2 June 2024 - Trinity 1 - Luke 16:19-31

The story of the rich man and Lazarus that Jesus tells in today’s Gospel from St. Luke is intriguing in many respects. It is often referred to as a parable, but it does not bear some of the common characteristics of a parable.

Usually when Jesus tells a parable, he says that it is a parable, and then afterwards gives a more literal explanation of its meaning. His parables also don’t include actual names: no specific name is given, for example, for the good Samaritan or the prodigal son. They are just symbolic people.

But in today’s story, Lazarus and Abraham are both named. And the other typical features of a parable are also missing. This leaves us with the thought that when Jesus said, “There was a rich man,” it is possible if not likely that there really was a rich man.

And this leaves us with the thought that the events in the afterlife involving this rich man, and Lazarus and Abraham, may very well be real events, which, in their essence, really happened as Jesus describes them.

The TV show “Cheers” from several years ago had a theme song that said, “You wanna go where everybody knows your name.” I suppose that’s true.

We all eventually want to go to paradise - to heaven - where God will know our names, and accept us as one of his own dear children. We want to have the comfort of knowing that our names are written in the Lamb’s book of life.

But does God, in this sense, actually know your name? Will he recognize you, and welcome you into heaven, when the time comes?

It is noteworthy that Abraham is named in today’s story. The Bible calls Abraham the friend of God.

Abraham is also the spiritual father of all people - from all nations - who believe God’s life-giving Word, and whose faith is credited to them as righteousness. God definitely knows Abraham, and he calls him by name.

It is also noteworthy that the poor beggar Lazarus is likewise named. In his miserable earthly life he was probably one of the most anonymous people in his community. Few noticed him. Even fewer knew anything about him.

But God knew him as his own dear son. The rich man who lived on the other side of the gate, near where he sat, likely did not know his name. But God knew his name.

His name was Lazarus. That name means “God provides help.” And God was indeed his helper.

Neither the rich man nor anyone else gave him anything, but God in his rich love gave him the gospel. He gave him an eternal hope, and a pledge that his sins were forgiven through the promise of the coming Messiah.

And, like Abraham his ancestor, Lazarus believed God’s promises, and was saved in that faith. When he died, therefore, the angels gently carried him to paradise, and to the fellowship of Abraham and all the saints.

In the eternal scheme of things, it mattered that God knew him personally, by name, and that God claimed him as one of his own. In the eternal scheme of things, it didn’t matter that in this world he was a nobody - unnoticed, and without any power or prestige.

In marked contrast to Lazarus and his impoverished existence, the rich man did have power and prestige in this world. He was wealthy, and lived in great comfort. And he no doubt went to great effort during his earthly life to “make a name for himself” in his community.

He was probably aware of the sick and needy beggar sitting outside his gate, but he didn’t care about him. He gave him nothing - not even the scraps from the table that were going to be thrown away anyway.

The rich man thought only about himself. Other people were important and useful only insofar as they could do something to serve him, or to contribute toward the increase of his comfort.

We can assume that the rich man was someone who was very well-known in his community. But we don’t know his name, because in the Lord’s story he is anonymous.

From God’s perspective, he had no name. He was a man without repentance and faith; a man whose heart remained hardened against God’s Word.

On Judgment Day - after the general resurrection of all the dead, and the reunion of the souls and bodies of all men - this rich man will therefore be among those to whom Jesus will soberly declare:

“I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.”

Like the rich man, maybe we spend quite a bit of effort in “making a name for ourselves” in this world. Do we desire fame? Are we driven by a desire for people to know who we are, and to notice us?

But please remember that in the eternal scheme of things, it doesn’t matter how well-known you are in this life, or how many people know your name. What matters is whether or not God knows your name.

If in your heart you push back against the working of God’s Spirit - proudly defying God’s will, and denying your need for his grace and pardon - and if you therefore have not experienced his deliverance from the guilt and corruption of sin that God offers only in Christ, then, in that sense, God does not know your name.

If in this life you live only for yourself and your own fame, for the satisfaction of your selfish cravings and the fulfillment of your personal ambitions; then in the next life you will be anonymous, as far as God is concerned.

You will have no place in the company of Abraham, Lazarus, and all the saints who died in faith, knowing God and being known by God. Instead, you will be cast out.

But God does know your name, when the name of his Son is placed upon you in your baptism; and when, in repentance and faith, you receive the saving name of Jesus into your heart and life, and place your trust in it. Of Jesus, St. Peter says:

“There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.”

And you can be assured that your name is written in the Lamb’s book of life, when you cling for salvation to the Lamb of God himself, who alone takes away the sin of the world.

Ponder these things especially when you are preparing to partake of the Lord’s Supper. There we praise Christ, the Lamb of God, as he makes himself sacramentally present among us on his altar-throne; and as he feeds us with his body and blood for the remission of sins: so that we can be at peace: with God and within ourselves.

Some people might wonder if there is a possibility for people to repent of their sins and be converted once they are already dead and in hell. The Bible does not hold out such a possibility, and today’s story likewise doesn’t suggest that such a thing happens. Just the opposite, in fact.

When the rich man found himself in the torment of Hades, he was able to see Lazarus a long way off at the side of Abraham. Lazarus was experiencing the bliss of heaven, and all the comforts that he had been denied during his earthly life.

But the rich man was not able or willing to grasp any of this. He was at this point languishing in hell: on account of the sinful callousness, and indifference to suffering, that had marked his earthly life.

But when he noticed Lazarus at the side of Abraham, all he could see was a man whose reason to exist was to serve him. He said to Abraham:

“Send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame.”

The rich man had not changed in the least. In hell he was just as selfish and self-centered as he had been in his earthly life. And he was just as dismissive and dishonoring of Lazarus as before.

But Lazarus was not going to be sent away from the joys of his new heavenly home to be the rich man’s servant, or to wait on him. Abraham replied to his damned descendant in Hades:

‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted and you are tormented. And besides all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed, so that those who want to pass from here to you cannot, nor can those from there pass to us.”

