Fourth Sunday in Lent

Sermon Theme: Jesus put his genuine love into action for you by dying on the cross for your sins. Text: John 3:14–21Other Lessons: Numbers 21:4–9; Psalm 107:1–9; Ephesians 2:1–10

Goal: That you may know the unconditional, genuine love of God the Father found in the death and resurrection of his only-begotten Son, Jesus. Rev. Josemon Hoem, as printed in CPR

Love is a wonderful gift, given at creation, from our heavenly Father. Love is something that we as human beings all desire. We want to feel the warmth, security, and tenderness that comes from being loved or being in love. We want to be loved by our parents, our spouse, our children, our friends, and our coworkers.

Yet no matter how great our love story is, it pales in comparison to the unconditional love that God the Father has shown to us through his only-begotten Son!

Oftentimes we think of love as an emotion, a good feeling, or sweet words. There’s nothing wrong with those things, and they certainly can be a legitimate part of love. Yet at some point, if love is to be a genuine love, it must be willing to be more than just words. Genuine love needs to be willing to become tangible.

Sure, it’s easy to love that cute little baby or that little puppy in the window. But what about loving the unlovable? When was the last time you were confronted by a filthy homeless person, a pesky drug addict, someone you totally disagree with, or one of your enemies—and showed them true and genuine Christian love?

The opportunities for us to show love are not just circumstantial. Genuine love is found in the people that God has intentionally put into our lives, that he has asked us to care for. God’s unconditional love now sets our agenda, guides our decisions, and determines our actions through the same kind of genuine love that he has first shown to us.

I want to remind you that most of the time genuine love is hard work. Love is not always romantic comedies, Hallmark cards, flowers, and Hershey’s chocolate kisses. Genuine love does not always make us feel warm and fuzzy inside. Oftentimes, genuine love means rolling up our sleeves and giving up all that we have. It is important to note that when we give up our life in service to love others, this is not the end of our life. It is, rather, the beginning of a new life. A genuine life focused on and centered in Christ and the love he wants to share.

Genuine love sometimes means saying, “I was wrong, and I am sorry.” Sometimes genuine love means that you love your neighbor enough to call them out on their sins and hold them accountable, reminding them that they, too, need to repent.

Not only is this kind of love hard work, but it can also be painful work. Genuine love sometimes includes sleepless nights and uncontrolled anguish. How painful is it when your love is not returned?

Friends, this is where the rubber meets the road. This is when you find out what genuine love is all about. For it is at those times when love is more than an emotion. It is an action. An action that requires you to give up yourself for the sake of others.

So, what does love have to do with Lent? Everything! God’s love for humanity became tangible in the actions of the life, death, and resurrection of his only-begotten Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. This intimate, unconditional, genuine love that Jesus has for us is at the heart of Lent.

Today, we are inching closer to the day when Jesus shows the ultimate genuine love by dying on the cross to save us from our sins.

I am sure you are familiar with John 3:16, but do you know John 3:17? “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” You see, no greater love can be expressed than what Jesus did for us. Jesus has not been sent into the world to condemn it. No, he has been sent to save the world; and it is only through Jesus that we can truly know what this genuine love looks like.

Christ has shown the ultimate genuine love for you and me by fully giving himself up for us and to us. Jesus has not only given us his love, but he has also given us all that he is, in his very body and blood shed for us, on this very altar. He has given us all that he has and all that he is, so that we may love one another as he has first loved us.

Today, out of genuine love, Christ makes us his very own. That is the kind of genuine love we see in the waters of Holy Baptism, a love that is rich in grace and full of forgiveness. It is our Epistle for today: “But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved” (Eph 2:4–5).

This love that our heavenly Father has for us did not come easy. His love for us cost him a great deal. Matter of fact, it cost him his only Son. It is in the triune God that we see the fulfillment of what genuine love looks like.

In God the Father, we see a genuine love that is modeled by Christ and his Bride, the Church. In God the Son, we see a genuine love that spreads out his arms and dies for us. In God the Holy Spirit, we see a genuine love that does not let us live apart from God but calls us back home into his holy house.

