Category: Sermon Page

He Cares: Easter 4 4-21-24

Sermon Theme: Jesus is the Shepherd who cares for you.

Text: John 10:11–18

Other Lessons: Acts 4:1–12; Psalm 23; 1 John 3:16–24

Goal: To find peace and assurance in the knowledge that Jesus truly is their Good Shepherd who intimately knows and cares for them. Sermon ideas gleaned from a sermon by Rev. Dr. James Elmore, in Concordia Pulpit Resources

Sermon

This morning, every one of you will hear everything that is said, read, and sung in this service. But the reality is, not every one of you will listen to everything that is said, read, and sung in this service. Listening is much more involved; it takes effort. We hear things all the time, but it’s only some of what we hear that we tune in to and listen to. With all our present technology and social media, there is an even greater increase in the number of voices coming at us. It can be rather overwhelming to know what “voice” to listen to.

So do we always have discernment about who gets our attention? It stands to reason that we ought to listen to those who care about us. But do we always recognize who cares about us? I mean, who does really, lovingly care for us? How do you even know? Our Scripture for today on this Good Shepherd Sunday speaks to this. It teaches us that

Jesus Is the Shepherd Who Cares for You.

When Jesus came along, his voice was different. It was the voice of someone who cared—really, truly, lovingly cared. “They will listen to my voice,” Jesus said (v 16). How would they know? Because it was not just words, as John says in our Epistle, but it was demonstrated and backed up through Jesus’ actions—which did speak louder than words alone.

In John 10, Jesus claims that he is the “good shepherd” (v 11). “Good” can also be translated as “noble” or “excellent.” The shepherd’s job was not easy. It was tiring and hazardous. In the context of Jesus’ statement, the point of contrast is to those bad shepherds, like the Pharisees and Sadducees, what he calls in our text the “hired hand” (v 12). That person is distinguished by his lack of concern and commitment to the sheep. When danger comes, he flees. He looks out for his own self-preservation and his own self-interest. The good shepherd owns the sheep, so he has a commitment to them. Unlike those other shepherds, Jesus cares for his sheep. He does what is necessary to protect them.

The feature Jesus most highlights as he describes the good shepherd is that he “lays down his life for the sheep” (v 11). Ordinarily, shepherds protect sheep, but they do not die for their sheep. Jesus, the Good Shepherd, cares so much that he is willing to come between his flock and danger. When trouble comes, the hired hand won’t take any risk. He disappears. But Jesus is willing to die for his sheep.

In Jesus’ description, the key word is “for”—and it reflects his commitment to die “for” the sheep in obedience to God’s will. The Good Shepherd has a profound commitment to the ones he loves. We might remember a different image from Ephesians 5. Paul writes, “Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (Eph 5:25). He gave, he surrendered, for his Bride. This is an important point. Jesus was not a victim of human conspiracies: “No one takes [my life] from me, but I lay it down of my own accord” (v 18a). Jesus gave himself to die, but he also took back his life in resurrection: “I lay down my life that I may take it up again” (v 17b). The resurrection was just as much in God’s plan as was Jesus’ sacrificial death.

The term shepherd is what Jesus uses to identify himself. He really is the true Good Shepherd. But remember, shepherd is also a term used to describe those other people who tend to God’s flock, people who have spiritual oversight.

The message of the resurrection can transform lives. The ultimate consequence of Easter is when one’s life is radically changed for the good. When the message of the resurrection is internalized into people’s lives, they become different people. It begins with saving faith in Christ. Then it continues with acts of kindness just like our caring Shepherd performs.

In John 10, what John shows through Jesus’ words, and what stands out, is the presence and care of this Shepherd, one unlike all others. It’s his willingness to lay down his life for his sheep. The sheep have come to trust their Shepherd because of what they know through his actions for them, on their behalf. In all of his interaction with people, Jesus never closes his heart.

As important as such words are to us, they take on a whole new level of importance when it comes to our relationship with God. That’s why God took the most important message any of us will ever receive, and he perfectly translated it into human flesh, so that God’s Word could reach us. Reach me. Reach you. Personally. The “Word became flesh” and came to “dwell with us” (see Jn 1:14).