Jesus does not tell us this story in order to satisfy all our curiosities about the afterlife. This story is not a comprehensive explanation of what heaven and hell are like, as the souls of the dead who are now there await the resurrection of all flesh and the final judgment.

But Jesus tells us this story in order to warn us about the fate of people like the rich man. He tells us as much as we need to know, to be able to avoid that fate for ourselves.

As the story continues, we see that the rich man once again wanted Lazarus to be sent out of paradise, to perform yet another task at his bidding. He then said to Abraham:

“I beg you..., father, that you would send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, that he may testify to them, lest they also come to this place of torment.”

On one occasion Jesus had said to his listeners:

“If you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?”

The rich man’s request may therefore have been an indication of the remnants of a natural human affection for his brothers that still remained in his unregenerated and now unregeneratable heart. He was a condemned man, but he was still a man.

But this request may also have arisen from the rich man’s desire to avoid the added misery of having his brothers join him where he was, and then to rebuke and berate him for eternity because of the bad example he had set for them in life: which had resulted in their sharing in his punishment.

It’s easy to imagine that the damned spend a lot of time blaming each other for their fate.

In any case, Abraham answered this second request with these words:

“They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them.”

Indeed, the rich man’s brothers did have Moses and the Prophets. And so do we.

Through Moses and the Prophets - and through all of Holy Scripture - God himself speaks to the human mind and conscience. Listen to him. Listen to God as he warns you of the consequences of unbelief.

A proud skeptic not accepting the reality of hell doesn’t make hell cease to exist, by means of his skepticism. An arrogant atheist not expecting to be judged for his evil life after death, doesn’t cause that judgment not to happen, by means of his atheism.

A general indifference toward the warnings of a holy and righteous God, which characterizes so many people today, does not result in God’s warnings being about nothing.

But also, listen to God as he invites you to come before him in humility; as he invites you in faith to receive his gracious forgiveness and cleansing in Christ; and as he invites you by the indwelling of his Spirit to be at peace with him, now and forever.

God would have wanted the rich man’s brothers to heed this call to repentance, from the Prophet Isaiah:

“Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow’s cause.”

“Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool.”

God also wants us to heed this call; to repent of our sins; and to go forth from our own encounter with God’s mercy bearing the fruits of repentance, in lives of loving service to those in need.

And, God wants you to be comforted by these words from the same prophet: as your faith in Christ inclines your hearts to the promises of God, and opens your hearts to the gifts of God:

“You will say in that day: ‘I will give thanks to you, O Lord, for though you were angry with me, your anger turned away, that you might comfort me. Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid; for the Lord God is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation.’”

“With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation. And you will say in that day: ‘Give thanks to the Lord, call upon his name, make known his deeds among the peoples, proclaim that his name is exalted. Sing praises to the Lord, for he has done gloriously; let this be made known in all the earth.’”

The Lord truly has done gloriously, in the deliverance from death and judgment, and in the salvation from sin and despair, that he has prepared for you, by the death and resurrection of his Son. He has done gloriously in making the testimony of his Word available to you, and in offering you the grace of his sacraments.

He has done gloriously in inviting you to share in the eternal blessings that he bestows on Abraham and Lazarus - and on all who trust in him. And as to one whom he knows by name, and whom he loves fully and deeply through his Son, God gives to your faith this song to sing:

Lord, let at last Thine angels come, To Abram’s bosom bear me home,
That I may die unfearing;
And in its narrow chamber, keep My body safe, in peaceful sleep,
Until Thy reappearing.
And then, from death awaken me, That these mine eyes with joy may see,
O Son of God, Thy glorious face, My Savior, and my Fount of grace,
Lord Jesus Christ, My prayer attend, And I will praise Thee without end. Amen.

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9 June 2024 - Trinity 2 - Luke 14:15-24

The kingdom of God is often described in Jesus’ parables as a banquet, or as a great and festive dinner. Today’s Gospel from St. Luke is one such example.

The imagery of a great fellowship meal with God points us forward to the way things will be for his people in the new heavens and the new earth. But this imagery also points us to the wondrous fellowship that God’s people have with him in the church, through Word and Sacrament, here and now: which is a foretaste of the great heavenly feast that is to come.

In today’s parable, the master, who is the host of the great dinner, represents God the Father. And the servant whom he sends out to inform the guests that the banquet is ready, and to invite them to come to it, is Jesus.

St. Mark tells us that when Jesus began his public ministry, he did so by preaching these words:

“The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel.”

That’s the reality that the invitation to the banquet in the parable is symbolically referring to.

The focus of the lesson that Jesus wants to teach us in this parable is not, however, on the lavishness and splendor of the banquet, but is on who is invited to that banquet, and on how they are invited.

Regarding the three steps or stages that this invitation process involves, there were clear applications for the historical circumstance in which Jesus originally told the parable. And there are clear applications for us today, as Jesus - through the pages of Holy Scripture - once again tells us this parable.

Jesus describes the first group that was invited, and the responses of that group, in these words:

“A certain man gave a great supper and invited many, and sent his servant at supper time to say to those who were invited, ‘Come, for all things are now ready.’ But they all with one accord began to make excuses. The first said to him, ‘I have bought a piece of ground, and I must go and see it. I ask you to have me excused.’ And another said, ‘I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I am going to test them. I ask you to have me excused.’ Still another said, ‘I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come.’ So that servant came and reported these things to his master.”

In the original context, these would have been the religious Jews. Through the Old Testaments promises regarding the future coming of the Messiah, they had, in effect, been sent a preliminary “save the date” invitation.

They knew the Scriptures. They had been taught what the Lord gives to his people, and what he expects from his people in return.

It would naturally have been expected that when God finally brought about the fulfillment of his ancient plan of salvation, through the sending of his Son into the world, they would have welcomed him eagerly, and would have responded positively and without hesitation to God’s announcement that the feast of redemption was now fully ready.

But with few exceptions, the religious Jews of the first century did not welcome Christ, or respond positively to his coming. They were too busy with other things.

In the parable, the things they were busy with were not in themselves wicked or evil things. Just the opposite, in fact. The work of farmers who till the land or who raise livestock is good and godly work. Marriage is a good and godly institution.

