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The Resurrection of Our Lord: Easter Day
Sunday, April 17, 2022

“The Power of the Easter Promise” (Luke 24:1-12)

Alleluia! Christ is risen! (He is risen indeed! Alleluia!)

This morning I want to tell you about the power of a promise. Our reading from Luke 24 puts on display the power of a promise. It’s a promise that was good, because of the one who made it. It’s a promise that was good, even though people forgot that the promise had been made; and even though when some people did think about it, they just knew that the promise wasn’t any good after all.

It’s about what happened at the tomb that morning. The angels said to the women, “Remember. Remember how he spoke to you. Remember what he said would happen. Remember the promise.” The promise came true in power back then, and the same promise is true today. Today we marvel at, and take hold of, “The Power of the Easter Promise.”

A promise is only as good, only as powerful, as the person who makes it. So we ask, “Who is the powerful person in this reading? Who are the powerful people?” Well, it’s not the two angels. Angels are powerful, but in this case they’re just acting as messengers. They do nothing but speak to the women. The promise’s power doesn’t come from the angels.

The powerful people in this reading are not the women. And it’s not the apostles or the others with them on that first Easter. What this reading shows us, in fact, is the weakness, the complete inability, and the helplessness of the women and the men who were there.

The women had rested on the Sabbath, and then they thought it was their turn to get to work. In their minds, nothing had changed since Friday afternoon, when evil had done away with their teacher and master. Nothing had changed, so they came to do their duty for his dead body. It’s beautiful in a way, and brave and loving. But it’s completely, utterly wrong. They enter the tomb, but they don’t find the body of the Lord Jesus.

The angels’ words to them show how unaware and helpless and confused they were. “Why are you seeking the living among the dead?” Indeed, what sort of people do you find in tombs? Dead people, and they think Jesus is dead. Do these loving, confused, wrong-headed women have anything to do with the power of the Easter promise? Nothing at all. In fact, they’re living as if the promise had no power, as if it had never even been made.

And the apostles? They come off worse even worse. The women tell them about the empty tomb, and what the angels told them, and about the promise. But it doesn’t do any good. These words seem to the apostles to be “an idle tale,” and they don’t believe the women. Peter even runs to the tomb and sees that there’s no body in there. But all he can do is marvel as he goes home. He doesn’t get it, not yet.

So here’s the point again: The power of a promise does not reside in the people to whom the promise is made. The power comes from the one who makes the promise. This Easter story shows us that no one is saved because of their own efforts, or their own sincerity, or their own anything. The powerful promise was there, but the women and the apostles had nothing to do with providing it with power.

The power comes from the one who made the promise. And that’s why the angels tell the women: “Remember!” Remember what you have forgotten, what you didn’t believe. Remember that he told you, while still in Galilee, that these things must happen. These things had to happen. Jesus told you that he would be delivered into the hands of sinful men, that he would die on a cross, and on the third day–that’s today, by the way–that he would rise from the dead. Dead no more. Never to die again.

It must happen, the angels said. It was the Father’s plan, and Jesus promised it. And it happened because–as we’ve been saying through this whole series–Satan, the chief priests, Pilate, and everyone else meant it for evil, but God meant it for good. Jesus, who preached good news and healed crippled hands, was betrayed into the power of sinful hands. Sinful hands are strong, and they do evil things.

And they crucified him. The evil of injustice, mockery, and blasphemy came against the innocent Son of God. And it had to happen. It was necessary, even though no one knew why at the time. Jesus was numbered among the transgressors, with a criminal on his right and on his left–and in front and behind, and before and after, and all the way down to today, to you and to me. Jesus is one of a kind, in his own category–pure, holy, perfect, innocent, righteous. But God’s plan was for him to be with us, in our place, to die when he didn’t deserve it and we did, and to take the evil of the world upon himself, so it would not come against you. So that your sins would not cling to you or be fastened to you. God’s plan was that the evil would be fastened to Jesus, when he was fastened to the cross.

And he had to rise. He had to, because Jesus came to bring light into darkness and to drive back the power of evil. And the promise meant that God would take the evil and use it for good. And so, death was undone. The tomb was opened. No body was there, because this is the Lord Jesus we’re talking about, and Jesus is the Lord. This is the Easter promise, and it came true and has power, because of the one who made it. Jesus made the promise, in the power of the Father’s plan. Easter is not about the women or the apostles or about you or me. It’s about the one who made and kept the promise.