Now, if you think you deserve God’s love, you are wrong. Let’s be honest—most of the time, we really are not all that lovable. You and I are the rebellious children who have not returned our Father’s love but instead have chosen to love how and what we want to love. Yet even in our sin, we are reminded that God is love (1 Jn 4:8b) and that he continues to love us unconditionally, even though we do not deserve it.

The problem with earthly love is that it is all over the place. One moment I love you, and the next I don’t because I’m mad at you. In effect, Jesus is saying, “Forget about yourself, what you think, how you feel, and don’t judge my love by the fickle ways that the world judges love. Instead, look to me, and I’ll show you genuine love.”

Here is your one takeaway: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him has eternal life.” What that means is that

Jesus Put His Genuine Love into Action for You
by Dying on the Cross for Your Sins.

Even though we offer him nothing in return, the Lord says, “This is not the end of your story: I want to write a new, genuine love story just for you.” He did just that for us by giving up his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. In the holy name of Jesus. Amen.

Third Sunday After Lent

Sermon Theme: Jesus disrupts our sinful lives so we can have eternal life in our Father’s house. Text: John 2:13–22 (23–25)

Other Lessons: Exodus 20:1–17; Psalm 19; 1 Corinthians 1:18–31 Goal: That we may be strengthened in knowing and believing that Jesus will stop at nothing to save us from our sins.

Rev. Josemon Hoem, Associate Pastor,
St. Paul Lutheran Church, Fort Wayne, Indiana

Sermon: In our Gospel for today, Jesus seems to be rather disruptive. Listen to our text: “In the temple he found those who were selling oxen and sheep and pigeons, and the money-changers sitting there. And making a whip of cords, he drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and oxen. And he poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables” (vv 14–16).

Today we see a different side of Jesus. We don’t see a babe wrapped in swaddling cloths lying in a manger. He is not a young boy in the temple asking deep theological questions. He is not turning water into wine, healing the blind, caring for the lepers, or raising anyone from the dead. We don’t see him teaching his disciples with winsome parables. No, today we see a Jesus who is all business, making a whip of cords and turning over tables and driving out the money-changers.

Now, you and I probably don’t like this Jesus. We prefer the one that goes after the one lost sheep. We are used to a gentle, soft-spoken Jesus, who calmly confronts sinners while outwitting his enemies. But that is not what we get in our reading for today. Instead, we see a Jesus who goes full bore while holding nothing back.

You might be thinking: Did Jesus lose his cool? Is this really our loving Savior who willingly took our sins to the cross? What happened to the command to love your neighbor as yourself? What about the Jesus that welcomes sinners and eats with them? Aren’t we supposed to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us?

Yes, all of that is true. However, it is important to note that this is not a different Jesus, nor is he really acting out of character. This is our patient, merciful Jesus acting out of love and compassion for his people.

Was Jesus upset? I am sure of it. Was he angry? Probably. I am confident that these actions, especially when Jesus is referring to us, do not mesh too well with our precious views of Jesus as teacher, healer, comforter, and friend.

This is our disruptive Jesus. A Jesus who loves his enemies enough to disrupt them from their sinful life. He knows that their sins are not good for them, and that the wages of sin is death. I want to remind you that the same goes for you. Jesus comes in and disrupts the sinful things in your life and loves you enough to hold you accountable for your sins.

Jesus disrupts the chaos of our world and gives us his peace that surpasses all understanding.

This is the disruptive Jesus that loves us enough to disrupt our sinful lives in exchange for his holy life. That’s ultimately what he wanted to do for the money-changers in the temple. They thought Jesus was losing his cool, when in fact Jesus was staying cool enough to seek to save them from eternal damnation.

The same goes for me when I am dealing with you. As your pastor, I hold you responsible for your sins out of love for your soul. I know that when you sin, it is not good for you, and you align yourselves with the devil.

The easiest thing, for Jesus or your pastor, would be to say nothing and let all sinners go to hell. Instead, Jesus not only says something, but he also does something about our sin. He does this out of love, because he wants each one of us with him in heaven.

