Agony of the Soul

Biblical Text: Luke 22:39-53

Sometimes you come up with something you really like. For example, this sermon. I think this is really good. Except that it might miss the time a bit. For a midweek meditation, it is probably a little too serious. I’m sure that agony of the spirit is a real thing. I’m not sure if our age experiences it. What we call agony is usually more a paper cut. But the image of Gethsemane, even if our agony between the Spirit and our Spirit doesn’t rise to the same level, it is still ours. And the promises are still given. The Angels are there. Prayer is available. The Will of God will be done.

Fox and Hen

Biblical Text: Luke 13:31-35

Luke to me is a master of phrases that drip with pathos. By that I mean phrases that have entire Russian novels behind them. Phrases that church your guts with recognition. You know he was talking to eyewitnesses, and that he was a very good listener. He felt it with them. And the gospel text today has more than one of those phrases.

There is one about the time. We all have a fox like sense of low cunning. But that low cunning might put on Herod’s path, or there is a slight change it just might tell us what time it is. That the time is short – “today, tomorrow, maybe the third.”

There is one about being gathered, and refusing to gather. And there is one about houses left forsaken. That last one is the toughest one. I think I might have even hedged a bit in the sermon. A line or two I contemplated were just too tough.

But the sermon, if we have ears to hear, tells us who God is, and what today is.

Funeral of Dale & Marge Kussrow

Dale and Marge were wonderful members of the Mt. Zion family who passed away in a terrible car crash. Marge had left wonderful instructions. Three wonderful hymns that she wanted sung.

  • LSB 687 Thine Forever God of Love
  • LSB 895 Now Thank We All Our God
  • LSB 770 What a Friend We Have in Jesus

This sermon, after a short memory that hopefully sets the stage, attempts to let Marge and Dale speak to us through those hymns.

Table Definitions

Biblical Text: Psalm 113, Luke 22:1-38

The Psalms for our midweeks this year are those traditionally associated with the Passover. The readings are going to be the passion story from Luke which is unique in many way. In this case around that Passover table, the disciples start to talk about “who is the greatest.” That conversation happens elsewhere in the other gospels. But in Luke it gives Jesus the opportunity at the table to define what his Kingdom looks like. The communions of the world are status-based hierarchies. The communion of Christ is based on service. And we are all assigned “kingdoms”, tables that are in communion with this one, if we wish to have our seat at that one.

Power in the Blood

Just last week South Carolina carried out the first execution by firing squad since 2010.  This is not a lament about the barbarity of the method. If I was ever to be put in the position of having to choose a method of my execution, I’d take firing squad.  Neither is it a lament of over the death penalty itself. The State, Caesar, has the job of meeting out punishment. The executed in this case in 2001 murdered the parents of an ex-girlfriend and proceeded to kidnap her. He admitted to the murders. And still had 24 years of procedural delays before justice. No, this is a contemplation of blood.

Our Old Testament text is the confrontation of Jeremiah’s prophetic mission with those he was sent to.  His mission was to proclaim the coming exile to the elite of Jerusalem.  That is summarized in what the priests quoted back to him, “This house shall be like Shiloh, and this city shall be desolate, without inhabitant.” Shiloh was the location of the tabernacle before the temple.  It was the center of Samuel’s prophetic work.  But the Philistines would steal the Ark of the Covenant from Shiloh and it would not return. The capture was taken as God’s removal of himself from the place. And Shiloh would become barren.  Jeremiah’s prophetic message was that God was going to remove his name from the Jerusalem temple.  And the life that came from that name would depart with it.

The priests, and the temple prophets, and the people themselves demanded that Jeremiah deserved death for this message.  “He has prophesied against the city (Jeremiah 26:11).”  Jeremiah’s response has three parts: 1) “The LORD sent me to prophesy against this house and this city the words you have heard (Jeremiah 26:12).” 2) “Do with me as seems good and right to you. (Jeremiah 26:14).” 3) Know for certain that if you put me to death, you will bring innocent blood upon yourselves and upon this city and its inhabitants (Jeremiah 26:15).” And in that third point is the introduction of blood.

The temple of Jerusalem was in the blood business. Every sacrifice that took place was an offering of blood. And as the Torah held, “the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it for you on the altar to make atonement for your souls, for it is the blood that makes atonement by the life. (Lev. 17:11 ESV).” The blood calls out.  The blood is either life pleading for life – for atonement.  Or the blood is life pleading for vengeance, as Abel’s blood called out in that primal murder.

