Category: Sermon Page

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!”

Fourth Sunday in Lent
March 27, 2022

“A Prodigal Son, a Prodigal Father, and a Pharisaical Brother” (Luke 15:1-3, 11-32)

In our text today from Luke 15, the scribes and Pharisees are tut-tutting Jesus because he was hanging around with tax collectors and other obvious sinners. And he was not only welcoming them, Jesus was even having meals with them, table fellowship. “This man receives sinners and eats with them,” the scribes and Pharisees grumble–not even using Jesus’ name, just calling him “this man,” with a sneer in their voice.

Yeah, this was too much for these pious and respectable religious leaders. They figured a true servant of God would not associate with those lousy lowdown sinners. So Jesus figures he needs to teach the scribes and Pharisees a lesson or two about how God operates, what God’s plan is. And so he tells them a story. It’s the parable of “A Prodigal Son, a Prodigal Father, and a Pharisaical Brother.”

The story begins: “There was a man who had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of property that is coming to me.’ And he divided his property between them.” Look at how disrespectful this son is! He wants his share of the inheritance, and he wants it now! He can’t wait until the appropriate time, which would be after his father’s death, but that could be years from now. No, he wants it now! It’s like he’s saying, “I wish you were dead, Dad!” But amazingly, the father gives it to him.

And what does the young man do with his share of the inheritance? “Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took a journey into a far country, and there he squandered his property in reckless living.” He leaves home, disgracing his father in front of the town. He goes off to a far country. He’s far from home, both in terms of distance and his mindset. The young man squanders all his wealth in reckless living. That’s why he’s called the “prodigal” son. “Prodigal” means “wasteful,” lavish,” “extravagant.”

“And when he had spent everything, a severe famine arose in that country, and he began to be in need.” This young man has been very unwise. Now that he’s wasted all his resources, this is when he really needs them. “So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs.” From living high on the hog, now he is living down among the hogs! He’s reduced to feeding pigs, which would be especially humiliating for a Jew. “And he was longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate, and no one gave him anything.” This boy is hitting rock bottom. He’s bottoming out and beginning to recognize his folly in leaving home.

“But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’ The young man comes to his senses. And he’s come up with a plan. He will go back home and confess to his father that he has sinned against heaven and against him, and that he’s no longer worthy to be called his son. So far, so good. He’s right in what he says. But that next part, “Treat me as one of your hired servants”: Does he really think a work-it-off scheme can atone for how terribly he has done wrong?

How about you? Do you recognize how foolishly you have lived over the years, in the dumb ways you’ve acted in your life? The many ways you’ve gone astray from the right way to live before God and man? Do you see how you have wasted the gifts that your heavenly Father has given you? If so, come on home!

That’s what the prodigal son does. “And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.” This is truly an amazing father! And here, as Jesus does in many of his parables, he stretches reality a bit to make a point. For what human father would be standing at his door every day, for months on end, looking out and waiting for his son to return? But that’s what God does. And what self-respecting ancient Middle-Eastern father would run out to greet a son who had humiliated him so? You just don’t do that! But this father does. And you can feel the emotion in the father’s heart as he embraces his son, falls on his neck, and kisses him! What a picture of God’s grace and mercy and compassion toward us prodigal sinners!

Now the returning son starts in with his prepared speech: “And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’” But now watch what happens! Before the son gets to the “let me work it off as a hired servant” part of his speech, the father cuts him off!

“But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.” You see, the father doesn’t want another servant. He wants his son back! No work-it-off scheme necessary! And now that he’s got his son back, it’s time to celebrate! And here’s why I call this father the “prodigal” father: because he’s so extravagant, so lavish, in the welcome-home celebration he calls for. A robe and a ring, to restore the young man to full sonship. And a Grade-A fattened calf for the celebratory meal! Dad is pulling out all the stops to welcome his lost son home!

Friends, this is how our heavenly Father is toward us. He’s lavish, extravagant–“prodigal,” if you will–in how warmly he welcomes us. In your baptism, God has clothed you with the robe of Christ’s perfect righteousness. He forgives your sins and restores you and reassures you that you are his own dear child. He holds a celebratory meal for you here in the Lord’s Supper, in which you receive a foretaste of the feast to come in heaven. And in this meal, we feast on, not a fattened calf, but the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. God loved us so much that he sent his only Son–the one faithful Son, Jesus Christ–to live and die for us, to be the sacrifice to atone for all of our wasteful, runaway, rebellious misdeeds. What a loving, lavish, extravagant God we have!