But the way in which these otherwise good things and activities were used as excuses for refusing the master’s invitation, shows that the people in this first category of invited guests had turned those things into idols. When God told them to look up from these mundane things, so that they could see the eternal things that were now before them, they refused to do so.

God was not telling them that fields, cattle, and family were unimportant. But he was telling them that the banquet - and the salvation of their souls - was more important. And they ignored him.

Now, to refuse to listen to God, and to ignore God, is a serious matter. And God’s reaction to this is a serious reaction. In the parable, when the servant told the master how his invitation had been treated, he was angry.

There are two sides to God. He is merciful and compassionate, so that he is grieved and anguished when his love is rejected. But God is also wrathful against those who despise him, and he will punish those who disobey him.

Many today would prefer to believe only in a God of mercy, and not in a God of wrath. But God as he actually exists, is both.

And it is especially important that this would be remembered by those today whose situation is similar to the situation of the religious Jews in the first century. I’m thinking now of people who were raised in the church, who were catechized and confirmed, and who even made vows of lifelong faithfulness to God and his Word: but who are now gone.

They, too, like the first category of invited guests in the parable, know what God’s Word is, and what it says. They have been taught its warnings and its promises.

They have professed in the past that they believed that those warnings were valid and that those promises were true. But now, as they pursue their livelihoods, and pay attention to their families, they no longer care. They have no time left for God or for God’s church.

They ignore and dismiss God when he calls them to the feast. Their excuses are good enough for them, and so they need to be good enough for God.

Friends: Anything that disconnects you from God’s banquet of forgiveness, life, and salvation in Christ - and from the ministry of Word and sacrament by which God would feed your faith and nurture your soul - is, for you, an idol. This is still so, even if that thing in itself is otherwise a good thing that God would ordinarily want you to enjoy.

But, he wants us to enjoy the good and honorable things of this world in thanksgiving for his grace and for the means of grace, seeing them as temporal blessings that come from his Fatherly hand. And he wants us to enjoy these things in subordination to our enjoyment of, and our faith in, his gospel - which must always come first.

God does not want us to enjoy these otherwise good things as a substitute for his banquet of salvation. Jesus said in another time and place:

“Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.”

In the parable, when those who would be expected to be most open to the invitation refuse to accept it, the master - that is, God - does not just throw up his hands, or shrug his shoulders, and cancel the banquet.

When those who know better stop caring about God’s Word and about their own souls, that side of God that can get angry, does get angry at them. And then, God sends forth his servant - that is, Jesus the Savior - to invite new people.

“Then the master of the house, being angry, said to his servant, ‘Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in here the poor and the maimed and the lame and the blind.’”

In the original context, this represents Jews who are not particularly religious, and who are spiritually and morally wounded and crippled. But they, too, are now invited.

Jesus’ opponents considered it to be a put-down when they described him as “a friend of tax collectors and sinners,” but that was really just an accurate description of his love for the fallen and his compassion for the lost.

To be sure, Jesus, in the way he lived, did not join them in their fallenness and in their lostness. But he reached down to where they were, pulled them up and out in forgiveness, and in God’s name gave them another chance.

Jesus once said to some critical Pharisees:

“Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy and not sacrifice.’ For I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance.”

This category of “the poor and the maimed and the lame and the blind” can represent in our time those who are part of our communities and who may have deep roots in those communities, and who also may have a remote family history in the Christian church.

But they personally are strangers to God’s house and to God’s ways. They don’t know what goes on in church, or why anyone goes there.

They can’t imagine why anyone would abstain from fornication or drunkenness. Perhaps they struggle with addiction issues. Perhaps they have disgraced themselves through public scandal, or through criminal behavior and jail time. But God is inviting them to the banquet.

Because of their distance from God’s Word, they may not, as it were, have received a “save the date” invitation in the past. They may never have been baptized, or attended Sunday School in childhood.

But they are definitely being invited now. God the Father is inviting them through Jesus, who was crucified for them and who was raised from the dead for them.

And Jesus is inviting them through you and me: as Jesus’ words of law and gospel are spoken to them by you and me; and as a sincere welcoming demeanor is shown to them by you and me.

But God’s banquet hall is not yet full. There are more still to be invited. The Lord’s parable continues:

“The servant said, ‘Master, it is done as you commanded, and still there is room.’ Then the master said to the servant, ‘Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled.”

The highways and hedges, in the original context, would have referred to places where people who had no true and lasting home among the Jews could nevertheless be found.

Hedges were places where drifters and sojourners might try to find temporary shelter. Highways were, of course, the roads that Gentiles, foreigners, and strangers would take through a community: usually without intending to stop in that community, but remaining separate and disconnected from it as they simply passed through.

But these, too, are invited to the banquet of the Lord. They are all invited.

Strangers and foreigners on the road might have a hard time believing that such an invitation is real and genuine. That’s why the master tells his servant to “compel” them to come. In effect, he tells him to grab them by the lapels, shake them, and say, “You really need to come!”

During the time of his earthly ministry, the scope of Jesus’ vocation as a preacher and teacher was limited. He said on one occasion:

“I was not sent except to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”

But now, since the day of Pentecost, Jesus is going to all nations, as he sends his disciples to all nations, and as he promises to be with them as he sends them.

And sometimes, the way in which the church goes to other nations today, is to notice that other nations have come to us, and to the places where we live in this world.

Are there people in our communities who are from somewhere else, with no roots among us; or who have no roots in the Christian faith, but adhere instead to a man-made religion or a false belief system?

I would say that there most certainly are such people, even if we don’t notice them. But God notices them. And God invites them.

And if God invites them, we invite them. Our church is actually his church. And God wants his church also to be their church. God wants his Son also to be their Savior.

And if they don’t believe us the first time we tell them that they would be welcome among us on a Sunday morning, then we need to “compel them to come in.” I don’t mean literally tie them up and drag them over here, but verbally emphasize that

“God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life.”

The world of sinners for whom Jesus died and rose again, is a world that includes them.

Indeed, that world of sinners includes all of us who are here, and who in one way or another, at one time or another, heeded the invitation of Christ to believe in him, to become a part of the kingdom of his Father, and to partake of the marvelous banquet of eternal life that we are enjoying even now in the fellowship of his church.