And the power comes from him, not from them or from us. And yet, the power was for them. The power is for us. And our reading today shows the beginnings of this, especially in the lives of Mary Magdalene and the other women. The power of the Easter promise is a power to turn things around, to turn them upside-down–right-side-up, really–then, now, and forever. The power of the Easter promise transforms lives.

The first life transformed by the promise is the life of the Lord Jesus himself. When he came among us so long ago, he came in a certain way. Lowly. Vulnerable. And although he had power–just ask the people he healed–he moved toward the time when he would set his power aside and be numbered among the transgressors. In a profound mystery, the Lord Jesus emptied himself and became weak and vulnerable. He was mortal, and they killed him. Evil seemed to have the last word.

But the power of the promise that Jesus himself made transformed him, and the Father raised him from the dead. He is still Jesus, still the God-Man that he always was. But now the lowliness is gone. The weakness is gone. He is still our human brother, but no longer is he subject to death. He lives forever. This was the plan, this was the promise, and it has come true. The power of the promise emptied the tomb.

And right at the tomb, you can see the power of the Easter promise beginning to turn the women around, turn their lives right-side up. They come thinking they have work to do, work for their dead master. But the angels tell them: “You’re too late! The work is done! Remember! Remember the promise he made.” “And they remembered Jesus’ words.” They remembered; they realized; they believed. And the change begins. Their plans for putting spices on a dead body–those plans have vanished, like fog burned off in the warmth and sunlight of the day. The women literally turn around! “And returning from the tomb they told all these things to the eleven and to all the rest.”

Ah, the eleven. The promise will transform them, as well. As you read the Book of Acts, you see that the Easter people of Jesus, while they were not perfect, the power was there–the power of Jesus to forgive and restore, to empower and encourage people like Peter and the apostles and the rest of the early Christians.

Dear friends, that power is available today, this morning, because the promise remains the same. All the evil in the world–Jesus took it and overcame it. Jesus died, carrying out God’s plan to take evil and use it for good. Rising from the dead, Jesus broke the power of death. Jesus lives, and he has the power to forgive and restore, to empower and encourage people just like you and me.

This promise is for everyone here. I invite you to believe it and trust it. The promise turned the women around, literally and spiritually. By the power of the promise, you and I can turn from our wrong-headed plans, thinking that our lives are our own that our need for Jesus isn’t all that great. Whatever form it takes, turn from all that pride or unbelief or despair, and be forgiven. Be restored. Be changed. Be transformed.

Because of the power of the promise, what will happen in your life? God will forgive you for Jesus’ sake. As far as the east is from the west, that’s how far he removes your sins from you. God will welcome you, no matter what your past, no matter what you’ve done. Peter fell as far away as you can fall. But Jesus turned him around and restored him and transformed him. God does the same for us today through the power of the Easter promise.

What else will happen in your life, because of Easter? Well, I don’t know what specific blessings and opportunities await you. But I do know this: Jesus lives, and he will be at work. He doesn’t stop working. Our Lord will be at work all the way until the day of the final transformation, the day of his return in glory. By his almighty power, he will raise you from the dead, and he will give to all who trust in him a pure and beautiful eternal life. A life that will never end. Life with God and with one another, in a renewed world, the new heaven and earth. This, my friends–this is the power of the Easter promise.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! (He is risen indeed! Alleluia!)

Good Friday
April 15, 2022

“Evil Friday Is Also Good Friday” (Luke 23:44-56)

The theme for our Lenten journey this year has been “You Meant It for Evil, But God Meant It for Good.” We have seen how God can just plain grab something evil and use it for good, in his larger plan. No one could see it at the time, but that’s how God works.

We see God working this way in our reading tonight from Luke 23. Something evil was happening on the day our Lord Jesus was crucified. But God used it for good–for incredible, tremendous good–which is why call this day “Good Friday.” And so our message tonight: “Evil Friday Is Also Good Friday.”

Tonight I want to bring out both sides of what happened that day, both the evil and the good. That way we can take the world as it is, and we won’t sugarcoat things. But we can also marvel at how our God was at work on that Friday, and how he is still at work in our lives and in our world today.