As he has come among us and is now among us through his Spirit, he cares. In the same beautiful and profound way that the Son and the Father know each other, our Shepherd knows us and our needs—what’s truly important to you, what’s truly important to me. As we tune into his voice, we can know that we are listening to someone who cares. As he was for David in Psalm 23, the Lord becomes “my shepherd” too. He can be trusted to lead, guide, renew, and restore our lives and spirits. And even when we are faced with the enemy of death, we are assured of his presence with us. His good words and actions are a comfort. And he will, as he promised, be with us all the days of our life. His goal is to lead us home.

What does God want you to hear? What does God want you to hear from the voice of our Good Shepherd this morning? Two words. Two words that are deeply profound and life changing: “for you.” They are two words spoken personally to you by your loving and caring Good Shepherd. In the Words of Absolution. In the words in today’s readings. In today’s message. And as ordinary bread and wine are given—an extraordinary things takes place. Jesus gives himself, personally, and says, “for you.” Your Shepherd goes with you today and with you into this week. He cares. Peace. Amen.

Thank you Pastor David Schmitt for brining us God’s word today.

Easter 2 4-7-2024 Easter Makes A Difference                        

Sermon Theme: Easter makes a difference in the lives of those who believe it. Text: Acts 4:32–35 Other Lessons: Psalm 148; 1 John 1:1–2:2; John 20:19–31

Goal: That listeners be encouraged to demonstrate a response to Easter by responding to the needs of others.

Ideas for this sermon were gleaned from Concordia Pulpit Resources by Rev. Dr. Cameron A. MacKenzie,

Indeed, Easter has even crowded out the Old Testament Readings from this Sunday and the rest of the season that follows. They have been replaced by those readings from Acts that show the power of our Lord’s resurrection in the lives of the first Christians.

Sermon

Easter Sunday may be over for this year, but Easter is definitely not. Our church year gives us six more Sundays of the Easter season. But even that is not enough; every Sunday is a “little” Easter. Christians worship on Sundays because Jesus arose from the dead on the first day of the week.

So Easter still matters in the church calendar, but what difference does it make in our lives? Easter Sunday can certainly create an emotional high—great music, powerful preaching, packed churches. Wow! We can all get excited about that, but how about this Sunday? Or the next? Pretty soon we’re back to the same old, same old.

So what difference does Easter make—for you? Our text shows us how indeed

Easter Makes a Difference
in the Lives of Those Who Believe It.

Our text for today shows what a difference it made in the lives of the first Christians. And what a difference! People sold all their property and gave it to the apostles for relief of the needy. That’s hard to believe, isn’t it?

“What’s mine is mine” is much more common and natural and believable. If you have need, maybe I’ll do something about it. I hope that I will, but it’s not a sure thing. After all, I have needs too—bills to pay, things to buy, retirement to save for—lots of stuff. You can’t expect me to take care of you. In this world, you’re on your own. Maybe the government will help, but don’t expect me to bail you out.

That kind of thinking is easy for us to understand. We do it all the time, and not only us. So does everybody else. It’s not even anything new. The ancients used to argue about whether the sun traveled around the earth or the earth around the sun, but both were wrong. Not only the earth and the sun, but the entire universe goes around me. I am the center of it all. My hopes, my desires, my fears, my thinking all center on me—not you, not even God, just me. We call that sin.

Satan’s first temptation to Eve was to replace God with herself. “You will be like God” (Gen 3:5), the devil told her. It wasn’t true, but ever since, the devil has been repeating this lie, and human beings have been falling for it. They define their own values, make their own rules, and do what pleases themselves, including with their possessions. They—or better, we—make gods out of ourselves and so out of our possessions too. I earned it, I bought it, and I’m going to do what I want to with it. It’s mine.

But that, too, is a lie. What we have in this life depends entirely on the goodness and gifts of God—our talents, our opportunities, our successes—all result from what God has done for us. Moreover, what Paul said to Timothy is still true: “We brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out” (1 Tim 6:7).

Of course, Eve soon discovered that Satan’s temptation was a dead end—literally—and so do we, every one of us. We think that we are in charge, until we’re not, but then it’s too late: The wages of sin is death! It all ends in the grave—until it doesn’t!