God’s grace brought us here. God’s grace can bring them here, too.

Our congregation’s services are webcast and archived on YouTube. This is one of the methods by which our congregation seeks to expand its reach and influence beyond those who currently worship here.

And this is one of the ways through which we hope and pray that God will work: to invite other people to come, to confess what he has taught us to confess, and to believe what he has taught us to believe.

To anyone in the first category of invited guests who may be watching now, I say this: Please come home - home to God and home to his church. You know that you belong here. If you no longer live in the town where you grew up, then go to church where you live now.

And if I am to be faithful to my calling as God’s spokesman, I also need to tell you that God is angry at your indifference to him and at your disrespect for his Word. I can’t change the lesson that Jesus teaches us in today’s parable, to avoid having to tell you that. Indeed, Jesus speaks of “the master of the house, being angry.”

But I can also tell you that if you once again put your trust in your crucified Savior, then you will once again know that God’s anger at your sins was absorbed by Christ into himself, in your place, so that you can once again enjoy the grace of God’s forgiveness in Christ, and the lavish banquet of salvation to which he still invites you. Please come to the banquet.

To anyone in the second category of invited guests who may be watching now, I say this: Please know that God’s house can and should become your home. We who have already found a spiritual home here definitely want you here, too.

You will not be mocked or judged by us - although God does judge your sin. But God, in his willingness to forgive, also welcomes you, and we too will welcome you. You are welcome to come next Sunday, and to find a seat next to one of us, so that you can hear God’s Word with us, sing God’s praises with us, and pray for God’s pardon, help, and guidance with us.

You are also welcome to begin walking the special pathway of discipleship and learning that can someday bring you to the Lord’s table with us. God has for you a better way than the way you have chosen up until now. Please come to the banquet.

To anyone in the third category of invited guests who may be watching now, I say this: Please believe us when we tell you that we lovingly acknowledge you as a member with us of one human family, originally created by God in his image and likeness.

Indeed, we all descend together from one ancient father, Adam. Yet we all have inherited from Adam an ancient contagion of sin: which corrupts us on the inside, and which alienates us from our Creator and from each other. From our bondage to this sin we cannot set ourselves free.

But to all of us - to the whole human race - God announces in his gospel that a Redeemer has been sent to reconcile us, to restore us, to heal us, and to unite us to each other in the new fellowship of the new redeemed humanity that this gospel creates.

This message of forgiveness and hope is really for you. You really are invited to become a citizen of God’s eternal kingdom through believing and confessing that Jesus is Lord. Here you will always know God’s protection.

You really are invited to receive from Jesus Christ his Spirit of adoption, by whom you will be brought into God’s eternal family. Here you will always know God’s peace. Please come to the banquet.

We close with these words from St. Paul’s Epistle to the Ephesians:

“You were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For He Himself is our peace.” Amen.

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16 June 2024 - Trinity 3 - Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

“A certain man had two sons.” So begins what is commonly called the parable of the prodigal son, as told by Jesus, and recorded in St. Luke’s Gospel.

In the parable this younger of two sons said to his father, “Father, give me the portion of goods that falls to me.” And the father then divided his property between the two brothers.

In the context of first-century Jewish culture, something like this would actually have been unheard of. The universal practice was that a man’s estate was not divided until he died.

For the younger son to ask that it be divided before then was, in effect, an indication, that this son thought of his father as if he were already dead; that he no longer appreciated having his father’s presence and influence in his life; and that he no longer intended to honor and love his father.

But the father loved this son nevertheless. His love for his son was such, that he went along with this request, rather than getting angry at how presumptuous and disrespectful it was.

If this younger son turned out to be prodigal - that is, extravagant in his spending - the father certainly seems to be quite extravagant in his generosity. Beyond all human expectation, the father loves his son, and gives him what he asks for.

And this helps us to understand that in the parable, the father does not represent an ordinary human father. Rather, he represents God, who loves his children with a superhuman extravagance and graciousness.

But as it turns out, the younger son is not worthy of that love, and misused the premature inheritance he had received. In “a far country” he “wasted his possessions with prodigal living.” And then, in his destitution, he “joined himself to a citizen of that country,” who “sent him into his fields to feed swine.”

Bob Dylan famously sang: “You’re gonna have to serve somebody. Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord, But you’re gonna have to serve somebody.”

The truth of this is illustrated in the parable of the prodigal son. The son had effectively renounced his father, and was no longer interested in serving him. Yet he could not remain detached.

So he began to serve another master. But this was a master who had no personal regard or affection for this young man, and who put him to work in a way that was utterly degrading to him. To a Jew, being forced to be a caretaker of pigs was a humiliating defilement.

Now, if the father in the parable represents God - the one to whom all people legitimately owe allegiance and service - then this citizen of a foreign land, to whom the prodigal son joined himself, represents any and every false god and idol which those who turn their back on the true God then serve, instead of the true God.

One of G. K. Chesterton’s most memorable quotes is that “When men choose not to believe in God, they do not thereafter believe in nothing; they then become capable of believing in anything.”

When you turn your back on God and on his love, the false gods whom you inevitably embrace instead will destroy you. They will not watch over you and protect you. These idols will chew you up - morally, physically, and spiritually - and spit you out.

The devil’s promise always is, that if you remove yourself from God’s authority, you will be free. But what the devil always delivers, is the worst kind of slavery and exploitation, and ultimately death. That’s what the prodigal son experienced.

And that’s also what you have experienced, if you have ever thought and acted like that son: in your mind opposing God, in your heart disrespecting God; doing as you pleased, greedily and selfishly, without regard for honor and duty, obligation and commitment.

The freedom from God that sinful pride tempts us to seek, will bring only misery - a deep and dark misery. But, like the prodigal son in today’s story, anyone who has been caught up in this, and has found himself - in mind and heart - in “a far country,” can come to his senses. He can find a way out, and a way back to God.

In today’s story, when the wandering son did come to himself, and shake himself out of the self-deception that had captivated him, he said to himself:

“How many of my father’s hired servants have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you, and I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your hired servants.’”