Now the first thing our text says is this: “It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour.” The darkness is bad. It’s a sign that evil is close at hand. At noon on that Friday, darkness came over the whole land. Recall that the night before, when Jesus was being arrested by people who were doing the will of Satan, Jesus said to them, “This is your hour, and the power of darkness.” So at the crucifixion, this darkness over the whole land should make us tremble. Because there is a real Satan, and there is real evil, and evil is at work that Friday afternoon. There is no question that evil is afoot, out to destroy the Son of God.

What happened next? “And the curtain of the temple was torn in two.” Who tore it? God did. God tore the temple curtain. Why in the world would he do that? This temple was dedicated to his worship. Sacrifices and forgiveness happened at this place for everyone who drew near. But now God makes a crack in the temple, and something worse is coming. Jesus predicted it: “Not one stone will be left upon another.” Why? Because the chief priests had lost their way, and they used their power and influence against the person to whom the temple pointed, namely, Jesus the Messiah. In their blind ignorance they hated–and now are trying to do away with–God’s only Son. For that evil, God’s judgment will come on the temple within the span of one generation. The Roman army will level the temple in the year 70. The splitting of the temple curtain was a sign pointing ahead to that terrible judgment. Because evil was at work on that Friday. Darkness came over the land, and the temple curtain was torn in two.

Then Jesus entrusted himself to his Father’s care: “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” And he died, he breathed his last. He didn’t deserve to die. You and I–we deserve to die. The wages of sin is death, and we have sinned. But Jesus is innocent. He doesn’t deserve this fate. Yet Jesus does die. He dies the death of a criminal, covered in nothing but shame and dishonor. Death by crucifixion. An evil death.

What happens next is a hinge, a turning point. A centurion, a Roman officer in charge of one hundred men–a centurion is there, and he’s been watching and listening. This unexpected Gentile can be like a hinge to help us see that Evil Friday is also Good Friday. He can help us to see the amazing good that God is doing in the face of evil, even using the evil for his good will to be done.

“Now when the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God, saying, ‘Certainly this man was innocent!’” The centurion glorified God. He knew that God was at work in the presence of evil. He stood there in the darkness, faced with cruelty and a death that should not have happened. In the face of that, the centurion glorified God. How much exactly did he know? We can’t be sure. But he did know that the execution of this perfectly innocent man had to be part of God’s plan, and so he glorified God. And so can we.

When Jesus breathes his last, that can’t be the end, it can’t be the last thing–not if God is God, not if justice matters. Evil must not have the last word. Jesus’ complete trust in his Father to receive his spirit will not be the last thing. Not if God cares about the world and about sin and about Satan’s wreckage. The centurion knew that Jesus was deeply innocent, pure, and righteous. And so he glorified God, because more was coming, because good was coming. He may not have known in what form, but good was coming. Evil Friday was also Good Friday. Because Easter was coming.

God was at work on what seemed to be only an evil Friday. The curtain of the temple was torn in two. God rejected the former place of sacrifice and forgiveness, because it was corrupted by its leaders and their sin. But rejecting the temple means also that there is now a new place of sacrifice and forgiveness, a new place where God is present among his people to bless and restore. The new place, the location for God’s blessings now will be Jesus–the body of Jesus. He is the new way, his blood is the new covenant, he is the new place where God is present with his people. Jesus, body and soul, true man and true God. The temple was cracked, coming to an end. Something new was coming. Easter was coming.

Satan meant it for evil, and it was. But God meant it for good, and so it was. God planned to bring people out of the darkness of Satan’s lies and their own sins, and into the light of his peace, his acceptance, his fellowship. Satan did his worst. He waited for the opportune time, and it came. He entered Judas, and Judas did Satan’s bidding. The authorities were tools in Satan’s hand. And there was darkness all around, coming against Jesus.

It came against him, but the darkness could not snuff out his compassion: “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.” The darkness could not snatch any believer, even a dying criminal, from Jesus’ mercy: “Today you will be with me in paradise.” Jesus stood in the gap. He hung where all of us deserve to hang. The darkness came against Jesus, but he did not flinch, and he took it all. He perfectly performed the Father’s plan. And so in faith, he entrusted his spirit to the Father’s hands: “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” Jesus knew that the darkness would give way to light. Evil was at work, but God was at work more strongly still. Evil Friday, yes: Death and darkness were all around. But even more, it was Good Friday: Life and light would return. Because Easter was coming.