For Jesus Christ is alive, risen from the dead. So while the wages of sin may be death, “the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom 6:23). That is the difference that Easter makes! Our Lord’s resurrection overcame the penalty for sin, death, because his crucifixion overcame sin itself. He took the sin of all upon himself—starting with Eve, then Adam, and then every last one of their descendants, including those yet to come, including you and me. But now Jesus is alive—just ask no-longer-doubting Thomas. Our God and our Lord is alive! Sin has been paid for; death has been overcome.

Everything is different now. Because of Easter, we know that what Jesus told us about God is true. He is our loving Father. When we were “dead in the trespasses and sins” (Eph 2:1), he took the initiative to redeem us. “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Rom 8:32). Our heavenly Father takes his perfect, tender loving care of us, he provides for us, and at the end of this life, he welcomes us into the next, the paradise about which Jesus spoke to that penitent thief on the cross. The devil may still be lurking, and, for sure, sin rears its ugly head. But neither devil nor sin can take away what we have in Christ: a God who loves us.

That’s why those first Christians could respond as they did to the needs of others. Christ had freed them from the sin of self-interest. God had filled their hearts with his love; and that love overflowed to others, and “there was not a needy person among them” (v 34).

Of course, we live in different times. Here perhaps physical needs are not so pressing. But in addition to the basics, people still have needs: respect, companionship, purpose, security. How good are we at supplying things like these to others in our community? Since God takes care of us, we can take care of others, giving not only our money but also our time, energy, talents, and—more fundamentally—our love to one another in response to whatever challenges life brings. Perhaps this sounds like a sermon for “Stewardship Sunday” instead of for Easter, but these first Christians have given us an example that we cannot ignore—not now, not ever. Easter means something. It changes lives. It changed their lives. Easter makes a difference in the lives of those who believe. So what about you? Amen

A Startling New Reality Sermon Theme: Christ’s resurrection is a life-jarring, startling new reality.

Text: Mark 16:1–8

Other Lessons: Isaiah 25:6–9; Psalm 16; 1 Corinthians 15:1–11

Goal: That you share the totally new life and outlook that the surprising, even life-jarring news of Jesus’ resurrection from the dead gives. Ideas for this were gleaned from a sermon By Rev. Dr. W. Mart Thompson

Sermon

What would be more confusing—to hear about a death or a resurrection?

I know what causes more pain. But what is more unexpected and, in that sense, really unsettling?

To us it seems strange at first that people would respond in bewilderment and fear to the message of Easter. But if we really think about what the message of the resurrection means, it is truly a life-jarring message, especially the first time someone hears it. In fact, Christ’s Resurrection
Is a Life-Jarring, Startling New Reality.

The goal of this Easter message is that you share the totally new life and outlook that the surprising, even life-jarring news of Jesus’ resurrection from the dead gives..

These three women that went to Jesus’ tomb on Easter morning were also near the cross when he died. His death brought them great sorrow and disappointment. No doubt they found it almost impossible to believe that this kind, loving Jesus could be hated, killed by their leaders. But death itself likely didn’t startle them. They were familiar with death, with having loved ones die. In the ancient world, many died young, with an average life expectancy in Jesus’ day of not even forty years of age.

Today we do spend a lot of money and pay other people to make corpses look as lifelike as possible. It’s one way to try to help deal with the pain of death. But as hard as that is, death is not unexpected for us either. Especially for many older people, death has been an all-too-common part of life. If we reach a certain age ourselves, we likely see many of our friends and family go before us.

And so, even though we would like to avoid it, it does not surprise us to see death notices and obituary listings or to turn on the news and hear about sad, tragic ends of life.

We also read in the Bible that death comes to all people because all sin. “The wages of sin is death” (Rom 6:23), we read. “The soul who sins shall die” (Ezek 18:4), says the prophet. No, death is not a surprise.

Now let’s talk about resurrection. Not death, but resurrection is strange to us. Life coming out of death—having a dead loved one come back to life and walk on this earth in a human body, eat food and talk to people, as Jesus did. Now, that’s really different. That’s startling! I’ve never seen it, and neither have you.