And he arose and came to his father.

But do notice what this new inner resolve entailed, and what it did not entail. The son - who regretted his foolishness, and the horrible situation he had gotten himself into - was hoping only that his father would give him a job: that is, a chance to work his way back up to a status more respectable than where he now was.

He wanted to be hired on, so that, under the father’s patronage, he could change his life, and become a responsible person once again.

This is a form of repentance - a change in thinking that involves a disdain for the effects of sin in your life, and a desire to reverse those effects by changing the way you live. But this is not yet a true Christian repentance, or a true Christian faith.

It is moralism: a desire to be a better person, a commitment to work at making yourself a better person, and a belief that God is a kind of “higher power” or heavenly resource who can help you to become a better person.

Now, this is not a bad desire. It is good as far as it goes. But it does not go far enough.

Still, that’s what many people are thinking when they turn to God, in the midst of a life of sin and of the harmful consequences of sin. They want a better life, and they think - they hope - that God can help them. And so they pray for that help.

But what God has for those whom he loves, and claims as his own, is so much more than that. What the father gave to the returning son was so much more than that. While the humbled and ashamed son

“was still a great way off, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight, and am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring out the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet. And bring the fatted calf here and kill it, and let us eat and be merry; for this my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”

True repentance does not only look back on a failed life, with a humble admission that I have not been what I should have been. It also looks forward, with a humble admission that I, by my own efforts, will not be able to make myself truly righteous and fully acceptable to God in the future, either.

There’s something wrong with me on the inside, down deep. There is an inborn flaw in me that I cannot ultimately overcome in this life. And so, if I would be relying only on my own strength, I would be lost. In my weakness, I am without hope.

Maybe, through will power and human persistence, I can become a better person than I was before: at least by outward measurements, and by comparisons with other people.

But I cannot in these ways become everything I am supposed to be before God and in his sight. I cannot make myself worthy of the love of a perfect and holy God, and deserving of a place in his house and at his table.

So, in the parable, the prodigal son’s plan would not have worked. But it didn’t need to work. He didn’t need to find a way to work himself back into his father’s favor.

Sons who come home do not become servants. Sons who come home become sons again. All is forgiven. All is forgotten. Alienation is replaced, not by probation, but by restoration.

The parable doesn’t explain why and how this happens. But this happens for real, in our real relationship with God, because of the teller of the parable - namely Jesus.

Jesus makes this happen, because his obedience covers over our disobedience, and his successes cover over our failures. Indeed, the “best robe” of Jesus’ righteousness is placed upon us, to cover the stains of our unrighteousness.

His blood, shed on the cross for our sins, washes away our shame and guilt. And his resurrection opens up a clear pathway for us into the presence and fellowship of God: who in grace and forgiveness looks upon those who trust in Christ through the lens of Christ, and who therefore sees them as being perfect in Christ.

As St. Paul writes in his Second Epistle to the Corinthians: “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”

As Paul writes to the Galatians: “As many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.”

And as the Prophet Micah prays and confesses:

“Who is a God like You, pardoning iniquity and passing over the transgression of the remnant of His heritage? He does not retain His anger forever, because He delights in mercy. He will again have compassion on us, and will subdue our iniquities. You will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea.”

When we waste what God has entrusted to our care, and when we disrespect God’s authority over us, we do indeed wander away from God. But Jesus reaches out to us - in the far country to which we have wandered in our minds and hearts - and in our minds and hearts he calls us to come to our senses in repentance, and to come home in faith.

In the parable, being invited to the celebratory household meal showed the now-restored son - more than anything else - that he was home, and was fully restored to his place at the table. The killing, roasting, and eating of the fattened calf represent the joyous fellowship that God’s people enjoy with their Creator and Redeemer, and with each other.

This is not a reference to the Lord’s Supper per se. But when Jesus later instituted that sacrament for his disciples - to be for them a special, supernatural participation in him and in his gospel - this was done in light of the first-century cultural understanding that when a host welcomes someone to his table, he thereby welcomes that person, fully and completely, into his life.

God in Christ, through the gospel of Christ, welcomes and re-welcomes you into his life: not so that you can be his employee, working your way into his good graces; but so that you can be fully embraced as his son or daughter, by his grace alone, as you trust in his promises.

Because you are his child, and a member of his eternal family, his home is your home. His Fatherly strength protects you. His divine wisdom guides you. His Holy Spirit enlivens you. His infallible Word instructs you.

As you now eat at his table, you do so with joy and gratitude. As you now serve him, you do so with eagerness and purpose.

In the parable, Jesus tells us: “And they began to be merry.” In God’s real house and kingdom - which by grace is our house, and is a kingdom in which we are citizens - this holy merriment, and this deep rejoicing, will never end. Amen.

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23 June 2024 - Augsburg Confession (transferred) - Jeremiah 6:16-19

Please listen with me to a reading from the 6th chapter of the Prophet Jeremiah, beginning at the 16th verse.

Thus says the Lord: “Stand in the ways and see, and ask for the old paths, where the good way is, and walk in it; then you will find rest for your souls. But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’ Also, I set watchmen over you, saying, ‘Listen to the sound of the trumpet!’ But they said, ‘We will not listen.’ Therefore hear, you nations, and know, O congregation, what is among them. Hear, O earth! Behold, I will certainly bring calamity on this people - the fruit of their thoughts, because they have not heeded My words nor My law, but rejected it.”

Beginning around the year 1811, fur traders began to plot out a safe and reliable route for traveling from Missouri to the Pacific Northwest. By trial and error, they figured out which rivers were navigable, and which were not. They figured out which mountain passes were traversable, and which were not.

In 1843, when land-hungry settlers from the eastern United States were encouraged in earnest to migrate to the Oregon Territory, the “Oregon Trail” that the fur traders had mapped was therefore in place and known, as a reliable route for these settlers to take, so that they would arrive safely at their intended destination.

As the years went by, and as more and more people migrated to Oregon, this trail became well-worn. Anyone with any sense who wanted to go to Oregon, went by means of this oft-traveled route.