“Jesus answered them, ‘Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.’ The Jews then said, ‘It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and will you raise it up in three days?’ ” (vv 19–20).

He was not speaking of the physical building made with stones. No, he is referring to the temple of his body (v 21; see also 1 Cor 6:19).

Jesus goes to the cross and is raised in three days for our salvation. He comes in and disrupts all things that would keep you and me from the loving arms of his heavenly Father. He understands that this is his Father’s house, and he loves his Father. He wants each one of us to respect his Father’s house so that we, too, can be in the Father’s house in heaven forever.

Overturning tables and disrupting life is how our loving and gracious Lord works. Jesus disrupts our everyday life and calls us out on our sins. He commands us to stop listening to the lies of the devil and start doing things the Jesus way.

In the waters of Holy Baptism, Jesus comes to interrupt the evil plans of the devil and claims us as his own. Then, after he has washed us in the font, he feeds us with his very body and blood to sustain and nurture us in the one true faith.

So, before we get too excited about Jesus turning the tables, maybe we ought to check our own tables. Sure, your sins and my sins are different than those in our story for today, but we, too, have been unfaithful to God in a different way.

You and I confess one truth but live another. We say sorry in one breath, all the while holding tight to our favorite pet sins. Perhaps we try to dictate our relationship with God, instead of letting God’s love and forgiveness have his way in our lives.

So here is your one takeaway: Jesus is here today to do a little Lenten housecleaning by overturning the tables of our sinful nature.

Jesus knows there are sinful tables in our lives that need overturning. There are things in our sinful hearts and minds that must be driven out. There are things in our world that interfere with worshiping faithfully in our Father’s house. There are sinful things in our lives that Jesus needs to take a whip to. So that he can forgive them by his cross!

When Jesus disrupts our lives, he is doing it out of divine love and mercy without any merit or worthiness in us. He does this “so that no human being might boast in the presence of God” (1 Cor 1:29).

Jesus Disrupts Our Sinful Lives
So We Can Have Eternal Life in Our Father’s House.

Praise be to our disruptive Jesus who stops at nothing to save us.

In the holy name of Jesus. Amen.

Second Sunday in Lent

A Profound Reality Sermon Theme: Perhaps more than we grasp, “Christ died for the ungodly” is a profound reality. Text: Romans 5:1–11Other Lessons: Genesis 17:1–7, 15–16; Psalm 22:23–31; Mark 8:27–38 Goal: That you are moved to a deeper appreciation of Christ’s reconciling death and therefore to a richer sense of peace and hope, even in the face of suffering. Rev. David L. Adler, Pastor Emeritus, Elkhart, Texas

At the right time Christ died for “THE UNGODLY”

