Tag Archive for: lent

Rejoice Greatly!

41 Comments/in /by

Pastor Paul Waldschmidt delivers a sermon entitled “REjoice Greatly!” based on  Zechariah 9:9 at Peace Lutheran Church in Hartford, Wisconsin.

Delivered: Palm Sunday, March 25, 2018

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion.  I was a little surprised when I looked up the word that is translated “rejoice” in my Hebrew dictionary and saw that the word can also mean to run around in a circle. If you get the picture, right now, you’re maybe thinking about a kid on Christmas, so deliriously overjoyed over the present they’ve just unwrapped that they’re literally running around the living room in wild-eyed celebration. Or if you’re still having trouble making the connection between delirious joy and running around in circles, check out this clip….

That. That right there is the Hebrew word—gil—or rejoice and it is the Holy Spirit’s kid on Christmas, just won the championship on a buzzer beater encouragement for us this Palm Sunday.  Hundreds of years before Jesus rode into Jerusalem, the prophet Zechariah wrote about what would happen in Jerusalem. And his exuberant imperative still rings true for us hundreds of years later. Rejoice Greatly, dear friends. Because here comes Jesus!

I don’t want you to think I’m naive. I know that just telling someone to rejoice when they’re weighed down doesn’t necessarily help them a whole lot. In fact, that might even make things worse. “You say I should be rejoicing but I’m still struggling. So now I feel both sad AND guilty!”

The Bible writers understood that too. When they tell us to rejoice, they also tell us why. Paul wrote the Philippians, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again rejoice.”  Zechariah writes in our text, “Rejoice greatly O daughter of Zion, shout O Daughter of Jerusalem, see your king comes to you.”  In the Scriptures, a believer’s rejoicing is inseparably intertwined with the presence of Jesus. When believers see Jesus, rejoicing is the inevitable response. Maybe it’s because he never seems to show up empty handed!

Do you see what he brings in our text? See your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation.  He comes with the key to release you from Satan’s prison. He comes bearing a checkbook with more than enough financial clout to pay your debt of sin. Of course, those are just metaphors. In reality, Jesus rides into Jerusalem with nothing in literally in his hands, so poor that he had to borrow a donkey for the occasion. And yet inside of him, he was carrying gifts of immeasurable worth.

His perfection and his blood. The one to give God what he demands. The other to pay what we owe.  If he was only perfect, yet unwilling to shed his blood. That would do us no good. If he was only willing to shed his blood, but was not perfect. That would do us no good. But he has both, and so he is, as the writer to the Hebrews says, the author and perfecter of our faith.

To put it even more bluntly, Jesus had one job before him—save you from hell and when he shows up amidst the palm branches, you know that He’s come to do just that. The Promised One who would come to crush the serpent’s head is now lacing up his boots.

Your king comes, bringing salvation. The perfection which will count for you, the blood that will cover you. The things that will benefit you for eternity. He doesn’t necessarily bring a lifetime guarantee of happiness, universal acceptance by society at large, or an accident free, injustice free world. Our rejoicing gets dampened some times because perhaps we unrealistically expect him to provide those things, things he has not promised. Don’t stop rejoicing because of what he doesn’t bring. Rejoice at what he does bring. Rejoice your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation.

Rejoice because he still comes to us today. When we hear his Word preached, our King comes to us. There he teaches us about his kingship in this world and in our hearts and in the world to comes. When we gather at his table, our King comes to us. There he gives his royal command for our sins to be banished from his sight, our slate to be washed clean. Is any wonder that right before we approach his table, we echo the song from Palm Sunday? “Hosanna, Hosanna, Hosanna in the highest! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest!”  Where Jesus is, rejoicing follows.

But even after all that, you might say, what if I still don’t feel like rejoicing? We started off with that picture of wild euphoria in our introduction. That’s the picture that our text uses, too. But rejoicing doesn’t always have to look like that.

In fact, we’re going to see in just a few days, Jesus on his knees in the Garden of Gethsemane, sweating drops of blood, overwhelmed with sorrow. His soul was overwhelmed to the point of death, and yet, “for the joy set before him, he endured the cross, scorning its shame and sat down at the right hand of God.” There was no euphoria in the Garden of Gethsemane. But at the same time, the picture and prospect of the good things to come never left his mind. As one writer put it, Jesus looked to a joyful future and that sustained him in a joyless present.