If we are going to execute people, I’d say it is good to have blood.  It is a reminder of what we do.  It is everything that the various other methods, which we think are more humane, attempt to hide.  If we are spilling blood, is this justified? Or are we bringing innocent blood upon ourselves? 

Which brings us to the blood of Christ.  Unlike Jeremiah which Jerusalem would never get around to killing, Jerusalem would kill Christ. The definition of innocent blood, which would lead to the temple’s absolute destruction within the lifetime of those present. And the name of God has not returned.  But that innocent blood of Christ also presents with something new.  The innocent blood pleads not for justice, but for mercy.  “Father forgive them, they know not what they do (Luke 23:34).”  This innocent life was sent to prophesy a new covenant.  His words still call out our sins.  “Now therefore mend your ways and your deeds, and obey the voice of the LORD (Jeremiah 26:13).”  His word still allows us to do with Christ as seems good and right. His kingdom is not by the sword but by faith.  But the plea of the Blood of Christ is not for justice, but for our pardon. Jerusalem may be desolate, but the New Jerusalem is full of life.  Life made possible by the blood.  As the old hymn has it, there is power in the blood. 

A Question of Temptation

Biblical Text: Luke 4:1-13

It’s the first Sunday in Lent, so the text is the temptation of Jesus. This is one of those places where Jesus is demonstrated to experience everything that we do, except that he defeats Satan. Each of the three temptations are common to us. Temptations of the flesh, of the world and of Satan himself. And Jesus answers each one with the Word of God. So what you get is the rhythm of Word of God, followed by action (in this case the life of Jesus) that lives out that Word, which reveals the type of God that we have. The Word is the promise. And we all live by faith in that promise. Faith that Jesus has given to us his victory.

In Step With the Spirit

The great enemies of the spiritual life are usually summarized as The Devil, The World and our Sinful Flesh. And I keep using flesh instead of the more modern sounding nature because that is the word the Apostle Paul uses. Paul’s sinful flesh is not limited to what our minds immediately jump to.  The Apostle is more psychologically attuned to all the ways our gut desires to have and control things.  Those things can be actual things. In more advanced forms they are people.  The will to domination. In St. Augustine’s Confessions he steals the pears not because he is hungry, or because the pears were good pears, or even because they looked good.  He steals the pears because he wants them. And the second he has them he discards them. And it is his meditation on his desire for the pear that defines his sinful flesh. There is nothing good that comes out of it. Any logic or self justification usually comes later to cover the venality.  Augustine’s pears help to show how deep it goes in ourselves.  Augustine was a wealthy man. He had better pears at home. Like Ahab desiring Naboth’s Vineyard (1 Kings 21), or the story Nathan tells to David about the rich man stealing the lone sheep of the poor man (2 Samuel 12), it is the pettiness that brings the pathos.    

I’ve included a sketch out of an older catechism. It was pictorial, so these ideas were things taught to 3rd graders, maybe younger.  You can see the three great enemies referenced: the devil, the flesh and the world. You can also see what that catechism put forward as the spiritual weapons against these enemies.

If the temptation was the flesh, if the desires to have and dominate are overwhelming, the spiritual weapon proposed is fasting. In Christ, through the Spirit, we can mortify the flesh (Romans 8:13). Mortify is an old King James word. The modern translation has “put to death.” It’s the same root as mortician, or probably more familiar, Morticia of the Addams family.  The Spiritual logic is that either we are going to control the desires of the flesh, or the desires of the flesh are going to control us. There is no third way.  As all the apostles would say, “do not be deceived (1 Corinthians 6:9 and elsewhere).”  If we do not learn to control ourselves, a fruit of the Spirit is self-control (Galatians 5:23), what hope do we have of larger things such as the world or the devil?

We have a few weeks in lent, so I’ll return in future weeks with some comments about the other two.  Fasting, prayer and almsgiving are the traditional penitential acts of Lent. Each one deserves 500 words alone. But one last word now.  Please notice that none of these practices are practices of the law.  We do not do these things to deserve salvation. In Christ the victory has been given to us.  And if we find ourselves lost in the flesh, the world or to Satan, Christ calls us back.  Every sinner who repents is greeted as the Father did the prodigal son. These practices are Spiritual practices. They are done in the power of the Holy Spirit. And those who are mature in the faith do not leave such things up to chance, but instead, having crucified the flesh, keep in step with the Spirit (Galatians 5:25). Lent is a season to hear what rhythm your step is keeping. 