That’s a magnificent statement, isn’t it? The devil, the world, and our sinful nature are all behind the sin of indifference toward Christ’s Passion, suffering, dying, and rising. But God’s Word is more powerful than those enemies, and in his Word today, God through Paul rouses us with a most rousing declaration of what that familiar yet magnificent truth means for us. Paul shows us that Perhaps More than We Grasp, “Christ Died for the Ungodly” Is a Profound Reality. That’s true, first of all, because we probably forget how much we needed Jesus to do this. “Christ died for the ungodly” is profound, first, because we don’t even want to understand how ungodly we were. In today’s Gospel, Jesus clearly taught his disciples that he must suffer, be rejected by the Jewish leaders, be killed, and after three days rise again. Peter’s response? He wanted nothing to do with such a mission and took Jesus aside to rebuke him. The very idea! Why would this be necessary? Indeed, there’s a wholesale dismissing of sin in our culture. Already in the late 1970s, famed American psychiatrist Karl Menninger wrote a book called Whatever Became of Sin? Good question. Maybe in the contemporary mind school shootings still make the list, but abortion, homosexuality, divorce, sex change—certainly not. Yet the divinely-inspired apostle Paul writes in our text, “While we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.” Ungodly! Without God! Paul even says in verse 10, “enemies” of God! Opposed to God! Would kill God, wipe him off our slate, if we could. And don’t overlook the word “we.” We were still weak, ungodly, sinners, enemies. Maybe we’re right on all those major social issues—abortion, homosexuality, transgenderism. Still, surely more than we want to grasp, sin lurks in each of our hearts. We were conceived ungodly, and that wickedness continues in our sinful nature. God does know all of it. By nature, that was you. And you have to face it, because the sinful nature lingers still. Yet Christ died for you, Ungodly. Second, “Christ died for the ungodly” is profound because the death of the Christ for us is far beyond anything we can comprehend. Paul writes, “One will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (vv 7–8). All we are able to bring to the table is weakness, ungodliness, and sinfulness. Sin is a horribly messy business, and understanding that is crucial to seeing how profound is God’s dealing with us. And consider this: It was the Christ who died for us, the ungodly. The sinless Son of God. The one who is all-glorious needs nothing from anyone. Didn’t need you! But nevertheless made us—perfect—because he wanted to be with us and us with him. Who loved us from eternity. And then he’s the one we ignore, insult, try to hide from. What kind of reaction does that get from your boss, your friends, even from those people who love you? This expresses Christ’s substitutionary death for sinners. He carried all of your sin and the sin of all humankind in his body at the cross. He is your substitute—the innocent for the guilty. There he suffered in anguish and died in your place to satisfy God’s wrath for your sins. And that, together with his resurrection from the dead, not only insures victory over sin, Satan, and death, but forgiveness, life, and salvation also are now available through faith in him. Ponder that! Third, “Christ died for the ungodly” is profound because it creates a new relationship that we don’t fully appreciate. Christ’s dying was all to reestablish that broken relationship. Because God does not want to condemn us, he calls and enables us to repent. The Holy Spirit leads us to have sorrow for our rebellion against the Lord of heaven and earth and to believe “that sin has been forgiven and grace has been obtained through Christ” (AC XII 3–6, Tappert, German). Justification and reconciliation are the means by which God brings us into fellowship with himself, with Jesus, and with the Spirit. Christ is present in our lives by his Word and Sacrament. He is present in his Word in all its forms. He is present in his Word in the Holy Scriptures—read, spoken, and expounded, here among us. He is present in his Word connected to the water of Holy Baptism, which brings us into the kingdom of God, creates faith, and, as for Abraham and Sarah in the Old Testament Reading, gives us a divine calling. He is present in his Word of Holy Absolution, which comforts us and releases us from despair. He is present in his Word, which make the elements of bread and wine the Sacrament of the Holy Supper, which nourishes us with his true body and his true blood given and shed for us. The crucified and risen Jesus is with us in every joy and sorrow, every gain and loss, every healing and illness, every triumph and temptation! Do we always fully appreciate this new relationship established when Christ died for the ungodly? Finally, “Christ died for the ungodly” is profound because it enables us to rejoice in something we do understand all too well: sufferings.                                                                                                           “Hope” is the key word. “We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (vv 3–5).  Hope flows out of our dependence on God’s grace. And this hope sustains us in difficult times because its object is the glory of God, regardless of our circumstances. And it is real hope, not hype. It is certain because Christ died for the ungodly. He loves us that much. And since his death has reconciled us to God, reestablished that relationship of peace with God, it is certain that he will be with us even in these most difficult circumstances. This, then, is how and why we can rejoice in our sufferings! Paul powerfully and perfectly exclaims: “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Rom 8:18). To be ours for eternity because Christ died for you, for me, the ungodly. Amen.

Lent Service 2-21-2024

Sermon: Two Interrogations

John 18:12–27 Mid-week Lent 2  2-21-24

It’s dark. The disciples have fled. Jesus, with hands tied, is led by the soldiers through the winding streets of Jerusalem to the house of Annas, the father-in-law of Caiaphas the high priest. It was Caiaphas, John reminds us, who accidently prophesied that it was “expedient that one man should die for the people” (v 14; cf 11:50). John and Peter follow at a distance and then enter the outer courtyard of the house.