There’s a parallel to our lives. A Christian is always rejoicing, it’s a just a matter of volume. Some times it’s louder than the brass choir on Easter, sometimes it’s barely audible. To put it another way, even without running around in circles in delirium, you can still say, “God, you are good.” Even with a heart that is heavy and eyes that are tear stained, you can still say, “I put my trust in You.” Even when there’s nothing to smile about, you can still look forward to heaven and say, “Thank you for what’s still to come.”

It’s a daily struggle for me and maybe for you too. There are so many things in this world that want to take away our rejoicing. The kitchen floor that sparkles because we worked with mop and bucket soon turns back into the dust bunny trap and the crumb collector. The euphoria of payday Friday gradually turns to the gnawing worry of “please don’t cash that check” Thursday. The news websites refresh every hour with word a different discord and deeper depravities. Marriages and families require a lot of hard work, often with few tangible results. Our faith can often feel like its limping along, our consistency nonexistent, our obedience up and down like a roller coaster. It’s all so frustrating, it’s all so exhausting, it’s all so disheartening, yet through it all, there still is reason for rejoicing!

Our feelings don’t change God’s facts. And that’s a good thing! High or low, happy heart or heavy heart, our God stays the same, his work in Christ unchanged, his love for you undiminished, his Word still true.  Your King still comes to you, righteous and having salvation. On Palm Sunday, your King comes to you. In Word and Sacrament, your King still comes to you. And therefore we have reason to rejoice. And rejoice greatly. Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

Ransom for Debt

41 Comments/in /by

 

Pastor Jeremy Husby delivers a sermon entitled “Ransom for Debt” based on Romans 5:1-11 at Peace Lutheran Church in Hartford, Wisconsin.

Delivered: Sunday, February 25, 2017

There stands the Apostle Paul in the courtroom.  It is not Felix or Festus, the Roman governors, who are presiding at this trial.  The Sanhedrin of Pharisees and Sadducees have no authority here either.  Instead, Almighty God, with his long flowing robes that fill the building, is seated with his gavel that will, with one swift swing, state the eternal fate of the Apostle.

The trial has been long and difficult to endure.  The prosecuting attorney, that ancient and slithering serpent named Satan, has built up a pretty strong case against Paul.  Stacks of facts have been entered into heaven’s evidence.  Exhibit A was pretty powerful; a DNA test proving that Paul was born of sinful parents and, therefore, was sinful, himself.  The case was open and shut right there, but he kept piling on.

Exhibit B was a record of Paul’s words and actions, back when he went by the name of Saul, all done in service to work righteousness, as though he could have earned heaven by his own merit.  Under those false pretenses, everything he tried to put on the positive side of the eternal judgment scale ended up, instead, shifting the balance far beyond the point of no return.

Written affidavits, witness testimony, and even appealing to the omniscience of the all-knowing Judge, himself, the Devil was able to rest his case.  He didn’t even have to work with his typical tools of lies and deception.  Openly and honestly, he made it clear that Paul had incurred quite a debt.  Not to society, but to his God.  And, instead of going to jail, his debt deserved death as punishment; eternal death in the fires of hell.

If you were Paul’s lawyer, what defense would you try to put up?  With even just a small sampling from the book of Acts, you could come up with a few factors that would seem to work in your favor.  You could play the blame game.  Paul was tricked by the prosecutor, himself, into much of his sin.  With every weapon in his arsenal, the Devil convinced Paul that he was doing either what was right or, according to his human rights, what he deserved to do.

Or, maybe, you could try to make the end justify the means.  Yes, Paul did some subjectively sinful things, but that is also what led him to accomplish so much for the good of the Christian Church at large.  He was the greatest missionary who ever lived.  He started a number of churches across the ancient world, in Asia Minor, Achaia, Italy, and Macedonia.

Paul was a good guy.  He changed his life.  He became a completely different person.  Free him because of the man he’s become, not the man that he was.

Would that be the defense you’d argue for yourself as well?  If it was you in the hot seat, with your own sin history heaped in a pile in front of you, would you try to pass the buck or balance the scales with your own record book of good works?

Friends, unfortunately, this is not simply some training exercise for the worst-case scenario.  While it is an illustration, the meat of the matter is all too real. Your God has a class action suit against all of humanity for its sin and guilt.  And, carried to its logical conclusion, the verdict you would deserve would be death.  There would be no defense you could come up with on your own to free your soul from that eternal fate.  As Jesus himself said in the Gospel reading for today, What can a man give in exchange for his soul?