A Penitential Season (Ash Wednesday)

Biblical Text: Joel 2:12-19, Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Ash Wednesday is the start of the Lenten season. Lent is a penitential season. Penitential related to penance has a few definitions. Roughly: a good one, one ruled out by the Reformation, and a weak decadent popular definition from that middle one. This sermon thinks its way through those definitions and invites you to take part in a penitential season. Neither decadently, nor in a way that loses the gospel, but in a way directed toward building up faith.

Mountaintop Experience

Biblical Text: : Luke 9:28-36

The text is the Transfiguration. Liturgically the transfiguration is the end of the season of Epiphany. It stands as the ultimate revelation by signs and wonders of who Jesus is this side of the cross. As such it is the picture of the glory of God and direct experience of God now. It is a seeing. The problem is that seeing this side of the cross is without meaning. We might experience God, but what does that experience mean? Any direct experience of God can only be understood through or on the far side of the cross. Jesus is our Passover lamb first before we are brought to the promised land. This sermon is a meditation on all the ways that we desire and seek to see, when what we are bid to do by the voice of the Father is listen. We do not know God by seeing. We know God by listening to his voice.

Moses’ Sight

This Sunday is the culmination of the season of Epiphany. And that culmination is always on the Mount of Transfiguration. My general meditation on the seasons is this. God does some major act in his creation. The start of Epiphany is the end of the Christmas story, the three gentile kings show up with their gifts.  Does anybody really know or understand what has taken place?  The answer is clearly no. Even Mary “gathers up all these things and ponders them in her heart.” And then across the season of Epiphany we “see” various miracles – the signs and wonders – of the life of Jesus.  It is a crawling toward understanding just what has come to us.  Then on that mount of Transfiguration you get the full revelation.  Of course that full revelation is too much in itself.  Peter doesn’t know what he is saying. James and John remain silent telling nobody what they had seen.  How do you explain the vision?

I think that is a common way of experiencing life for many of us.  Something happens.  We know it is something big because it changes things. But we don’t really understand it.  We haven’t incorporated the new event into our personal narrative yet. You only understand it when you can tell the story.  And the story changes. And by the time you can tell it, something else has come.  In the very midst of life surrounded by shadows of ourselves. Sometimes we become crippled, weighed down by how much we don’t understand even of ourselves.

But there is another story that crosses that mount of transfiguration – that of Moses. For as big a role as Moses seems to play in the Old Testament story, the reality is that he is an oddball side character. The story is that of the promise.  Father Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Joseph’s providence. Joshua’s conquest. David’s heart after God. The tabernacle and temple and throne often against the prophetic word.  All of Israel struggling to see and never seeing. But Moses “was 120 years old when he died.  His eye was undimmed, and his vigor unabated.” Being someone who has worn glasses since the third grade, that line has always stuck out.

Moses is the man through whom God performed his signs and wonders over Pharaoh and all Egypt. Moses is the transcriber of the law and the entire Torah, the first five books of the Scriptures.  Moses is the man who talks with God, goes to the mountaintop, delivers the law in cloud and majesty and awe. Moses shepherds the people in the wilderness for 40 years feeding them with the manna and providing the water from the rock.  Moses “was faithful in all God’s house as a servant, to testify to the things that were to be spoken later (Hebrews 3:5).” But Moses was not The Son. Moses knew.  His eyes were undimmed. But Moses is the law.  And the law does not save. Not even Moses.  God would tell Moses to preach to the rock to produce water the 2nd time, and Moses struck it again. And for this careless trespass would not enter the promised land.  With his undimmed vision he was given a sight of it, but in this life would not enter it.

The law is a faithful servant. It gives us eyes to see, probably better than we want to see.  But the servant does not inherit the house.  The Son inherits the house. And we can only receive the Son by faith. We enter the promised land by faith not by sight. The spies saw the inhabitants of the land and deemed it impossible. Joshua by faith crossed the Jordan. In the very midst of life we may not know ourselves but we are known. We may not see with undimmed eye, but we hear the voice of the Son inviting us into the house. Moses takes you as far as he can go. We cross the Jordan by faith.