After these women reported to the other disciples what they were told, the disciples couldn’t believe it either. It just didn’t seem right: rise from the dead? Jesus had tried to tell them he would rise after death, but that message had not registered in their thinking. Therefore, the angel reminded the women, “He is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you” (v 7). That’s why when Jesus did appear to the disciples, he demonstrated to all that it was really he and that he really did rise bodily from the dead. Remember Thomas putting his hand in the wounds? Recall Jesus eating breakfast with the disciples on the shore? It really was Jesus! He really did come back to life!

The disciples likely didn’t realize right away the huge implication this would have on their lives. They just knew that this makes life really different. But later they would come to realize that this startling new reality unleashed a life-changing dynamic that would affect all of our lives. Ponder this for your life:

Jesus’ resurrection means that all of your sin is forgiven. His resurrection proved that his death was sufficient to pay for all of your sin.

Jesus’ resurrection means that you, too, will rise from the dead, as Paul writes: “Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep” (1 Cor 15:20).

Jesus’ resurrection means that everything about your life right now has changed. It is new. You have a certain hope based on a new reality that even death cannot disappoint. Every day right now is lived with the certainty that “my Redeemer lives” to “bless me with his love; . . . to help in time of need. . . . [To] grant me rich supply; . . . to guide me with his eye; . . . to hear my soul’s complaint. . . . [To] wipe away my tears,” and all the rest. And, oh, yeah, for that last day, “my mansion to prepare” (LSB 461:1, 3–5, 7).

When I think of this new resurrection reality as revealed by the experience of the women, it makes me think of faithful Christians at funerals. After all, these three ladies went to prepare Jesus’ body for burial. Consider the comparison: The mourners gather at the church, viewing their deceased loved one’s body for the final time. The pain of death and the emotions of grief weigh heavy. Those closest to the person have made many preparations in only a few days. It has been a stressful time. After the casket is closed and they come into the sanctuary, their minds are on the one they lost, on how life must go on without their dear departed friend. But then, they hear a startling message. It begins with words like those of Paul, who wrote, “We were buried therefore with him 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” (Rom 6:4). It continues with songs like that very Easter hymn “I Know That My Redeemer Lives” (LSB 461). As the preacher proclaims the promises of Christ’s resurrection in his sermon, they begin to adjust to the new, amazing reality of death being defeated—for their loved one who died in the faith and for them!

Therefore, the new life that comes from the resurrection of Christ means that we approach everything, funerals included, in a new way. We no longer need to think in terms of avoiding the reality of death or pushing thoughts of Judgment Day out of our minds. Jesus did rise from the dead, just as he said! His resurrection promises us new life, eternal life with God! We, therefore, can get used to a new way of thinking, because Christ changed everything when he rose from the dead! By the power of the Holy Spirit, you can get used to and live this new life in the hope and peace of God, which truly does surpass all human understanding, which, because of the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, will guard your hearts and minds unto life everlasting! Amen.

A Glorious Death

Sermon Theme: Jesus’ ultimate glory is his crucifixion, by which he draws us to himself. Text: John 12:20–43

Other Lessons: Zechariah 9:9–12; Psalm 118:19–29 or Psalm 31:9–16; Philippians 2:5–11; Mark 14:1–15:47 or Mark 15:1–47

Goal: That we participate in Jesus’ glory, daily dying to sin and receiving his forgiveness.  These sermon ideas were gleaned from a sermon in CPR by Rev. Michael W. Henrichs,

Sermon: Jesus’ Ultimate Glory Is His Crucifixion,
by Which He Draws Us to Himself.

As if there were still any question about what lay ahead for Jesus, he employs a metaphor to make it even clearer: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (v 24). Jesus is that grain of wheat. Try to keep it and preserve it, and you get nothing. But bury it in the earth, and it rises up to bear much fruit. So it would be for Jesus. He would go the way of death and the grave, just like a seed is cast into the ground. Jesus will lose His life only to take it up again three days later. And in his dying and rising, he will bear much fruit; he will earn the gift of your salvation.

This is what we expect to hear at the beginning of Holy Week—Jesus talking about dying and rising. It’s why Jesus came. It’s why we commemorate this week as holy.