John puts our attention on two events happening at the same time: the interrogation of Jesus before the high priest and the interrogation of Peter in the courtyard.

Jesus had prophesied Peter’s threefold betrayal before the rooster crows. It’s coming true. The servant girl at the door asks Peter, “You also are not one of this man’s disciples, are you?” He says, “I am not” (v 17). This should ring in our ears as we recall Jesus in the garden, saying, “I am.” The text leaves Peter warming himself by the fire and brings us inside to Jesus.                                                                                                                     Jesus answers Annas’s questions by indicating that he always taught in public. His is no secret teaching. An officer strikes Jesus on the face, the first of many blows that Jesus will suffer. “If what I said is right, why do you strike me?” Jesus asks (v 23), reminding us that all that he will suffer and endure was undeserved.

Then we’re back to the courtyard. Peter is standing around the fire and is asked again, “You also are not one of his disciples, are you?” “I am not” (v 25). Peter is getting irritated, uncomfortable. A relative of Malchus, the man whose ear Peter had cut off and Jesus healed, also asks, “Did I not see you in the garden with him?” (v 26). A third time Peter denies it; he denies Jesus, and a rooster crows.

The other Gospels tell us that Peter was cursing and vehemently denying Jesus, and at the exact moment of his third and most fervent denial, three things happen: the rooster crows, Jesus turns to look at Peter, and Peter remembers the prediction of his denial. He knows what he’s done, and he comes unraveled. He begins to weep bitterly, and he runs out of the courtyard into the night.

John simply tells us, “Peter again denied it, and at once a rooster crowed” (v 27).

Two interrogations. Tonight, we’ll consider how these

Two Interrogations Confront and Comfort Us.

First, Peter. Peter had gone from napping to sword swinging in a matter of minutes. He had run away with John, gathered his wits, and stirred up his courage to follow at a distance. He was shaking, unsteady, nervous about the drops of Malchus’s blood on his robes. He wanted to know what was happening with Jesus, but he certainly did not want to be known as a disciple. That was too much of a risk. Peter is undercover, a secret follower of Jesus.

But there is something about Peter that causes those gathered around the fire to question him. His look. His accent. His nervous glancing around.

The servant girl at the door, the people standing around the fire, a relative of Malchus: “You are not one of this man’s disciples, are you?”

I wonder what would’ve happened if Peter had been bold to confess, “Yes, I am his disciple and friend.” Would he have been brought before the high priest, called on to make a testimony, bound and led with Jesus to Pilate? Would Peter have been crucified alongside Christ? We’ll never know, because he did not confess but denied him. He was afraid of the ropes, the whips, the threat of punishment and death.

There is a temptation and a danger in the fear of death. Hebrews 2 warns us about this. This is a beautiful and comforting text, but it has a warning for us: “Inasmuch then as the children have partaken of flesh and blood, He Himself likewise shared in the same.” Just as we have a body, Jesus assumes our human nature, our flesh and blood, “that through death He might destroy him who had the power of death, that is, the devil.” The devil, the text tells us, has the power of death, but Jesus’ death is the devil’s destruction. That power can no longer be wielded against us. What’s the result? “[He] release[s] those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage” (Heb 2:14–15 NKJV™). Jesus’ suffering releases us from bondage, but this is a very specific bondage; it is the bondage to the fear of death.

Here’s where we must pay careful attention. If we are afraid to die, the devil has us in a kind of bondage, and he can use that fear against us. He used it against Peter. Peter was afraid of suffering, afraid of crucifixion. “Are you his disciple?” “I am not.” He was a fearful and faithless witness. He was interrogated, and he failed.

Jesus used Peter’s failure to teach him humility and the blessing of forgiveness. Jesus would find Peter some days later, after his death and resurrection, and on the shore of Galilee ask him three times, “Do you love me?” Then Peter confesses and is restored. “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you” (see Jn 21:15–19). Peter repented, was forgiven, and put into the office of preaching the Gospel and forgiving sins.