The implied answer to his rhetorical question is that mankind has nothing worthy enough to compensate for the crimes that they have committed; nothing valuable enough to pay the debt they owe to their God because of their guilt and sin.

You don’t have an answer to Christ’s question or a defense for your misdeeds.  You are, as Paul declares in these words from Romans 5, powerless.  You are not simply weak.  It is not as though, now that you know your situation, you can beef up your resume or your record book of good works.  You have nothing.  You are impotent before the omnipotent.

And yet, like the infamous children’s song says so simply, because Jesus loves you, you belong to him and, though you are worse than weak, he is strong.

No, he doesn’t give you a not guilty verdict based on any changes you have made in your life or the good deeds that came in tow.  Instead, in keeping with the courtroom terms, he pounds his gavel with the verdict of justified.  He declares you not guilty, not because of a change in you, but because of an exchange made for you.  Your debt has been paid.  Listen to Paul explain what he knew would acquit him of the case held against him.  Listen to God’s Great Exchange again:

Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ…

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly…

While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him!

Jesus paid the debt you owe with the ransom price of his own precious blood.  He didn’t simply bribe him to forget about the evidence and ignore the consequences he set down in eternity for breaking his Law.  Instead, God fully poured out his wrath on sin.  It just so happens that his wrath ended up being poured out on the man that Jesus had become, not the man that he was.

Your God saw all sinners of all time in a line, and that line led nowhere but to hell, the place that they deserved to go because of sin. But as he saw you there, primed and ready to receive the wrath that you so righteously deserved, something happened.  He rearranged things.  He exchanged Jesus’ perfect life and precious ransoming blood in place of your imperfect life and debt that you owed.  He put all his attention, all his focus, all his wrath on Jesus in place of you.

That is Jesus’ answer to his own rhetorical question and his defense for your courtroom case.  Your sin cannot condemn you.  The prosecutor has lost the open and shut case against you.  With one swift swing of his eternal gavel, God hammered nails into the hands and feet of his Son and, in return, received the ransom payment that covered your debt and the debt of the whole world.

When your day in court finally comes, have no fear.  In that Great Exchange, God has declared you justified.  You are not guilty, now and forever.  Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

This is NOT a Test

14 Comments/in /by

 

Pastor Paul Waldschmidt delivers a sermon entitled “This is NOT a Test” based on Genesis 22:1-14 at Peace Lutheran Church in Hartford, Wisconsin.

Delivered: Sunday, February 18, 2017

CNN reported that “people hugged their children…and they prayed…and they uttered a few final farewells, then they waited for the attack.” A little over a month ago, every iphone in the state of Hawaii buzzed and came alive with a dire message on its screen: Ballistic missile threat inbound to Hawaii. Seek immediate shelter. This is not a drill.

People were jumping down into manholes, abandoning their cars on the interstate, but in the end, there would be no impact, no lives lost, no destruction-because there was no missile. It was indeed only a test. A state employee had missed the memo about there being a training exercise and had sent out the warning text in error. But the people of Hawaii, didn’t know it was test. For them, it was all very real.

I couldn’t get that thought out of my mind when I read the first line of our text for today. “Some time later, God tested Abraham.” God knew this was a test. Reading it today, we know it was a test. But Abraham didn’t. God didn’t announce beforehand “Okay, Abraham, this is just an exercise in preparedness, a little bit of litmus for your faith.” No Abraham didn’t know it was a test. For him, it was all very real.  God had said, “Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about.”

He didn’t know that this was going to have a happy ending during the agonizing, sleepless hours that followed God’s command….and when he got up early the next morning and to leave as God commanded….and when he traveled the three days that it took to get to Mount Moriah, with each step forward bringing his dear son one step closer to the knife.

By the way, if you’re wondering how old Isaac was at this time, we can only ballpark that answer. The Hebrew word that’s used to describe him is used in other places to describes boys as young as toddlers and as old as marrying age. So he could’ve been 4…or 24. The Holy Spirit didn’t think that we needed that information! All we know is that he walked innocently alongside his father to the place of his sacrifice.