But then—the unexpected. Jesus turns the Palm Sunday tables. If you thought you could glide through Holy Week safely ensconced like a spectator in the stands, soaking up the Passion, pomp, and pageantry, think again. It turns out that dying and rising has as much to do with you as with Jesus. “Whoever loves his life loses it,” Jesus says, “and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life” (v 25). And then comes the phrase that pays: “If anyone serves me, he must follow me” (v 26).That’s you Jesus is referring to. You must follow him. How it goes for Jesus, so it shall go for you. Expect to get treated like Jesus got treated: trials, temptations, turmoil—and, eventually, dying and rising. Follow Jesus, and that’s what you get.

We don’t much care for this way of speaking. But at least nobody can accuse Jesus of false advertising. Jesus never claimed that following him would be easy. Yet that’s the popular myth to which lots of Christians subconsciously subscribe. Popular TV preachers and televangelists often perpetuate this myth. Many of them have been known to say that following Jesus means you can expect nothing but the best, here and now, today.    Follow Jesus, and watch life’s pressures and disappointments melt away. Follow Jesus, and you won’t have depression or sickness or worry. In reality, what Jesus says is, “Follow me, and give up all control. Follow me to the cross and grave. Follow me—and fall into the earth like a grain of wheat and die.”

Everybody dies, of course, so what’s Jesus talking about? What does he mean? Well, the New Testament tells us that Baptism is a kind of death—that in Baptism we are buried with Jesus into death (Rom 6:4)—that in Baptism we died and our life is now hidden with Christ in God (Col 3:3). Amen to that. If you were thinking of Baptism before I mentioned it, give yourself a pat on the back. But remember, the dying and rising of Baptism isn’t a one-time event. It’s a daily occurrence. Baptism is a way of life: dying to sin, rising to new life with Jesus. At one point, Paul wrote, “I die every day” (1 Cor 15:31). What he meant was that, as Luther says in the catechism, every day, our old Adam with all his filth and sin needs to be drowned and die.

What needs to die in you? What part of you needs to be put to death? In what area of life does your old Adam reign supreme? There’s a very selfish way of thinking about Holy Week that goes like this: Jesus died and rose for me so that I don’t have to change a thing—so that I can live complacently and comfortably, without having to do the hard work of changing my sinful life. But in fact isn’t the opposite true? Jesus died and rose for me so that everything is changed in me—so that I can do battle daily against the sin in me—against everything that prevents me from following Jesus. That’s what Luther says baptizing with water indicates. Holy Week is not about living complacently—about watching Jesus’ agonizing prayers, arrest, trials, and crucifixion all unfold with a spectator’s detachment. Holy Week is about the urgency of putting to death every part of you that loves this life more than Jesus and the eternal life he gives.

It’s not easy. It’s painful and difficult. But with Jesus—with faith in Jesus—all things are possible, including the hard work of repentance. It’s a strange combination: death and glory. You and I would never even think of using those two words in the same sentence. What seems glorious to us in this world usually means applause and accolades and compliments. For us, glory means basking in the spotlight, fame and fortune. It means winning, not losing—and certainly not dying. But the glory of Jesus is centered on the cross. The glory of Jesus doesn’t shine; it bleeds. It bleeds for you and for your salvation.

Jesus’ greatest glory is to do the will of his Father, to accomplish what he took on human flesh to do: to lay down his life as a sin-sacrifice for the world—to give up his back to those who struck him—to raise his face to spit and shame, disgrace and mockery. Jesus’ glory shines brightest in the darkness of death—the death of Jesus for you. It was truly a glorious death.

In the glorious death of Jesus, Jesus lifts you up from death to life. In that glorious death, God and sinners are reconciled. Your sin is forgiven. Men and women are justified. “If we have been united with [Jesus] in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his” (Rom 6:5). Die with Jesus—and rise with Jesus. Jesus is drawing you to himself, and he will not stop until you behold him face to face.

You have been crucified with Christ. His glorious death is your glorious death. You no longer live, but Christ lives in you. In Jesus, you are that grain of wheat—a solitary seed—dead to yourself but alive to God in Christ. You’ve been buried in the fertile soil of Jesus’ death so that you, too, might rise and bear much fruit. May this Holy Week be for you absolutely glorious! Amen.