Category: Sermon Page

Good Friday
April 2, 2021

“The Light Shines in the Darkness” (John 1:1-5, 9-14)

Tonight we’re doing a traditional Good Friday evening service called “Tenebrae.” The Latin word, “tenebrae,” means “shadows” or “darkness.” This is the Service of the Shadows, the Service of Darkness–moving to complete darkness at the end of the service. This reminds us of the darkness that came over the land when Christ was hanging on the cross, the great darkness that occurred when the author of life was put to death. And then his lifeless body was placed in the tomb, and night fell, and all was darkness and shadows. The loud noise that will come at the end of this service, called the “strepitus”–that will remind us either of the earthquake at the time of Christ’s death or of the shutting of the tomb, when the heavy stone is rolled into place. In either case, the sound will signify the finality of death. Boom! Death wins.

This is the time of darkness and shadows. It seems that darkness has covered the earth. The one who had done only good, a righteous man–murdered. The one who had brought healing and had shown God’s mercy to so many–dead. The one in whom men had put their hope, now has been killed, and hope died with him. Jesus of Nazareth–crucified, dead, and buried. Now what?

The light has gone out of the world. We sit in darkness and shadows. Look around you, and all you will see are dying people. You will see suffering and hurting people, people losing hope. Shadows everywhere. The shadow called cancer, casting its gloom over lives once bright and cheerful. The shadow of old age, which creeps up on all of us and turns our hair white, our skin wrinkled, and our bones brittle. There are other shadows, too, shadows called virus and violence, divorce and depression, debt and death. Deep, dark shadows, everywhere we turn.

We sit in darkness and in shadows. Look inside you. There you will find no light of your own. The heart of darkness lies within us all. There are dark, hidden places inside, places of lovelessness and lust, of selfishness and sin–vile places, ugly places. We try to hide those dark, hidden recesses from others–and we may succeed to some extent. We can put on a good show. We may try to hide the darkness from ourselves. We may even try to hide it from God. But the fact is, that is not going to work. God sees the darkness in our heart. Don’t kid yourself.

Shadows and darkness, death and grief and sadness. People hurting other people, people hurting themselves. People turning their backs on God, wanting nothing to do with God. They have no desire to listen to God’s word. Men and women become their own gods, each one living for self, following the desires of their own sinful heart. The prevailing opinions in the pop culture–this is what people think they need to go along with. Such is our society in 2021. People have no use for God or for his church. Headline this week: “U.S. Church Membership Falls Below Majority for First Time.” We are living in a post-Christian culture. Darkness all around us.

But the darkness has been around a long time. It was there when Jesus came into this world, this land of shadows. He came bringing light with him, light from above. “In him was life, and the life was the light of men.” The eternal Son of God was coming into the world, the one who was in the beginning with God: the Word, the Logos, through whom the heavens and the earth were created, when God said, “Let there be light.” This is Jesus, the Word made flesh, the one who declares, “I am the light of the world.”

“The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him.” Here was the true light, but men preferred the darkness. They wanted to extinguish the light, because the light was exposing their evil deeds. That’s how we humans are. We want to hide from God, to keep his searchlight from shining in the dark recesses that we’re trying to keep hidden. That’s how sin works. And so they kill the author of life. They get him condemned falsely and nailed to a cross. Darkness falls over the land. The last candle, it seems, is going out. Extinguished. Snuffed out. Nothing but darkness. Is this the end of the story? It sure seems that way. Strepitus! Boom! Death wins.

Is this the end? No, it’s just the beginning. St. John tells us the truth: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” The loud noise, the strepitus, the sound of the stone being rolled into place and sealing the tomb–that sound will be matched on Easter morning when the stone is rolled away. The loud noise, the strepitus, the sound of the earthquake when Jesus dies–that will be matched on Easter morning at the earthquake when he rises. The darkness over the land on Friday will yield to the light dawning on Sunday. Look for the return of the light this Sunday morning. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

Sunday’s light comes out of Friday’s darkness. Ironically, the light of Christ is shining at its brightest in his dying. This is how the Son of Man is glorified, and God is glorified in him. It is when Christ is lifted up on the cross that he shines like a beacon in the night, giving light to everyone in the world. For there on the cross Jesus took all our dark deeds, our heart of darkness, everything that causes pain and sadness and death–he took it all into himself. He became sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. Our beautiful Savior shines fairest when he takes the darkness of death from us and replaces it with his light and life. Good Friday darkness leads to Easter resurrection light.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” Jesus said, “I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness.” And so now “God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” You who believe in Christ, you have the light.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?” Or what shall I fear? Shall I fear condemnation and judgment? No, Christ has won forgiveness for our sins and release from our guilt. Shall I fear the Grim Reaper, Death itself? No, Christ has conquered death by his death and resurrection. Shall I fear loneliness or loss, despair or decline? No, because Christ has placed us into his loving family, the church, where we care for one another. Shall I fear whatever is my thorn in the flesh? No, for God’s grace is sufficient for me, his strength is made perfect in weakness. Whom shall I fear? No one.