It just seems like the oddest story, doesn’t it?  The one who created life, now commands that it be taken away in brutal fashion. In so many other places in Scripture he specifically says, “You shall not murder.” Now he says, “You shall.” And in no other place in all of Scripture, does God command a parent to sacrifice their child—a thought so repulsive, so nauseating that our brains would sooner shut down completely than give any room to any hint of such a horrific prospect. What kind of God is this?

It’s the kind of God who knew exactly what Abraham was going through, the kind of God who knew exactly what it was like to sacrifice his Son, his only Son, the one he loved. Don’t think for a second that the Father wasn’t repulsed and nauseated by the prospect of his Son on a cross. But he found his heart was captivated by an even more horrific prospect—seeing you and me and billions upon billions go to hell.

We might see parallels Abraham and God the Father. We might also see parallels between Isaac in our text and Jesus many years later—both only sons, both dearly loved by their respective fathers, both carrying the wood upon which the sacrifice would take place, both walking up a mountain to their demise.

But it’s the differences that really make you shake your head in wonder and amazement. You see, Isaac was able to walk down from the mountain on his own. Jesus had to be carried down.  The Lord stopped Abraham before he could lower his knife. There was no such last minute reprieve on the cross. Abraham was willing to sacrifice his Son, but God the Father actually did. With Abraham it was only a test, but with the Father—it was the real thing.

It had to be real, because our sins are so real. The hurt feelings that we cause when we lash out in anger or speak without thinking. Those hurt feelings are real. Our desire to please people even if it means displeasing God. That’s real. Our willingness to let other people look bad as long as it means we come out looking good. That’s real. Our distracted worship, our apathy in prayer. They’re real. Our unholy love for the stuff of this world, the unhealthy influence of the people of this world. They’re all real. Oh yeah, and don’t forget to take all those very real sins that fill our days and multiply them by 365 days in a year and then multiply that by every year you’ve been alive. All those real sins all had to go somewhere. That huge pile of stinking garbage had to be dealt with. If that mountain was going to be moved, there could be no last minute reprieve, no interruption from heaven as the hammer was about to hit nail, no voice from above saying, “Okay, stop. That’s enough. This is only a test.” Somebody had to really be punished.

So the hammer did hit the nail. And real blood spilled onto the ground. And the body of the innocent Lamb of God, convulsed and cried out in unspeakable agony. Good Friday was not a test. It was the real thing. Real suffering. Real death. A real substitution–the really perfect taking the place of the really guilty. All resulting in real redemption. And so you can be really sure. God’s love for you is not a test. It’s real. And so is the heaven that waits for you.

So then, back to where we started….why the test? Was God just messing with Abraham? Cuz that doesn’t sound very loving at all. God doesn’t mess with anyone. He’s not petty or manipulative. His goal is too important, too serious for any of that junk. He will do whatever is necessary to get you to heaven. A heart that never gets exercise can become clogged up and even shut down altogether. So also a faith that never gets exercised. And so, to carry the metaphor one step further, our God might schedule a little stress test for us every once in a while.

God has not asked us to make the kind of sacrifice that Abraham was asked to make. But we can all probably think of ways our faith has been put to test. Those times, when the Lord, through the circumstances of life, makes it clear…Your health situation is going to change drastically overnight. Your family situation is going to cause you many tears. Your money situation is going to threaten your way of life. Your faith is going to put a target on your back. Your future is not going to go as you had it planned out. Maybe you come here today in the midst of such testing. We will keep on obeying even when obeying is difficult? Will we cling to him in faith even when nothing makes sense?

Remember Abraham’s obedience and his stubborn clinging to God’s promises. The writer to the Hebrews says, “By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He who had received the promises was about to sacrifice his one and only son….he reasoned that God could raise the dead.”

You see it? When his faith was put to the test, Abraham doubled down. Instead of letting go, he grabbed onto God even tighter, even if went against his every inclination. He obeyed, laser focusing—not on the what ifs or whys—but simply on the promises of God and the power of God. That doesn’t take all the strength we can muster. It takes all the weakness we can muster—surrendering ourselves entirely to the care of the God who promises that he loves us. It’s saying, in effect, “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but whatever happens, I’m going to be holding on to your cross.”

For tests can weary us and tempt us to lose heart. Appearances can deceive us and tempt us to forget. Circumstances can overwhelm us and tempt us to lose perspective. But the cross and what it represents…that will always be there, firmly planted, unmoved, even if in our most difficult of days. There God’s love was put to the test. There his love proved true. Amen.