Jesus has died. Joseph of Arimathea provides the tomb, and the Galilean women prepare spices to anoint Jesus’ body. What they did that day was beautiful. More beautiful still, though, is the fact that their loving efforts were in vain. The tomb where no one had ever been laid will become the tomb where no one is lying anymore. The spices prepared to anoint a corpse will go to waste. No corpse to be found–only Jesus, alive and well.

That Friday long ago was the turning point, the hinge of history. Everything depends on Friday, and on Sunday. Our lives depend on how God took that evil and used it and then destroyed the evil with the resurrection life of Jesus the Lord. No darkness of sin or guilt can overcome Jesus. When darkness comes in your life, remember Good Friday, and entrust yourself to Jesus, who bore the darkness in your place. When confusion and hardship swirl around you and confuse you, and you can’t find your way back into God’s presence, remember Good Friday and the torn curtain, and Jesus who is God’s presence. Come to him, come to the Lord’s Supper, come to hear God’s promises in Christ. He is God’s presence in our world, and he is for you. If life becomes so hard that it seems like you can’t trust God, and you have no idea what good he can bring out of evil–that’s the time to lean on Jesus, and to learn from Jesus, who trusts his Father. And like the centurion, you can even glorify God, because he is still at work to bring good out of evil.

Evil Friday was also Good Friday, because Jesus stood against the darkness for you. What a God! And Easter was coming. So we end this evening in faith and hope, and we’ll go home and rest as the women did long ago. But we’re not going to prepare any spices to anoint a dead body. Because we know that it was, and is, and always will be, Good Friday.

Holy (Maundy) Thursday
April 14, 2022

“The Eternal Passover That Jesus Desired to Eat” (Luke 22:14-20)

During this season of Lent, we’ve tried to be realistic as we learn again to trust our God. The realism has to do with evil–the evil that betrayed, condemned, and crucified Jesus long ago, and the evil in our world and in our lives also today. In the face of that evil, we trust our God and the plan he carried out in Christ. We can say to Satan, to the world, and even to ourselves, “You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good.”

This evening’s service is a break in the action in a way. It’s because of the gift that the Lord Jesus created that night long ago in the upper room. This is a night to be quietly joyful. It’s a night to marvel at what happened when Jesus ate the Passover meal with his disciples and to marvel at the gift that has come down also to us.

Jesus said to them that night, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you.” That was a particular ritual at a particular moment in a particular place. But it was also an eternal Passover. By “eternal” I mean that it was not isolated, disconnected, alone, or even limited. For the Jews, Passover gathered up and brought to fruition so many things from the past, from the exodus, and the past gave meaning to the present. But that particular moment in the upper room, with Jesus, was part of the most significant event in the history of the world. History was turning a corner that night. And from that Passover came a new gift for the future, a gift that would last until tonight and until the Lord returns in glory. It happened the night that Jesus was betrayed–past, present, and future, all coming together in “The Eternal Passover That Jesus Desired to Eat.”

If you listen, you can almost hear the past rushing into the upper room that night. It was an evening around the year 30. The first Passover happened more than 1400 years before. The point is this: Beginning with the events in Egypt, with Moses and Pharaoh, the plagues and the exodus, every Passover throughout the centuries had been pointing ahead to, leading up to, that night and the eternal Passover that Jesus desired to eat.

A quick review. Israel had been enslaved by Pharaoh in Egypt. But the Lord God set them free. The blood of the lamb marked Israel’s homes and the angel of death passed over. God brought the Israelites out of slavery, through the waters of the Red Sea, and out into a new life on dry ground. The Passover meal began as a remembrance of that liberating event, and down through the centuries, Israel was supposed to remember.

But they didn’t always remember very well. Israel broke their covenant with the Lord. He was eager and willing to be their God. But they wanted to be his people at the same time that they were the people of the Baals and the gods of the nations around them. But a covenant with the true God is exclusive–no other gods. Israel broke the covenant.

The covenant that Israel broke was in need of something greater. God had always planned it that way. Those past events were pointing forward to something greater. And so that night in the upper room, with sin and evil all around, the past came rushing up to cry out: “How long, O Lord? How long until you deliver us again? How long will your people wander? When will you do a new thing?”