But Peter in his weaknesses and failings is also put before us as an example, a warning. We, too, will be interrogated. “Are you a follower of Jesus? Are you a Christian?” A confession might be costly. No matter. We confess Christ. We make the good confession. We see this in the second interrogation, Jesus before Annas. The stakes were high, but this is why Jesus came. This is his hour. He is asked to give an account of his teaching and disciples. He replies that he taught nothing in private or in secret. He was in the temple where everyone could hear. No doubt Annas and those gathered that night had heard Jesus teaching on many occasions.

Jesus is telling the truth, but, we notice, he does not defend himself. He does not make an argument for his own innocence. He does not turn the tables on his accusers and show them as law breakers. Like a lamb who is silent before its shearers, he opens not his mouth. Jesus is the righteous One, but he doesn’t claim his own righteousness. He is the innocent One, but he doesn’t defend himself. He has no guilt, but he is bearing the guilt of the world.     So Jesus stands in this earthly courtroom and does not defend himself. Why? So that he could stand in the heavenly courtroom to defend us. “We have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous” (1 Jn 2:1). Jesus before Annas reminds us of the comfort of Jesus before the Father.

You might be interrogated about your faith here on earth, and we pray that we will have faith and courage to confess the Lord Christ. But we will not be interrogated in heaven. The Judgment Day is not an interrogation, to inspect our works and check up on our sins. Jesus stands in your place, and he promises, “Most assuredly, I say to you, he who hears My word and believes in Him who sent Me has everlasting life, and shall not come into judgment, but has passed from death into life” (5:24 NKJV™).

Jesus goes to court, but like everything he does, it is not for his benefit, but yours. The Holy One stands in the place of sinners, suffering for our guilt, so that he can stand before the throne of God and advocate forgiveness—for Peter, for all sinners, for you. He declines to defend himself in order that he can defend you, forgive you, cover your shame with his blood and your guilt with his suffering. Amen

The First Sunday in Lent

Lent 1 2-18-2024

“Get Behind Me, Satan! I’m Baptized!”  Sermon Theme: “Get behind me, Satan! I’m baptized!” Text: Mark 1:9–15 Other Lessons: Genesis 22:1–18; Psalm 25:1–10; James 1:12–18 Goal: That you are equipped by the word of Jesus’ saving work, begun at his Baptism and temptation, to resist the devil, confidently saying, “Get behind me, Satan. I’m baptized!” Thoughts from CPR by  W. Mart Thompson, Associate Professor, Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, Missouri

Sermon

When you experience temptation, say, “Get behind me, Satan! I’m baptized!” The devil tempts us to set our mind on the things of man and not God. He tempts us to sin, to despair, to doubt God’s love and mercy. It’s a battle we face all the time from a hidden enemy. It’s why the Lord’s Prayer teaches us to pray, “Lead us not into temptation. ”Get Behind Me, Satan! I’m Baptized!” is not a mere mantra. It is a confession of faith in the very work of Jesus, who defeated the devil. So how can we be so confident in saying this?

Mark, in his account of Jesus’ temptation, closely connects Jesus’ Baptism with his temptation. He writes that after his Baptism, the Spirit immediately hurled Jesus into the wilderness, where Satan tempted him for forty days. The word “immediately” connects these two events.

Here’s what happened: Jesus’ earthly ministry began as he was baptized by John in the Jordan River. It was a Baptism for sinners. That is important, as we’ll see. When Jesus came out of the water, an amazing cosmic event took place. Mark writes that Jesus saw the heavens “torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove” (v 10). As Jesus sees this, he hears God the Father say, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased” (v 11).

The Father says this because Jesus has set in motion his messianic work to save sinners. He is baptized with the sinners’ Baptism. He has come to be joined to our sinful condition. This pleased the Father. The Holy Spirit is also intimately involved as he now descends upon Jesus, anointing him for his messianic mission.

Jesus’ Baptism, therefore, was a huge inaugural event. The Baptism of our Lord is a very significant part of God’s plan of salvation. Jesus insisted on being baptized with sinners, and the Father commends and the Holy Spirit anoints him for it. The fulfillment of the messianic covenant, made long ago by Jeremiah and other prophets, is now being fulfilled!