Whom shall I thank? The triune God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The Father of lights, who gives us every good gift from above. His Son, Jesus Christ, the light of the world, by whose death and resurrection we have light and life. And the Holy Spirit, who enlightens our minds, working faith in our hearts through the light of the gospel. Yes, dear friends, tonight we may sit in the shadows, but, thank God, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

Palm Sunday/ Sunday of the Passion
March 28, 2021

“Hosanna!” (John 12:11-19)

Today is Palm Sunday, and if there is a “word of the day” for this day, it’s “Hosanna!” How often do we see that word show up in our service today! We started the service by saying, “Hosanna to the Son of David.” Then we heard the Gospel reading, where the crowd cries out, “Hosanna!” As we processed in, we sang the refrain six times, “To whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring.” And we concluded the procession by saying, “Hosanna in the highest.” So before we even sat down, we heard or said or sang “hosanna,” nine times! And when we get done singing “Hosanna, Loud Hosanna” and “Ride On, Ride On in Majesty,” you can add four more “hosannas” to the list, for a total of thirteen. Truly the word of the day for Palm Sunday is “Hosanna!”

Now what is the meaning of this word, as we have used it and heard it being used? When the crowd at Jerusalem cried, “Hosanna!” and when we today sing, “Hosanna!” the word is being used as an acclamation, an ascription of praise. We are welcoming and praising Jesus as the great King. When the crowd shouted, “Hosanna!” they added, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, even the King of Israel!” And in our “hosanna hymns” today, we acclaim Jesus with lines like, “All glory, laud, and honor to you, Redeemer, King,” and “For Christ is our Redeemer, the Lord of heav’n our King.” To say “Hosanna!” then is something like saying, “Hail the conquering hero!” or “Hail to our coming King!” Clearly “Hosanna!” is being used as an acclamation, an ascription of praise.

But that’s not exactly what the word means, literally, if you translate it from the Hebrew. You see, there’s one “hosanna” that we missed, and we didn’t even notice it. It was back in Psalm 118, verse 25, where it says, “Save us, we pray, O Lord!” But you say, “That doesn’t use the word, ‘hosanna.’” Well, yes it does, if you say it in the original Hebrew. The word, “hosanna,” or, as it’s pronounced, “hoshi’ah na,” literally means, and is translated there as, “Save us, we pray!” “Save now, deliver now, we pray you, we beseech you!” That’s what “hoshi’ah na” actually means. Originally “Hosanna!” was a prayer to the Lord for salvation, a plea for deliverance.

The crowd at Jerusalem, then, uses that plea for deliverance as a shout of acclamation. The prayer for salvation becomes an ascription of praise. They are praising Jesus precisely because they believe he is coming to save them, to deliver them. They are acclaiming him as the coming Messiah, sent by God to be the new and great king from the line of David, to deliver Israel from all her foes.

Now they’re right and they’re wrong at the same time. They’re right, in that Jesus is indeed the great Messiah, the deliverer sent by God to save his people. Only it will be a salvation and deliverance much bigger than they realize. And it will happen, it will come about, in a way much stranger than they expect.

Their hosannas sell Jesus a little short. He is much more than just a new national king, who will restore Israel to her glory days–peace and prosperity, and get the Romans out of town. Jesus has bigger fish to fry than that.

But, hey, are we any better? We’d be happy with a religion that validates us as we are, affirms us, makes us comfortable, makes us feel good about ourselves. We would gladly welcome a king who could boost our economy, lower our gas prices, and put an end to the virus and the face masks. That kind of a king would get lots of hosannas and look real good in the opinion polls.

But Jesus comes with a bigger and better salvation than that. He’s going to deal with a bigger problem, the underlying problem that produces all the other problems–the ones we see and the ones we don’t see or realize or admit. And that big problem is our sin. Oh, not just the sins of those other people, the bad people, the immoral people, the people we look down upon. But our own sins, the sins of us good and respectable people, God’s people, whether we’re talking temple-going Israelites or church-going Lutherans. Our sins–that’s what we need a deliverer for, a Savior. “Save us, we pray, O Lord!” “Hoshi’ah na!”