So the party is underway. The celebration has begun. But what of the father’s other son, the older one? “Now his older son was in the field, and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants and asked what these things meant. And he said to him, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound.’ But he was angry and refused to go in.”

The prodigal son was lost when he ran off far from home. But this other son, the older one–he was lost all the while he stayed at home! He just doesn’t get it! He should be rejoicing that his brother is back. He should be joining his father in the big celebration. But he isn’t. He’s standing outside. He’s being resentful toward his brother. And he’s being rude toward his father by refusing to come in.

So what does the father do? He comes out to this jerk of a son. “His father came out and entreated him, but he answered his father, ‘Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!’”

Mr. Self-Righteous, this older son is. And rude and disrespectful, too. He doesn’t even address his father as “Father.” He just jumps to an angry “Look!” “Look, I’ve been slaving away for you all these years.” See, he just doesn’t get it. He’s thinking he’s been working as a slave, not a son. “And what have I got out of this deal? Not much. But here this son of yours. . . .” Notice, he doesn’t even acknowledge his brother as his brother. He’s just “this son of yours.”

But the father is kind and patient even to this disrespectful older son: “And he said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.’” What an amazing father! To this rude son who won’t even call him “Father,” he calls him “son.” And to this older brother who dismisses his younger brother as “this son of yours,” the father reminds him that he’s “this your brother.”

And now do you see why I call this parable the story of “A Prodigal Son, a Prodigal Father, and a Pharisaical Brother”? Because the older brother in the story is acting like the Pharisees, who are standing right there in front of Jesus. Jesus is welcoming repentant sinners back home, but the Pharisees are grumbling like the older brother. They should be rejoicing and joining the party, but instead they’re standing outside, refusing to come in.

Friends, it’s Jesus who is doing the amazing thing here. Like the prodigal, extravagant father in the story, Jesus is welcoming lost sinners back home. “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” The Pharisees meant it as a harsh criticism. You and I–we know it to be our life and our greatest joy: This man, Jesus, receives sinners and eats with them! That’s us! Welcome home, brothers and sisters!

Third Sunday in Lent
March 20, 2022

“The Blood of the Galileans” (Luke 13:1-9)

Whenever there’s a terrible tragedy in the news–a bombing that kills women and children in Ukraine, the police officer shot and killed in Bonne Terre on Thursday, a tornado that levels a town–people search for answers. They’re perplexed. They don’t understand. “Why?” they ask. “Why did this awful thing happen?” And they look for someone to blame. They blame the perpetrator, if it’s a crime. Sometimes they blame the victim, thinking they must have had it coming to them. Sometimes they blame God, who let this evil thing happen. Those are the standard reactions people have these days. But this is nothing new. Back in Jesus’ day, people speculated about why terrible tragedies occur. We see that in today’s text on “The Blood of the Galileans.”

In our text, some people are telling Jesus about a terrible tragedy that was in the news. It involved people from Galilee, which is where Jesus was from, so they figure this would be of interest to him–especially since those Galileans were killed in Jerusalem, and now Jesus is traveling that way. Plus, Jesus, being a man of religious insight and known for speaking his mind–well, people would want to get his take on the story.

And it was an intriguing story, with lots of theological and political overtones. Our text begins: “There were some present at that very time who told [Jesus] about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.” Now that’s pretty awful! We don’t have any other information on this incident, but what happened was this: Some Galileans had traveled to Jerusalem for the holy days. And they went to the temple.

The nation at that time was ruled by the Romans, and in Judea, the Romans had put in as governor a man by the name of Pontius Pilate. Pilate’s job was to keep order there, especially in Jerusalem, the most important city of the Jews, whose population would increase dramatically during the holy days. Pilate would be on the lookout for anyone who might stir up trouble. And he would not be averse to using force to put down any suspected insurrection. The Romans did not mess around.

Well, for some reason Pilate had reason to suspect those Galilean pilgrims worshiping at the temple. So he sent in his troops, right into the temple courtyard, where those Jews were offering up their sacrifices. Pilate’s men struck them down and killed them. The blood of those slain pilgrims was mixed in with the blood of their animal sacrifices.

This was an extremely horrific act in the eyes of the Jews. For the pagan Romans to desecrate the sacred temple grounds, to go into an area where Gentiles were not allowed, to defile the holy sacrifices, to slaughter Jews doing their religious duty–this was just outrageous! A brutal and horrible death!

So now the “why” questions arise. Why did this evil deed happen? But instead of just directing their wrath against the Romans, the people talking to Jesus thought those Galileans themselves must have had it coming to them. Their brutal death was some sort of divine karma for sins they must have committed.