Great danger, and a very real possibility of utter disaster, awaited anyone who presumed to try to carve out a new pathway for himself from Missouri to Oregon. And only a fool would think that there would be any reason to do that, rather than following the tried and true Oregon Trail.

Through the Prophet Jeremiah, the Lord gave this directive to his people:

“Stand in the ways and see, and ask for the old paths, where the good way is, and walk in it; then you will find rest for your souls.”

Jesus, during his earthly ministry, also sometimes used the imagery of a path or roadway, in describing the way of faith and of Christian discipleship; and in describing himself as the object of a saving faith. He said, as recorded in St. Matthew:

“Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.”

And as St. John reports, Jesus also said:

“If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

St. Paul draws on the imagery of walking or traveling down a specific pathway that has been laid out before us, when he describes the baptismal life of a believer in Christ, who is clothed and indwelt with Christ. Paul writes to the Romans that we were buried with Christ Jesus “by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.”

Jesus is, as it were, the trailblazer of our salvation. In the spiritual realm, he is similar in some ways to the traders who laid out the Oregon Trail in the early 19th century.

In the context of explaining that we, by faith, are now within the heavenly and spiritual temple of God, the Epistle to the Hebrews tells us that in Christ we have “a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever.”

From one perspective, Jesus does indeed show us the way, and tell us what the pathway back to God truly is. He calls upon us to repent of our sins.

“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand,” he says. And he invites us to come to him for the peace of divine forgiveness. “Come to me,” he says, “and I will give you rest.”

From another perspective, though, Jesus - in his person and work - is the way. “Come to me,” he says.

And in his First Epistle to the Corinthians, St. Paul says of the Lord, and of our relationship with him: “You are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption.”

The pathway of salvation that Jesus has prepared for us, to which he points us, and that he himself embodies, is a well-worn pathway. The saving truth of God to which we have access in the prophetic and apostolic Scriptures is the same saving truth to which God’s people have always had access.

The Epistle to the Hebrews therefore says:

“Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Do not be led away by diverse and strange teachings.”

And this is a necessary warning. The apostle Paul also offers such a warning in this admonition to his protégé Timothy:

“Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching. For 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, and will turn away from listening to the truth, and wander off into myths.”

Today, we as a Confessional Lutheran congregation are marking the anniversary of the Presentation of the Augsburg Confession. This took place, at the Diet of Augsburg, in 1530.

Between Martin Luther’s posting of the 95 Theses in 1517, and the meeting of this imperial assembly, much had transpired in the religious life of Europe. The medieval practice of selling indulgences had reached a new low.

Johann Tetzel, under the pope’s authorization, had told his audiences that the purchase of an indulgence would release from purgatory the soul of a loved one - or even the purchaser’s own soul when he dies someday. Luther, as a professor of Holy Scripture and as a pastor - indeed, as a called and ordained “watchman” of the Lord - raised an objection to this.

He saw nothing of indulgences in the Bible, let alone of the procuring of indulgences through money. And while he was at it, he also saw nothing in the Bible of purgatory, and nothing of the kind of papal authority that could invent doctrines such as this: which actually contradicted what the Bible does said about the true comfort that the gospel offers to those who struggle with the guilt of sin and with the fear of death.

In his Epistle to the Romans, St. Paul writes that Abraham

“did not waver at the promise of God through unbelief, but was strengthened in faith, giving glory to God, and being fully convinced that what [God] had promised He was also able to perform. And therefore ‘it was accounted to him for righteousness.’ Now it was not written for [Abraham’s] sake alone that it was imputed to him, but also for us. It shall be imputed to us who believe in Him who raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead, who was delivered up because of our offenses, and was raised because of our justification. Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.”

Paul also writes that “the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

The reason why there is such a thing as a Lutheran Church is because many others saw what Luther saw, and evaluated the pope’s teachings regarding indulgences, regarding purgatory, and regarding himself, in the same way as Luther did. These teachings were the kind of “diverse and strange teachings” that the Epistle to the Hebrews warns against.

An examination of church history showed that the orthodox church fathers of antiquity did not hold to the unbiblical ideas then being promoted by Rome, either. The pope and his followers, with respect to the question of how troubled sinners receive God’s grace and find comfort in their fears and trials, has departed from the sound and true pathway that God had laid out for the church in his Word, and that many generations of believers in the past had joyfully and eagerly followed.

And so, the Lutherans called for reform in these areas, and for a clarified and clarifying reassertion of all the ancient truth of God’s revelation regarding who God is, who man is, and how God saves man from sin. When the Emperor asked the Lutherans to present their case for reform and to confess their faith, at the Diet of Augsburg in 1530, they willingly complied.

Luther’s posting of the 95 Theses is considered the beginning of the Lutheran movement. The presentation of the Augsburg Confession is considered the beginning of the Lutheran Church.

This confession remains as the primary testimony to the old truth of God’s Word to which our forebears in the faith adhered, to which we adhere, and to which we hope and pray our progeny will likewise adhere.

The Augsburg Confession is almost 500 years old, so it is not new. It describes the old pathway of salvation on which we, by faith, still walk.

But even when the Augsburg Confession was new, it was actually old. It contained no doctrinal innovations.

It reaffirmed the church’s belief in the Triune God and in the incarnation of God’s Son, as the ancient Creeds had affirmed. It declared Jesus to be humanity’s Savior, through his sinless life, his atoning death, and his glorious resurrection.

It admitted humanity’s deep need for a Savior, due to the sinful corruption, the spiritual hostility toward God, and the spiritual separation from God, that all people have inherited. It recognized the supernaturally-powerful sacraments that Jesus instituted for his church.

It affirmed the ancient legacy of faith and worship that had been passed down through the centuries, and identified the Lutherans with the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church that Jesus had instituted and that had always existed.

And in those specific areas where the papacy had diverged from the old pathways of sound doctrine and of evangelical preaching, the Augsburg Confession brought necessary correction and recalibration, calling upon the whole church to return to the old pathway, and to stay on the old pathway.

“Stand in the ways and see, and ask for the old paths, where the good way is, and walk in it; then you will find rest for your souls.

