Category: Sermon Page

Second Sunday of Easter
April 24, 2022

“Only Jesus: No Other Name” (Acts 4:1-12; Revelation 1:4-18; John 14:1-14)

Something significant, something momentous, happened in the city of Chicago 175 years ago this week. No, I’m not talking about the day I was born. I was born in Chicago, yes, but I’m not quite that old. No, but something else was born there 175 years ago. It was the birth of our church body, the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod. It was on April 26, 1847, that representatives from fourteen Lutheran congregations came together at First St. Paul Lutheran Church on the north side of Chicago, and they formed a brand new synod. They were all German-speaking congregations, mostly from the Midwest, so they called the new synod “Die Deutsche Evangelisch-Lutherische Synode von Missouri, Ohio, und andern Staaten,” that is, being translated, “The German Evangelical-Lutheran Synod of Missouri, Ohio, and Other States.”

Well, in the 175 years since then, we’ve grown from fourteen congregations to about 6,000. We’ve expanded far beyond the Midwest, with congregations all across the country and mission work and partner churches all around the world. And we’re not nearly as German as we used to be: You’ve let some of us Scandinavians in, as well as Blacks and Hispanics and Asians and every ethnicity under the sun. But there’s one thing that still binds us all together, and it is this: “Only Jesus: No Other Name.”

“Only Jesus: No Other Name.” That is the theme for our synod’s 175th anniversary year, which begins on Tuesday. “Only Jesus”: He alone is able to bring us to God. “No other name” has been given to men by which we must be saved. This saving message has been the central focus of our synod’s work throughout our history, and we pray that that will never change. “Only Jesus: No Other Name.” This morning I want to show you how this message has been the glue that has held our synod together through many challenges, and how Jesus alone will give us hope for the future–for our synod, for our congregation, and for each one of us personally.

The Missouri Synod was formed in 1847, but the story begins a few years before that. In 1839, a group of Lutheran pastors and laypeople in Saxony, Germany, were persuaded by a powerful preacher to leave their homes and their congregations there and to join him as their leader and set sail for America. They came up the Mississippi River and settled in Perry County, Missouri, south of St. Louis. Through a series of misfortunes and the cloud of scandal, their glorious dream colony fell apart. Their leader was banished across the river to Illinois. The people were left despairing and despondent and filled with regret. “Why did we leave Germany? Did we really need to? Now that we’re here, should we go back? We were deceived and deluded. We messed up, big-time. Are we even the church?”

Well, in the face of that uncertainty, one of the young pastors stepped forward to encourage the little flock. His name was C. F. W. Walther, and he was saying: “Yes, we messed up, but we are still the church. We have God’s Word here among us. We have the Sacraments in our midst. God will bless us despite our failures. Jesus is here, and he will see us through.”

Friends, you and I mess up in our lives, don’t we? Our little congregation has had its share of struggles. But Jesus is here. His Word and Sacraments are here among us. Christ forgives us and restores us, both as church and in our personal lives. And this gives us the encouragement we need to carry on.

Which is what the Saxons in St. Louis and Perry County did: They carried on. Walther began publishing a newspaper called “Der Lutheraner,” “The Lutheran.” And over the next few years, they discovered that there were other like-minded Lutherans elsewhere in America. A pastor in Bavaria, Wilhelm Loehe, had heard that there was a pressing need for more pastors to serve the fast-growing number of German immigrants in America, so he began training them and sending them over. And that’s how the Saxons in Missouri and the German Lutherans in Michigan, Indiana, and Ohio found out about one other, and they discovered they shared a common bond in the confession of the faith. Thus they came together in 1847 and formed a new synod.

And in the 175 years since, the Missouri Synod has had its ups and downs. While God has blessed us richly, far more than we deserve, we have had some serious challenges. For example, after World War II, some of the professors at our St. Louis seminary, and the pastors they trained, were influenced more and more by the liberalism prevalent at the time. This led to the so-called “Walkout” at the sem in 1974 and the formation of a breakaway “seminary in exile” called “Seminex.” Our church body was engaged in what is known as “The Battle for the Bible.” Is the Bible true and trustworthy, or is it riddled with errors and thus we can pick and choose which parts we like and which we can discard? That was the issue. And it was a painful struggle, with a number of pastors, professors, and congregations leaving the synod. But by God’s grace, most of our synod stayed and remained faithful to the truth of God’s inspired and inerrant Word.

Why did this matter? Because if you lose the truthfulness and inspiration of Holy Scripture, before too long you will lose the central message of Scripture, which is the person and work of Christ. And if you lose Christ, you lose everything. You heard what Jesus said in John 14: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” Jesus is the way. Only through Jesus do we come to God. Jesus is the truth. He makes God known to us. Jesus is the life. Only Jesus can give us the life that overcomes death. Only Jesus, and we only get to know Jesus and believe in him through the testimony of Holy Scripture. Thank God that he preserved our synod in the Battle for the Bible!

Brothers and sisters, you and I cannot rest on our laurels, thinking, “Hey, we are the faithful ones! We believe the Bible!” That does not do us much good if we’re not continually in the Bible, drawing our strength and life from God’s Word. Through regular attendance at our church’s worship services and Bible classes, through our daily meditation on the Word of God–this is how the Lord keeps us steadfast in his Word. This is how we grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Another challenge our synod has survived: In 2001, after the 9/11 attacks, one of our clergymen–a district president, in fact–participated in a nationally televised interfaith prayer service at Yankee Stadium. This is something he should not have done. Because the nature of an interfaith prayer service is that it has clergymen representing all sorts of religions and denominations–Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Sikh, etc.–all of them leading prayers and delivering messages, as though all of those religions were equally valid. The effect of this is to reduce Jesus to just one option among many. But that can never be.

You heard what the apostle Peter said about Jesus in Acts 4: “There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.” No other name! Not “Allah,” not “Muhammad.” There are not many roads to God; there is just one. The road is narrow, but it is open to everyone. God wants all men to be saved. And the only name by which we must be saved is the blessed name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Why? What has he done to save us? Dear friends, this same Jesus, the very Son of God come in the flesh–this same Jesus took all the sins of the world and carried them on his back to the cross. There he died, taking the judgment of God upon himself, the judgment we sinners deserved. By his blood, he has redeemed people for God from every tribe, language, people, and nation. Jesus Christ “has freed us from our sins by his blood,” as you heard in the reading from Revelation. What a Savior we have! And by his death, he has conquered death and gained the victory for life. You heard our risen Lord say: “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades.”

Fear not, dear friends! Jesus is risen, and he is ruling all things for the good of his church. Our risen Lord stands in the midst of his church, and he will see us through. Our synod still faces its challenges. “Woke-ism” has crept into our colleges, and we need to deal with that. Numbers are down in our congregations, and we get discouraged. The temptation for our church body has always been to blend in with the culture around us, and that’s still the case today. Many of our congregations have taken to imitating the non-denominational churches: diluting the Christ-centered, cross-focused message in favor of more popular topics; and resorting to peppy, shallow songs and weak worship practices, in place of our rich heritage of solid liturgy and hymnody. But as for us, we will preach Christ crucified, and stick to what extols him best.

“Only Jesus: No Other Name.” This is what has kept our synod together over these 175 years, and thank God for it! This is the heart and soul of our church body and of our own congregation. And this is the saving message that will give healing and hope to your own life: forgiveness for your messed-up past, strength for your challenging present, and wonderful hope for your eternal future. God grant it. Amen.

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.