Category: Sermon Page

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.

What a Priest We Have in Jesus!

Sermon Theme: What a priest we have in Jesus!

Text: Hebrews 5:1–10 Other Lessons: Jeremiah 31:31–34; Psalm 119:9–16; Mark 10:(32–34) 35–45

Goal: That we would draw comfort and confidence from the priestly service of Jesus. Based on a sermon by Rev. Michael W. Henrichs, as printed in CPR

Sermon: We all have our favorite ways of referring to Jesus. We often describe the Son of Man by using titles that are both comfortable and comforting: Jesus is our “Savior” and “Redeemer.” Jesus is our “Lord” and “God.” Jesus is our “Brother” and “Friend,” our “Great Physician” and “Good Shepherd.” Each of these titles highlights a different dimension of our Savior’s service and sacrifice for sinners.

Today we ponder the priesthood of Jesus beneath this theme: What a Priest We Have in Jesus!

Because the priesthood was reserved for those who were chosen by God, the author of Hebrews tells us that Jesus, too, was appointed to priestly service. Jesus’ priestly appointment was made public in a big way at his Baptism. There Jesus was anointed with the Holy Spirit and set apart to serve as our great High Priest. There God declared, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased” (Mt 3:17).

God appointed Jesus as our great High Priest so that he can serve us and help us. Jesus is immensely qualified to do this because he is one of us—bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh, a human man among men. As one of us, Jesus knows. He knows our weaknesses and frailties. In the passage immediately preceding today’s text, the author of Hebrews spells out the comfort we have in Jesus as our High Priest: “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (4:15). Jesus willingly accepted our human weaknesses to suffer temptation, hunger, fatigue, sadness, loneliness, rejection, persecution.

Because Jesus knows our every weakness, he deals gently with those under his care who are ignorant and wayward. That’s us, by the way—ignorant and wayward. Unlike Jesus, we are not without sin. Temptations tangle us up. Sin clings closely to us along every step of the way. We have a habit of straying from our Lord’s plans and purposes. We deviate from his desires, always seeking to serve ourselves rather than those around us.

We can see both our sin and the amazing gentleness of Jesus in today’s Holy Gospel. Imagine it: Nearing Jerusalem, Jesus had just predicted his death and resurrection. This makes at least three times that Jesus told the disciples he would suffer and die. As Jesus made his way to Calvary, a civil war was about to erupt among his disciples. It was more than enough reason to ignite the anger and the wrath of the Rabbi from Nazareth.

But the Rabbi’s wrath was not kindled. As a priest, Jesus dealt gently with his wayward disciples. He neither condemned nor condoned their sin. He did not excuse their conduct, but he set them straight with measured, priestly sympathy. He corrected them lovingly and patiently: “It shall not be so among you,” he said (Mk 10:43). He reminded them of his priestly purpose: “For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (10:45).

Because Jesus is our great High Priest, we have this comfort for ourselves. He deals gently with us. He knows our sins. He knows our ignorance. He knows our weaknesses. He knows our struggles and our sufferings. And Jesus knows these things about us not merely as facts, knowledge, or data; he knows it all as if it was happening to him. He feels for us and suffers with us precisely because he is a human being—like us in every way yet without sin. Not only does our great High Priest know and feel our weakness, but he alone can do something about it. He alone will offer his life as a ransom for us all. What a priest we have in Jesus!

One of the biggest surprises concerning our Savior’s priestly service is that it was a learning process for him. In fact, we could say that Jesus learned to be a priest the hard way—through the school of suffering. Although he’s God and could always know everything, Jesus never used his omniscience when it would just serve himself. He didn’t cut corners. He didn’t cheat. He didn’t jump to the front of the line. Rather, Jesus reverently and prayerfully learned obedience through what he suffered.

When was the last time you tried to learn something new and difficult? Perhaps you downloaded an app to help you learn a new language. Perhaps you watched hours of YouTube videos to learn for yourself how to do a major home improvement project. Perhaps you downloaded a complicated recipe that you might sauté your way to success with a new culinary creation in the kitchen. Whatever you’ve attempted to learn, how did it go for you? Were you ultimately successful? Or did you bite off more than you could chew? Perhaps what you actually learned was that difficult work is sometimes best left to the experts.

Jesus learned to be your priest in the most difficult way imaginable. He learned through what he suffered. Tears would be his teacher. Pain would be his preceptor. Neither nails nor thorns would deter him from learning to be our perfect priest. Jesus’ perfect, priestly prayers continued even as Jesus suffered for our salvation on the cross: “Father, forgive them.” “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” (cf Lk 23:34, 46; Mt 27:46).

Those perfect prayers were an expression of our Lord’s perfect obedience to his Father. Through the school of suffering, Jesus “became the source of eternal salvation to all who obey him” (v 9). Only this reverent priest, Jesus, has secured our salvation. What he suffered was on account of our sin. The pain he endured was a penalty meant for us. The death he died was the necessary ransom to redeem a world of sinful, wayward rebels. Because of his reverence—his perfect, prayerful obedience—his Father raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in glory, where Jesus continues to intercede for us as our great High Priest. Our salvation is found in no one else. What a priest we have in Jesus! There’s one final surprise concerning the priestly work of Jesus. He invites us to share in his priestly work. We are also priests—priests of the perfect priest, called to present our bodies “as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship” (Rom 12:1). As God’s baptized and holy people, we have priestly prayers to offer—priestly service to render to those around us. Our Lord’s perfect, priestly service counts for us. His obedience counts for us. He invites us to learn obedience as we follow him. He promises to perfect our lives through his perfect forgiveness and love. He is, indeed, the source of eternal salvation. What a priest we have in Jesus! Amen.

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.

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.