Other groups that dissented from the errors of Rome had also begun to emerge by 1530. But those groups dissented not only from Rome’s errant teaching, but also from much of Rome’s correct teaching - regarding things that the Lutherans had no problem with. These other groups - specifically the Zwinglians, and various strands of Anabaptists - were now introducing their own new errors.

And so the Augsburg Confession addressed those problems, too, and professed its agreement with the established church when the established church was in fact correct, over against these new sectarian movements. The sectarian groups had “turned away from listening to the truth” in ways that were in some respects worse and more spiritually dangerous than the ways in which the papacy had turned away.

The Roman Church was not wrong about everything. Indeed, the Roman Church was not wrong about most things.

Regarding the doctrines of God, of Christ, of the life of Christ, and of the sacraments instituted by Christ, the Scriptural teaching in its essence was still adhered to. And the Lutherans continued to adhere to that Scriptural teaching, albeit with some fine-tuning.

Historic liturgical traditions that reminded Christians of what the Bible teaches regarding these universally-accepted truths, and that served to pass on these Biblical teachings through familiar texts and meaningful symbols, were likewise retained. The Augsburg Confession states that the Lutherans are doing this, and it explains why.

These matters of history regarding the Augsburg Confession - where it came from, and why it was composed - are interesting. Or at least they should be.

But the chief purpose that the Augsburg Confession serves among us, is as a very contemporary witness to the unchanging gospel of Christ crucified for sinners. This gospel saves us from sin and death, fills us with peace and comfort, and prepares us for eternity.

The Augsburg Confession brings conviction to our conscience, as it reminds us of our sins, and as it exposes those sins. The Augsburg Confession announces God’s forgiveness, life, and salvation to our conscience, as it repeats - word for word - the gracious message of hope and life that God reveals in Scripture.

You are saved from your sins by Jesus, as you trust in him, and not by the purchase of an indulgence, or by anything else that you might buy or do.

The Augsburg Confession serves us well in directing us to the divinely-instituted means of grace, through which God works to create and strengthen our faith. God’s Word gives eternal life, because Jesus’ Spirit is in it. Baptism saves, because Jesus’ promise is in it. The Lord’s Supper forgives, because Jesus himself, in his body and blood, is in it.

And the Augsburg Confession shows us what God’s will for us is - in how we now live our lives - by reminding us of the callings into which God has placed us; and by reminding us of the good works that God wants us to perform for our neighbors, in his name and to his glory.

In all of these ways, the Augsburg Confession, by God’s providence, is an instrument in God’s hands for keeping us on the old pathway that he has laid out for us. It is a testimony to our desire to remain on that pathway. And it is an invitation to all others to join us on that pathway.

“Stand in the ways and see, and ask for the old paths, where the good way is, and walk in it; then you will find rest for your souls.” Amen.

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30 June 2024 - Trinity 5 - Luke 5:1-11

Simon Peter, the fisherman from Capernaum, had been introduced to Jesus by his brother Andrew. Andrew in turn had been directed to Jesus by John the Baptist, whose disciple he previously had been.

After Peter got acquainted with Jesus, he became what we might call a part-time disciple of the Lord. He spent time with him during his travels in Galilee, listening to him, and trying to come to a better understanding of who he was and of what he was doing. But Peter also continued to pursue his livelihood as a fisherman.

This process by which Peter was becoming better acquainted with Jesus had included the events that took place at the wedding in Cana. Peter was no doubt one of the disciples who was with Jesus at that wedding, and who had helped to drink up the original supply of wine. So, Peter would have been glad that Jesus was around on that occasion, so that he could miraculously replenish the supply of wine, for him and the other wedding guests.

Another event that had taken place during this time, was Jesus’ healing of Peter’s mother-in-law, who had been suffering with a fever. Peter would have been glad that Jesus was around for this miracle as well.

But in today’s Gospel from St Luke - which describes some things that took place not long after this healing - we see a different kind of reaction from Peter, and a change in Peter’s thinking about whether he really does want Jesus to be around, and to be a part of his life.

Peter defined his life as a Jewish fisherman. That’s what he was. Sometimes he attended weddings, and sometimes he had sick relatives, but those things did not define him.

Peter had welcomed the miracles of Jesus into those aspects of his life, which were on the periphery of his existence and not at the core. Peter was intrigued by Jesus’ ability to replenish wine or to heal a fever.

But now, in today’s text, Peter is no longer intrigued by Jesus, and he is no longer comfortable with having him around. In the events that today’s Gospel recounts, Jesus is not staying at the periphery of Peter’s life.

He is inserting himself into the essence of who Peter is as a fisherman, as he brings about a miraculous catch of fish. For Peter, that is too close, and too threatening.

When Jesus does get this close, and seems to be probing him more deeply, Peter then also starts to think about those things in his life - and in his heart - that he would rather hide from Jesus.

As a Jewish fisherman, Peter knows that the God of his people is a holy and righteous God, who is angered by human sin and wickedness. The biblical stories of the flood of Noah and of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, with which Peter would have been very familiar, are just a couple examples from history that show how God may indeed react to human rebellion and disobedience, when he finds it.

And so, to the extent that Jesus in some way represents God, then to that extent Peter is now beginning to fear what might happen to him if Jesus stays around.

Jesus is no longer seen only as a source of blessing, who can solve relatively unimportant problems such as wine running out or an old woman having a fever. Now Jesus is seen as a potential source of punishment, and of divine disapproval, on account of the many sins that Peter knows are in his life and in his heart - sins of which his conscience is reminding him.

Therefore, in response to today’s miracle from Jesus, which caused a large number of fish to fill up Peter’s net, Peter - in fearful humility - cried out:

“Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!”

When Jesus had turned water into wine, Peter did not want Jesus to depart. And Jesus did not depart. When Jesus had healed Peter’s mother-in-law, Peter did not want Jesus to depart then, either. And Jesus did not depart.

But when Peter - at Jesus’ word - let down his nets into the water; and when those nets became filled with such a large number of fish that they began to break, Peter changed his mind about the relationship that was developing between him and Jesus. Now he did want Jesus to depart.

