. Therefore, as recipients of God's mercy, we become instruments of that mercy toward others. Forgive as you have been forgiven. Give as you have been given to. Show mercy as mercy has been shown to you.

The Lord now prepares a feast for His sons who are being revealed. Here, too, His glory remains hidden. Christ is present under humble forms of bread and wine. Yet this Holy Supper is a foretaste of the glory to come. It is a feast of reconciliation. What was lost has been found. What was broken has been restored. It is a feast of grace, mercy, love, and forgiveness.

Therefore, come to this altar as those who have been set free. Come forgiving as you have been forgiven. Come reconciled to your brothers. Do not place upon another the chains from which Christ has released you. For He who fills this cup and satisfies the hungry heart fills you with His overflowing love, grace, mercy, and forgiveness, that you may pour the same upon others to the glory of God the Father, through His Son, Jesus Christ, in the communion of the Holy Spirit.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.