And here’s where Jesus fits the bill. In fact, his very name means, “Savior.” Remember what the angel had said: “And you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” The name “Jesus” in Hebrew is “Yehoshu’a,” and it comes from the same root as our word of the day, “hoshi’ah na.” Jesus is “Yehoshu’a,” literally, “The Lord saves.” He is the answer to our prayer, “Save us, we pray, O Lord!”

That’s why Jesus rides into Jerusalem, to do just that. But how he does it–there is the great surprise. If the word of the day on Palm Sunday is “Hosanna!” the word of the day on Friday will be “Crucify!” Another day, another crowd, a quite different mood and a quite different reception. Instead of an enthusiastic “Hosanna to the Son of David,” there will be a mocking “Hail, King of the Jews!” Instead of palm branches, a crown of thorns and a wooden cross. No longer is the prayer and the praise, “Save us, we pray, O Lord!” “Hosanna!” On Friday it will be mockery and insult: “Save yourself, and come down from the cross!” “He saved others; he cannot save himself.”

No, he cannot save himself. Because that is how, ironically, he will save others. That is how he saves you and me. Jesus is our Savior, our Yehoshu’a, precisely by not saving himself from this death he most assuredly does not deserve. Jesus saves us from our sins by dying for them, in our place. This is the bigger and better salvation that he brings. We needed a Savior to deliver us from ourselves, to deliver us from the death and judgment we earned by our sins against God. God sends that deliverer, his only Son come from heaven, the only one who can do the job, the only one whose sinless life and holy blood are sufficient to cover the sins of the whole world.

That is the strange way, the surprising way, that our conquering hero has conquered death for us. By his all-atoning death, Christ Jesus has won for us forgiveness for all our sins, and, with that forgiveness, life that comes out of the tomb–next Sunday at Easter, when he comes out of his own tomb, and at the Last Day, when he comes again and empties out our tombs and raises us up to life everlasting. So don’t sell Jesus short! His salvation is bigger than we can possibly imagine! Our hosannas now are just not big enough! But we’ll have a whole eternity to sing them to their fullest!

That reminds me, there’s one set of hosannas we haven’t mentioned yet. And that’s the hosannas we will sing in the Sanctus in just a few minutes: “Hosanna! Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” We will sing those hosannas right as Jesus rides into this temple today, to give us his body and blood in the Sacrament. Again, he comes in humble, lowly fashion. But as of old he comes now having salvation to bestow. In the Blessed Sacrament, our blessed Lord gifts us with the sign and seal of salvation in his body and blood, given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.

“Hosanna!” “Save us, we pray, O Lord!” The Lord does exactly that, in this humble king riding into Jerusalem and coming to us now in this service. If “Hosanna!” is the word of the day for Palm Sunday, then so is “Jesus.” “Yehoshu’a” is God’s answer to our “Hoshi’ah na!” And so our prayer for salvation becomes also our song of praise: “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!”

Midweek Lenten Service
Wednesday, March 24, 2021

“‘Follow Me’: The Crown of Discipleship” (Mark 10:17-22)

Today we conclude our series on the “Follow Me” sayings of Jesus in Gospel of Mark. Last week we took up “The Cross of Discipleship.” Today our theme is “The Crown of Discipleship.” And that’s a good order to go, because there is no crown without the cross, and there is no cross we endure that will not be far outweighed by the crown we will receive. And both the cross and the crown come as we follow Jesus.

Last week we talked about the cross. Now we take up the crown. Well, maybe not just yet. We take up the crown as the theme of this message, but we haven’t actually taken it up in the sense of experiencing it. We still have a ways to go till we get there. But the crown, the crown of life, is laid up in heaven for those who follow Jesus.

The promise of that crown is given in our text today from Mark 10. There Jesus looks at a rich man and loves him, and says to him, “You lack one thing: go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” Jesus promises the man a crown, that is, “treasure in heaven.” But first he has to undo the man’s messed-up thinking about how we get to heaven. Let’s see how he does it.

“Go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven.” Does Jesus mean that if only we would sell our earthly possessions and give the money to the poor, then we will have heavenly treasures? There have been those who claimed that, that if only we renounce earthly wealth, we will merit a heavenly reward. That is a natural inclination, to think that if only we do something good and noble, then we deserve God’s approval and can earn our way into heaven. That’s our natural human instinct, and it comes in various forms: “I’m a good enough person.” “My friend or my loved one who died was good enough. Surely God must reward them with eternal life in heaven.”