If Jesus’ Baptism was the announcement that the Messiah had come to fulfill the covenant God made to save sinners, then Jesus being hurled into the desert was a declaration of war against Satan and the forces of evil. Yes, God had come to take on and defeat the devil!

Once a declaration of war is issued, it is going to happen. You’re committed! In the United States, it takes a two-thirds vote of Congress to declare war against an enemy. In the battle against sin and evil, there’s unanimous consent of the Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—at the Baptism of Jesus. The evil enemy will be attacked. The Holy Spirit immediately drives Jesus into the wilderness to take on the devil. But it is a very strange battle plan. Mark’s account simply says that out in the wild Satan was tempting Jesus for forty days. Imagine what a spiritually immature Peter might have said. Perhaps something like, “Come on, God. Knock this guy out! Don’t put up with this. He’s no match for you!”

Yet Jesus suffers Satan’s temptations for forty days. Why did he do this? It’s God’s plan to save sinners. Jesus must suffer temptation with and for us. He does this for forty days. He’s the promised Messiah who took the place of Israel, which fell into sin and unbelief. Jesus never yielded. He never fell to temptation. He trusted that God would provide for him. The writer to the Hebrews says he was “tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin” (Heb 4:15 NIV).

After the forty days, however, the devil didn’t stop. Luke writes that the devil “departed from him until an opportune time” (Lk 4:13). He would hide his attacks. He would come at Jesus as he did through Peter during his earthly ministry. As he did at the cross, when hecklers taunted, “Save yourself, and come down from the cross!” (Mk 15:30). All were still Satan’s attacks, his temptations to abandon the mission to save sinful humankind.

That final attack on Jesus was at the cross, where the war had its crucial battle. There, Jesus’ Baptism would reach its fulfillment (cf Mk 10:39). When Jesus says, “It is finished” and breathes his last (Jn 19:30), the battle is over; the war is won. He descends into hell, as Paul writes, to make “a public spectacle of [Satan and his evil angels], triumphing over them by the cross” (Col 2:15 NIV). After the triumphal procession in hell, Jesus rose from the dead on the third day. His resurrection announced to the world God’s victory over sin, death, and, yes, the devil!

“Get behind me, Satan! I’m baptized!” is not a mere mantra. It’s a confession of faith that Jesus defeated the devil. A Christian can confidently say this because Baptism gives the promise of that victory to you. The Baptism of Jesus resulted in the defeat of Satan. Your Baptism into Jesus’ death and resurrection promises that same for you (cf Rom 6:3–4).

This is why telling Satan to get lost, that you are baptized, is a good strategy. You need such a strategy because the devil, though defeated, is still on the prowl. When an enemy is defeated in war, the leaders of the defeated country are to meet with the victor to acknowledge defeat and ask for terms of peace. However, the devil remains the “father of lies” (Jn 8:44) and acts as if he isn’t defeated—even though God has declared it so. For now, God allows this. So Satan still goes about prowling and seeking whom he may devour with his temptations, accusations, and lies.

But when he tempts you to doubt that Jesus completely paid for all of your sin, say, “Get behind me, Satan! I’m baptized!”

When the devil tempts you to despair, thinking life is hopeless, when he tempts you to indulge your sinful nature, say, “Get behind me, Satan! I’m baptized!”

And, when you fall and he accuses you of guilt before God, say, “Get behind me, Satan! I’m baptized!”

Therefore, when you face any of these attacks, you can confidently say, “Get behind me, Satan! I’m baptized!”

Now, though, a time is coming when you’ll no longer need such a strategy. Jesus has promised to rend the heavens again and come down a second time. When that happens, the devil will no longer be on the prowl. He will be cast from the earth and “thrown into the lake of fire” (Rev 20:14).

Until that time, you and I do well, in the face of Satan’s temptations, to look to the promise of Jesus’ victory in our Baptism and say, “Get behind me, Satan! I am baptized!” Amen.