And the answer was, “Tonight. Right now.” That particular night remembered the past mercy of God and magnified it. On that particular night, Jesus confronted the slavery of all of the gods of the world and Satan himself. He faced that slavery, took hold of it, and did not let go. On that night Jesus freed sinners of all the ages and invited them to the table. It all came together in the eternal Passover that Jesus desired to eat.

In a way, that evening and the hours that followed were the turning point in all of human history. Jesus embraced the old, even as he created something new. Not utterly new, with no connection to the old. But larger, greater than. New in the sense of “renewed,” greater and stronger and more beautiful.

Jesus begins this turning point in history with the old ritual that the disciples had known their entire lives. Then turning from the old, Jesus gives them something new. “This bread is my body, given for you. As you have remembered deliverance from long ago, now you will have a new deliverance to remember. Do this in remembrance of me.” It was new. “This cup being poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” It was new. The old Passover meal has now passed away. Something new has come.

This new deliverance is once and for all, unrepeatable. Jesus is the ultimate Passover lamb, whose blood is over the people, and whose death protects us from God’s wrath, from death, and from every evil. His death enables us to leave slavery behind, and to be God’s people in freedom and mercy. Jesus is the new and greater Passover lamb.

And there’s even more. Jesus is not just the lamb who protects from death. He is the deliverer, the leader, the one greater than Moses. Jesus is both sacrifice and deliverer, and in that moment that began on Thursday evening, Jesus performs a new exodus. Jesus goes ahead of us into death, death on the cross. He goes ahead of us so that we don’t have to die for our sins. But he also goes through death, through the sea, and he comes out onto dry ground–to a new life that leaves our sins drowned and death permanently undone. Jesus rose to life as the Lamb who was slain but who lives forevermore. He is both Lamb and Deliverer. And he did it for his disciples, for you, and for the whole world. That was the turning point of all of history. The past was rushing forward, and Jesus took it and fulfilled it. This was the eternal Passover that Jesus desired to eat, so that he could do something new, for us and for all people.

Past. Present. And future. The events of that night were for the future, too. Think of what Jesus said: “Do this in remembrance of me.” Even though the sacrifice that Jesus made is one-and-done, once and for all, the new meal that he gave to his disciples is a gift that keeps on giving. The events of that night push out, they keep running out into the future and around the world, as the gospel goes out and is proclaimed and believed. And that new gift of the meal has come from the upper room, through the cross, out of the empty tomb, and down to us. Jesus lives. And our living Lord gives us his true body to eat and his true blood to drink. And he tells us, “Remember.”

Not just “recall,” something you might do only in your head. But “remember,” something you do both in your head and in your heart. Remember and believe. Remember and give thanks. The gift is real. Your remembering does not make it real. We don’t make that happen. The living, ascended Lord Jesus does that. Christ gives us his body and blood for us to eat and drink.

But remembering in faith, in humility, in need–remembering is how all of God’s gifts are received to our benefit, to our blessing. Remembering is faith, faith that says, “Yes, Lord. The new gift is here again for us, protecting us from the death of our sins. The new gift is here again, strengthening us as we draw together in love for one another. We remember you, Lord, and so we eat your body and drink your blood, and we are one body in you. Yes, Lord. The new gift is here again for us, and it will be . . . until.”

“Until.” Twice Jesus says, “until”: “For I tell you I will not eat it again until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.” And a moment later, “For I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.” The gift of Jesus stretches out into the future until it is fulfilled in the coming kingdom of God, until the kingdom comes in all its glory and power. And so, the Lord’s Supper is a gift “until,” until then. It is a foretaste of the feast to come. A banquet at which death will be swallowed up forever. A banquet at which Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob will be sitting. A banquet at which all who remember and believe will be sitting. By God’s mercy, you and I will be sitting there, too.

Past, present, and future. It was an eternal Passover that Jesus desired to eat that night with his disciples. The past was fulfilled, the present was changing all of history, and the future was reaching out even to us here tonight. Tonight, here in the new meal that our Lord instituted, Jesus is bringing forward into your present all that he fulfilled back then–liberation from bondage to sin and death–and he is bringing you forward into his future, the heavenly banquet in the kingdom to come.