That was the thinking of this rich man, that you can be good enough by your works to merit God’s approval. But by telling him to sell his possessions and give to the poor, Jesus was not encouraging him to do more of the same, only harder or better. No, the man already thought that way; he didn’t need Jesus to reinforce it. What he needed was for Jesus to pull the rug out from under him, to remove the thought that by doing something meritorious you earn God’s favor and eternal life. Jesus strips that idea right away from him.

Here’s how he does it. The rich man comes asking, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Already there’s something wrong in this man’s approach. He’s approaching Jesus as though Jesus was just another rabbi or religious teacher, which he’s not. Jesus is not some religious guru who happened to hit upon the winning formula, the teacher with the best advice.

No, Jesus won’t be put into that little box. So he tells the man: “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone. You know the commandments: ‘Do not murder, Do not commit adultery, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Do not defraud, Honor your father and mother.’” See, it’s not as though Jesus has some secret formula that everyone else missed, the one good thing you have to do that God hasn’t revealed elsewhere. There is no secret knowledge when it comes to doing the works of the law. God has made that plain. “God isn’t holding anything out on you as far as the law is concerned,” Jesus is saying, “as though I’ve got something hidden up my sleeve that no one else has.” No, if you want to gain eternal life by your works, you’ve got to keep the commandments.

Notice, the commandments Jesus mentions are the ones that have to do with how we treat our neighbor. You see, those are the ones we think we can actually keep: “Do not murder, Do not commit adultery, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Do not defraud, Honor your father and mother.” And the man responds without batting an eye: “Teacher, all these I have kept from my youth.” The man is disappointed. “I come to you asking for secret knowledge, Jesus, and all you can do is to recite the old commandments? I was looking for something new. I already am careful to keep the commandments. I wanted you to tell me something different, something above and beyond what I already do.”

This man takes it for granted that he already keeps the commandments. But there is his mistake. He thinks he does, but he doesn’t, really. Oh, I’m sure he did a pretty good job of keeping the outward form of the commandments. He avoided the gross violations. He didn’t commit adultery, in the sense of actually sleeping with another man’s wife. He didn’t commit murder, by actually taking another person’s life. On the outward level, I’m sure he practiced a morally upright life. He probably did better at it than a lot of us do.

What he missed, though, was the depth of these commandments, their power to accuse and convict us as sinners. For even if we manage to avoid the gross, outward violations, none of us can keep God’s law as it must be kept in order to please God. Our doing of the law is always imperfect; it always falls short. And this man was no exception. So Jesus must lead him to see it. Because, so far, he doesn’t. He does not see himself as a sinner in need of forgiveness, a sinner who cannot earn or merit salvation before God.

So Jesus puts his finger on where the law will most clearly show this fellow that he is a sinner. He reveals what the man’s god was, the idol that he worshiped. For this rich man, it was his wealth. That’s why Jesus says, “Sell all that you have and give to the poor.” But that was the very thing he was unwilling to do. That was the area of his life where the rich man refused to let go. Money, wealth, possessions–that’s where he placed his security and happiness. It had become his god. Earthly wealth was the treasure he really valued, and it got in the way of his receiving the heavenly treasure, which he would have found in Jesus. The rich man is unwilling to part with his idol. So he walks away from Jesus sad.

It isn’t by selling your possessions that you gain God’s favor and a treasure in heaven. But for this man, that’s what it took to point him to his sin and to show him his need–which Jesus would have then supplied. But this man was not willing to be a sinner before God. He had too much invested in his earthly wealth. People have no need, no desire, to follow Jesus when they’re content with what they’ve got. Whether it’s money or family or friends, popularity or the pursuit of pleasure–whatever your god is here on earth–if that’s what you desire most, you’re not going to be too interested in listening to what Jesus says.

Jesus points this man to his idolatry–earthly treasures–and thus to his inability to keep God’s law. Jesus wanted to show him his need and then point him to his Savior, which is Jesus himself. “And come, follow me.” Don’t miss that in what Jesus tells the man. “Follow me.” That’s how you will find the true treasure. The treasure in heaven, which God gives to sinners as a free gift. You don’t earn it. You can’t exchange your wealth for it in some sort of bargain. No, simply follow Jesus and you will find it in him.