Jesus addresses what they were thinking. He says: “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered in this way? No, I tell you.” Then Jesus takes it a step further. He brings up another news story: “Or those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them: do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others who lived in Jerusalem? No, I tell you.”

The people talking to Jesus saw those deaths, and they concluded it was a form of divine justice. God let those people be struck down because of some sin they had committed. But to automatically draw that conclusion, Jesus says, twice, “No, I tell you.”

What about those Galileans struck down by Pilate? What about those Jerusalemites buried under the tower of Siloam? What about people in our day who die sudden, tragic deaths? We too ask our questions, trying to make sense of it all. We too like to find someone to blame. For some of these stories, there is someone pretty obvious to blame, the perpetrator.

But the attributing of blame is a tricky business. In some cases, you can almost draw a line between certain behavior and a terrible result. A guy builds a meth lab, it blows up, the guy is killed–pretty clear connection. But in other cases, there may not be any immediate consequences to bad behavior. A rich pornographer may live a long healthy life and face no consequences. But then, a sudden illness can strike down a young wife and mother. The “karma” makes no sense. The “fault lines” are not so clear. Divine payback is hard to read. Why do the righteous suffer and the wicked prosper?

So the next natural question is this: Why did God allow this to happen? That’s the favorite question of our age. People want to blame God. They want to put God on trial. “I can’t believe in a God who would allow this to happen!” And then fill in the blank with whatever the latest terrible thing in the news is. A natural disaster, a child’s death–as though any of these things were something new or unusual–you always hear the same complaint, “I can’t believe in a God who would let this happen!” As though any death were not a bad thing! What about a God who allows billions of deaths to happen, over thousands of years? Pretty much everybody and everything on earth is going to die. Where is God in any of this?

Whether we blame God, blame the victim, or blame the perpetrator–we like to assign blame and cluck our tongues in every direction but one. And that is, by looking at ourselves. We don’t like to do that. So that’s where Jesus directs our attention when we’re tempted to ask, “What about those Galileans?” or “What about the tower of Siloam?” Jesus answers us and says: “What about you? Are you any better they were?”

And so, Jesus says, twice, “No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.” In other words, take these examples of sudden, violent death as a warning. If death is based on people being sinners, then you yourselves should take heed. You too are sinners. If it’s a matter of divine justice, then you ought to be concerned about how you will fare in God’s courtroom. You see, it’s not God who is on trial, it’s you! How do you stack up, when measured against God’s law? You see, in the comparison game, it’s not you versus other people; it’s you versus God’s law! And that’s a game you cannot win. “No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.”

Instead of making ourselves feel better by looking down our noses at the bad people; instead of trying to keep God’s judgment at arm’s length, out there–instead, Jesus does us the favor of calling us to repent. That’s a good thing. Jesus wants each one of us to see our own sinfulness and to turn from it, before it’s too late.

“Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.” But God does not want us to perish. That’s why he calls us to repent! “Turn from your sins and live!” God calls to us today. And it won’t be because you were so sorry and you’re trying so hard to do better. That won’t cut it. No, to repent means to turn from looking inside yourself for an answer and instead looking to God for the answer he gives you. And that answer is Jesus Christ himself. He is where you turn when you repent. You turn from self to Christ.

Jesus of Nazareth–he is the answer to our questions. This Galilean–Jesus, who is traveling from Galilee to Jerusalem for the holy days, for the Passover–Jesus is going right into Pilate’s lair in Jerusalem. And there Jesus of Nazareth will be the Galilean whose blood Pilate will mingle with his sacrifice. Indeed, Jesus’ blood will be the sacrifice! The perfect sacrifice for all our sins–this is what Jesus will offer. His holy blood will cleanse us from all our sins. Jesus, the only one with no sins of his own for which he should die–Jesus will take all our sins and pay the final sacrifice for them.

Jesus of Nazareth was crucified under Pontius Pilate. Do you think that this Galilean was a worse sinner than all of us, because he suffered in this way? Well, in a strange sense, he was! Jesus became the worst sinner in the world, the worst one who ever lived, when he bore the world’s sin on the cross in our place. “For our sake God made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” The divine judgment fell on Christ, so that it would not fall on us.

Friends, the good news today is that there is no more divine judgment to come crashing down on you! Your sins are forgiven! If bad things happen to you–and they will, you will die someday–it won’t be because God is condemning you and sending you to hell. No, because of Christ’s all-availing sacrifice, you and I will rise from under the rubble of death; we will rise to live with Christ forever. The blood of this one Galilean has atoned for your sin and gained for you life everlasting!