Palm Sunday/ Sunday of the Passion
April 10, 2022

“Palm Sunday, Sunday of the Passion” (Luke 19:28-40; 22:1 – 23:56)

Today is a day that goes by two names: “Palm Sunday” and the “Sunday of the Passion.” The title that we’re probably more familiar with is “Palm Sunday.” For it was on this day that Jesus made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, greeted by the cheering crowds, and the people used palm branches to welcome him. Palms were used to indicate victory and triumph. Palms symbolized success and long life. And so on Palm Sunday, Jesus is hailed as the Messiah, the long-prophesied King of Israel, coming to Jerusalem to establish his reign: “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”

The people with the palm branches are correct. Jesus is coming to Jerusalem that day to bring in the messianic kingdom. But the question remains: How will he do it? How will this Messiah establish his kingdom? How will he win his victory? And the answer is, shockingly enough, by his suffering, dying, and being crucified. This king’s conquest will come with some strange signs: being mockingly arrayed with splendid clothing; having an inscription placed over him, “This is the King of the Jews,” but on a cross. From a procession of palms to a criminal’s crucifixion, this is how Jesus will triumph and bring in the kingdom of God.

The suffering that Jesus enters Jerusalem to undertake–this brings us to the other name for this day, “The Sunday of the Passion.” “Passion.” What does this word mean? The root idea literally has to do with someone being acted upon, as in our word, “passive.” So “passion,” as we usually use it, has the idea that someone has been acted upon, has been overtaken, such as by a strong feeling. For example, we say things like “They had a passionate love affair” or “He went about his work with a passion.” Those persons have had something happen to them. They’ve been acted upon.

So too the word “Passion,” when used in connection with our Lord Jesus Christ, has the idea of him being acted upon. It refers to his suffering and death. Thus we speak of “The Passion of Our Lord.” So we refer to this day in the church year not only as “Palm Sunday” but also as “The Sunday of the Passion.” For on Palm Sunday, Jesus enters Jerusalem in order to enter into his Passion, his holy suffering. This is the beginning of the great week, the Holy Week, when our Lord suffers and dies for our sins.

During this Holy Week, we go from palms to passion. That’s the path that our Lord takes to victory. And we hear in the reading of the Passion Gospel just how willingly Jesus lets that suffering happen to him. He certainly knows going into it what’s in store for him. Listen to the things he says: “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer”; “the new covenant in my blood”; “the hand of him who betrays me is with me on the table”; “the Son of Man goes as it has been determined”; “this Scripture must be fulfilled in me: ‘And he was numbered with the transgressors.’” Yes, it’s clear that Jesus knows that suffering is coming for him, and he allows it to happen.

And suffer Jesus did. Betrayed, deserted, denied by his disciples. Rejected by the religious leaders of his people. Railroaded by unjust trials and testimonies. Beaten by soldiers, mocked by onlookers. Nailed like a common criminal to a cross.

But this was not any suffering that Jesus deserved. He had committed no crime. He had committed no sin of any kind. As Pilate declares, three times, “I find no guilt in this man.” As the one criminal next to Jesus says, “This man has done nothing wrong.” As the centurion says at his death, “Certainly this man was innocent!” But on that cross, the Son of God was taking our place, taking the judgment we deserved, so that God’s righteous condemnation would not come against us.

And so the Passion shows what is called Christ’s “passive obedience.” He let fall on him the punishment that we deserve. Even though he did no wrong, Jesus suffered the penalty that God’s law requires for all who break his commandments. That punishment is death under God’s judgment. This is what Christ suffered. “He humbled himself and became obedient unto death–even death on a cross.”

By the death of the righteous Son of God, standing in the place of sinners like you and me–now we are forgiven. All our sins have been atoned for. Christ’s righteousness is credited to our account. We have been redeemed, set free from our bondage to sin and death by the precious blood of Christ. Now God accepts us and cares for us as his dear children, because we have been joined, by baptism and by faith, to his own dear Son.

We said earlier that the word “passion” usually is used in the sense of a “strong feeling,” but when referring to Christ, “passion” means “suffering.” At the same time, though, Christ’s “passion” also shows his “strong feeling.” For Christ’s willingness to suffer in our place does show his strong feeling, his intense desire.

The Passion shows Christ’s desire to do the will of his Father: “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” Humanly speaking–and Jesus is true man, as well as true God–Jesus dreaded the agony that awaited him. Yet he went through with it. So we see here Jesus’ passionate desire to do his Father’s will.