But Jesus did not depart. And from Peter’s perspective, things then got even worse!

Instead of departing, Jesus got even closer to Peter; that is, he became more intense in the claims he was making on Peter, and in the plans that he was making for Peter. We are told that Jesus said to him:

“Do not be afraid. From now on you will catch men.”

When Jesus, with his supernatural power, was somewhat close - but not too close - Peter was glad to have him around. He was glad to have more wine to drink at the wedding, and he was glad to have a well and healthy mother-in-law.

When Jesus was functioning as the giver of earthly gifts which improved the quality and happiness of Peter’s life in this world, Jesus was welcome. And for many today - us included - Jesus is likewise welcome, when he comes to give us daily bread, to heal our physical diseases, and to bestow upon us other material blessings.

We don’t mind it when Jesus is close enough to us, to be able to do these kinds of things for us, according to the needs of our bodily life. And when that is all he is doing - or seems to be doing - he is still at a safe distance from our heart and conscience: not challenging us or threatening us.

But what happens when Jesus wants more than that with you, and from you? What happens when he wants to get much closer, and to be more intense not only in pressing you to admit your flaws and failures, but also in the claims that he is making on you, and in the plans that he is making for you?

Your initial reaction probably would be the same as Peter’s reaction, when you become more aware of your sinfulness - in contrast to God’s holiness and righteousness, as reflected in the teaching and character of Jesus. And when Jesus gets really close, and instead of just bestowing a few external blessings on your life, seems to want to take over your life: that will scare you, just as it scared Peter.

We talk a lot about the forgiveness of sins in this church, as we should. But before you can appreciate Jesus getting really close to you, to be the forgiver of your sins, you need to face up to the fact that you are sinful, and that you have displeased God through your bad decisions, your bad attitudes, and your bad actions.

And you need to be honest about the fact that you are currently displeasing God, as you are currently sinning against God and your neighbor in thought, word, and deed. You need to be like Peter, who knew that in himself he was not worthy to be in Christ’s presence.

That kind of honesty will make you uncomfortable. And it should make you uncomfortable. That kind of honesty will make you afraid. And it should make you afraid.

This is what God’s law does, when it shows you what God expects of you: and, when it makes you contrite over the fact that what God has expected is not what God has seen. The words of Psalm 38 then become your words:

“O Lord, do not rebuke me in Your wrath, nor chasten me in Your hot displeasure! For Your arrows pierce me deeply, and Your hand presses me down. There is no soundness in my flesh because of Your anger, nor any health in my bones because of my sin. For my iniquities have gone over my head; like a heavy burden they are too heavy for me. My wounds are foul and festering because of my foolishness.”

These words represent the complex emotions and the tangled thoughts that found expression in Peter’s anguished declaration, when he concluded that Jesus was getting too close, and was probing him too deeply:

“Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.”

But as I have noted, Jesus did not depart. Jesus stayed. He stayed to absolve Peter and to take away his fear, by the healing power of his words. And he stayed to bestow upon Peter - the Jewish fisherman - the new vocation that would now define the rest of his life:

“Do not be afraid. From now on you will catch men.”

And Jesus stays with you, and gets even closer to you, when you initially feel - in your guilt - that you would rather not have him around; and when you initially feel that you would rather not face up to the hard truth that your sins have invited God’s wrath upon you.

In your subconscious mind and in your emotions, you may feel that having Jesus too close is having God’s wrath too close. But then God tells you something that is more important, and more life-changing, than anything else he could ever say to you. He tells you: “Your sins are forgiven.”

The message of God’s law is followed by a message of pardon and peace, for the sake of your Savior Jesus Christ who died for you. It is followed by a message of acceptance and justification, for the sake of your Lord Jesus Christ who rose again for you.

And then, in the joy of faith, the words of Psalm 103 become your words:

“Bless the Lord, O my soul; and all that is within me, bless His holy name! Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits: who forgives all your iniquities, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from destruction, who crowns you with lovingkindness and tender mercies, who satisfies your mouth with good things, so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s. ...”

“The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in mercy. ... He will not always strive with us, nor will He keep His anger forever. He has not dealt with us according to our sins, nor punished us according to our iniquities. For as the heavens are high above the earth, so great is His mercy toward those who fear Him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us. As a father pities his children, so the Lord pities those who fear Him.”

Jesus told Peter, “Do not be afraid,” because Jesus was not getting up close to Peter in order to condemn him because of his sins, but in order to save him from his sins. And when Jesus speaks to you in his gospel, in his absolution, and in the words of his Sacred Supper, he is also thereby telling you, most fundamentally: “Do not be afraid.”

God is holy. Jesus, the Son of God, is holy. But God in his mercy makes you holy too, and compatible with his holiness, through the washing away of your sin from you, and through the crediting of his Son’s righteousness to you.

In the grace of the salvation that God freely bestows upon us, the words of Psalm 32 become our words:

“Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man to whom the Lord does not impute iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit.”

So, from that perspective, it is a good thing to have Jesus close - really close: in the words that enter your ears and mind, in the bread and wine that enter your lips and soul, and in the Spirit of Christ who dwells in your heart.

And Jesus will take over your life - as he took over Peter’s life. You will not be called to the same vocation as Peter was called to. His full-time apostolic office was unique and extraordinary. And not everyone is called to be an ordinary public minister, either.

But Jesus will be in charge of the vocation, and the relationships, in which he does place you, whatever they may be. He will orient your values, shape your thoughts, and guide your steps, as you move forward in a life of loving service to him and to your fellow man.

He will, according to your calling, and according to your faith, step out in front of you, glance back gently and lovingly, and say, “Follow me.” And you will follow.

Like Peter, you too are a sinful man - or a sinful woman. Like Peter, you too will be tempted to draw back from Christ in shame because of your sin.

But you are a sinful man - or a sinful woman - whose sin is atoned for by the shedding of Christ’s blood. And your shame is overcome by God’s acceptance and adoption in Christ.

And so, as Jesus embraces you in forgiveness, you do not push him away in fear. You embrace him in hope. You trust in him and cling to him. You believe in him. You follow him. Amen.