The Passion also shows Christ’s passionate desire toward us, that he has an intense passion to win our salvation. Jesus poured out his blood for you. Jesus cares very deeply about you. He wants you to be saved and to live with him forever. This is why he came. This is why he died. This is why, having risen from the dead, he now sends preachers to you, pastors, to bring you God’s Word, so that you would trust in him and grow strong in your faith. Jesus has a passionate desire for you. He really wants you to have life in his name. And so Jesus’ Passion, his suffering, also shows his passionate desire, both to do his Father’s will and to rescue us poor sinners.

During this week, then, during this Holy Week, we will go from palms to passion. In the kingdom that Christ brings in, the way of victory is the way of the cross. That is the story of this day, “Palm Sunday,” also known as the “Sunday of the Passion.” The Passion of our Lord is where Jesus’ suffering for our sins and his strong desire for our salvation come together. And this is why we come together on this day and praise him with our palms.

Fifth Sunday in Lent
April 3, 2022

“The Rejected Stone Is Our Cornerstone” (Luke 20:9-20)

In our text today, from Luke chapter 20, Jesus is teaching in Jerusalem during Holy Week. Everybody is in town, Jesus, as well as his enemies, who are conspiring against him, plotting to get him arrested and put to death. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Jesus addresses that tension, with his enemies right there, listening to what he says. And what Jesus says in our text, he puts in two parts, using two different images. The first image is that of a vineyard, the second is that of a stone. The first part is the Parable of the Vineyard and the Wicked Tenants; the second part has to do with “the stone that the builders rejected.”

Let’s start where Jesus does, with the Parable of the Vineyard. “A man planted a vineyard,” Jesus begins. The vineyard image was a familiar one for the people of Israel. Several times in the Old Testament, Israel is referred to as a “vineyard.” The idea is that the owner of the vineyard is the Lord God. And as the owner, the Lord has a right to expect good fruit from his vineyard, that is, from his chosen people.

The most famous example of this is in Isaiah 5, the so-called Song of the Vineyard: “My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill. He dug it and cleared it of stones, and planted it with choice vines; he built a watchtower in the midst of it, and hewed out a wine vat in it; and he looked for it to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes.” And as a consequence, then the Lord says what he will do to his vineyard: “I will remove its hedge, and it shall be devoured; I will break down its wall, and it shall be trampled down. . . . For the vineyard of the LORD of hosts is the house of Israel, and the men of Judah are his pleasant planting; and he looked for justice, but behold, bloodshed; for righteousness, but behold, an outcry!”

The message is clear. God had graciously chosen Israel to be his people and had supplied her with every advantage of his grace and favor. His purpose was that she would produce good fruit, things like righteousness and justice, but instead she turned out only sour grapes. As a result, the nation would come under God’s judgment. And in that case, the judgment turned out to be the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple and the Babylonian Exile.

So now Jesus picks up on this vineyard theme in his parable: “A man planted a vineyard and let it out to tenants and went into another country for a long while.” Again, God is the owner, Israel the vineyard. Israel has been entrusted with the privilege of managing the vineyard as tenant farmers. But they don’t own the vineyard; God does.

The owner has a right to expect fruit from his vineyard, so he sends a servant to go and get it: “When the time came, he sent a servant to the tenants, so that they would give him some of the fruit of the vineyard. But the tenants beat him and sent him away empty-handed. And he sent another servant. But they also beat and treated him shamefully, and sent him away empty-handed. And he sent yet a third. This one also they wounded and cast out.”

Notice what happens. The tenants beat and send away the first servant. You would think the owner of the vineyard might get angry and force those evil tenants out. But no. He sends another servant. Again, they beat him and send him away, having treated him shamefully. Now you would think, after this repeat offense, surely the owner will kick them out. But again, no. He sends a third servant. They wound this one and cast him out. The tenants’ behavior is getting worse, more brazen as the story goes along.

The servants in this story stand for the whole line of prophets that the Lord sent to Israel, prophets like Elijah and Jeremiah and so on. The prophets called Israel to repentance and faith, which was the kind of fruit God was looking for. But by and large, Israel did not receive God’s servants, the prophets. Instead, they shamefully mistreated them, rejected their message, and, in many cases, persecuted the prophets personally.

This happened time after time, as reflected in the story. So now, in view of this repeated rejection and mistreatment of his servants, what will the owner of the vineyard do? That, in fact, is what the owner asks himself: “What shall I do? I will send my beloved son; perhaps they will respect him.”

As often is the case in his parables, Jesus stretches reality a bit to make a point. Because this is something that would not happen in real life. What owner would put up with this type of outrageous behavior for so long? And then, after the cruel treatment toward his servants, who would send in his own son to risk the same sort of rejection and danger? But that’s what this owner does. And that’s exactly what God has done. The Lord had put up with Israel’s rebellious behavior for many centuries. But instead of wiping them out, as he had the right to do long ago, the Lord was giving them one last chance. Now he is sending them his own Son. “What shall I do? I will send my beloved son.”

Here is one greater than the prophets: Jesus Christ, the Son of God himself. The one of whom the Father said, “This is my beloved Son.” God’s own Son comes to God’s own people. They ought to respect him. In his character, in his teachings, in his miracles of healing and mercy, Jesus has clearly manifested himself as the one sent from God. Surely Israel will respect him!

“But when the tenants saw him, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir. Let us kill him, so that the inheritance may be ours.’ And they threw him out of the vineyard and killed him.” Keep in mind the drama of what’s happening here as Jesus is telling this story. Jesus’ enemies are right there, in the midst of plotting to do just what the wicked tenants were planning to do: kill the owner’s son, that is, kill Jesus. So, through this parable, Jesus is making it plain that he knows what they are plotting. What’s more, Jesus knows that their plot will be successful. They will, in fact, kill him.

The tenants do indeed throw the son out of the vineyard and kill him. Now again the question comes: What will the owner of the vineyard do? Jesus gives the answer: “What then will the owner of the vineyard do to them? He will come and destroy those tenants and give the vineyard to others.” And that’s what happened. The wicked tenants did meet the end they deserved, and the owner did give the vineyard to others.

After the Jewish nation officially rejected Jesus, their doom was sealed, their time was limited. About forty years later, in A.D. 70, the Roman army destroyed Jerusalem and destroyed the temple; not one stone was left upon another. The Jewish nation lost their position as keepers of the vineyard. God gave the vineyard to others: to the church, which soon became largely Gentile. Israel had rejected Christ and thus forfeited their status as keepers of the vineyard. No longer would they be God’s chosen people for carrying out his mission in the world. Now that distinction would go to the church.

And this should be a cautionary tale for us. How are we doing as stewards of the vineyard God has entrusted to us? Are we yielding the fruit God desires: repentance and faith, love and good works? Do we recognize that the church–our church–is God’s church and should be serving the purposes that God intends: that the gospel of Christ is first and foremost, that the ministry of Word and Sacrament is what we do, and everything else revolves around that? It is a great undeserved privilege we have to be the keepers of the vineyard, and with that privilege comes great responsibility.

Now, going back to our text, Jesus shifts the imagery from a vineyard to a stone. He quotes a verse from Psalm 118: “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” “The stone that the builders rejected”: That of course is Jesus himself. And the supposed builders would be the Jewish religious leaders–the scribes and Pharisees, the chief priests and elders–who rejected Jesus and now are plotting to put him to death. And they will have their way with him. Later that week, they will have him arrested and killed.

But now comes the big surprise: The stone that the builders rejected “has become the cornerstone.” The rejected stone becomes the cornerstone! This is a picture of Christ’s vindication and victory! Jesus was rejected and arrested and put to death on the cross. But this was part of God’s plan. God used their evil to achieve his good. And God’s good plan is good for you! For by his death on the cross, Jesus has atoned for your sins and won your forgiveness. Through the death of the Son, the heir, you do in fact share in his inheritance: resurrection and life everlasting.

And so now the risen Christ is the head of the corner. He is the head of the church. Christ is our cornerstone. In ancient architecture, the cornerstone was the key to the whole foundation. It was specially shaped and selected for its perfect lines, because everything else will literally be built off it. The cornerstone will determine and govern the angles for the whole building.

And that is what our Lord Jesus Christ is for the church. He determines everything that is built around him. He rules and governs all things for the good of his church–that’s us. And this is the best thing there could be for us. For you and I who are baptized into Christ–we are joined to Jesus, we are connected to him. We draw our life from him. We are his temple of living stones. Friends, the good news today is this: “The Rejected Stone Is Our Cornerstone!”