The good things of this life cannot hold a candle to the greater gifts that God gives. The good things of this life are temporary, transient. To focus on them, to obsess over them, to value the things of this life more than following Jesus and receiving the gifts only he can give–that is idolatry, and it is to miss out on what is so much better.

So what does following Jesus gain us? What does Jesus give us as a gift? Treasure in heaven. As he says in the Sermon on the Mount, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven. . . Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness.” Jesus directs us to the higher treasures, the treasure in heaven.

Dear friends, let go of your false gods, and let the true God take hold of you! Follow Jesus! That’s how you will find the true treasure. In him. He it is who gave up the treasures of heaven to come down to earth to be our Savior. He who was rich became poor for your sake, so that in him you might become rich by his poverty. He humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Jesus, the Son of God come in the flesh. Jesus, the only man who ever kept God’s law fully, completely, perfectly. Jesus, who took the punishment for our failure to keep the commandments by dying in our place. Now the judgment against sin has been served. For us, by him. Now the treasure is given. To us, through him. The treasure in heaven. Now it is yours. All who follow Jesus will have eternal life. It is yours as a gift. Receive it from him. There is your true treasure, there is your crown of life.

“Follow me,” Jesus has been saying to us through this series. He calls us, unlikely candidates for discipleship though we are. And we follow him, through the cross, toward the crown. And as we follow Jesus, we find life, new life and eternal life, in him.

Fifth Sunday in Lent
March 21, 2021

“Great Servant” (Mark 10:35-45)

Are you familiar with what an oxymoron is? An oxymoron is when you put two words together that seem to contradict each other. The two ideas don’t belong together. The classic example is “jumbo shrimp.” Another would be “plastic silverware.” Or “civil war.” Well, today in our text we have two concepts put together that don’t seem to fit. It’s the idea of being “great,” placed side by side with the idea of being a “servant.” Those two thoughts would seem to cancel each other out. But not the way Jesus tells it. And not the way Jesus demonstrates it. For he is the ultimate “Great Servant.”

Let’s set the scene. Jesus is heading toward Jerusalem, where you might expect him, being the great Messiah, to take up the throne of David and restore the glory of Israel. But does Jesus look or sound like a great man about to take power? He downplays talk of glory among his disciples. He denounces the typical exercise of power wielded by the rulers of this world, and he forbids it among his followers. He stands the usual concept of greatness on its head, and he puts himself forward as the prime example. Jesus redefines greatness in a radically different way.

Jesus’ disciples were thinking of greatness in the customary way. Glory, positions of power, that sort of thing. If Jesus is going to take office as the Messiah, they at least want the best seats in his cabinet: “James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came up to him and said to him, ‘Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.’ And he said to them, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ And they said to him, ‘Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.’”

James and John must have thought they had an inside track on the prime spots. And not without some justification. They were, after all, among the very first disciples that Jesus had called. They had given up a profitable fishing business to come and follow Jesus. James and John, along with Peter, formed the inner circle of Jesus’ disciples. Jesus had taken those three along with him on some special occasions, like when Jesus raised the girl from the dead, or when Jesus went up on the Mount of Transfiguration.

So as far as the disciples go, Peter, James, and John were the “Big Three” out of the Twelve. Peter, of course, was usually the first one to speak up and take the lead, so maybe James and John here are trying to get first in line for the plum positions before Peter beats them to it. “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.”

But James and John are missing the point of why Jesus is heading to Jerusalem. Jesus tells them this: “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?” And they are quick to respond, without batting an eye, “We are able.”

Here Jesus tells them that they’re off track, and they still don’t get it. They don’t understand what Jesus means by the “cup” he will drink or the “baptism” with which he will be baptized. This will be no royal cup at a king’s banquet. Instead, it will be a cup of suffering, a cup of sorrow, from which Jesus will drink deeply. In the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus will pray, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” This cup of suffering is not the cup of glory you are thinking of, James and John.

Likewise, with the baptism Jesus will endure. It will be a baptism of blood and agony, suffered on the cross. It will be a baptism into death and burial, Jesus’ dead body being laid in a tomb. James and John, you don’t know what you are asking. Later, James and John, you will indeed drink this cup and experience this baptism. Suffering and sorrow will be your lot also, although you don’t realize it now.

And that is what did happen later. James was the first of the apostles to be martyred, as we read in the Book of Acts. John would live a long life and die a natural death, but he too will suffer much for the sake of the gospel. John was exiled to the Isle of Patmos in his old age, among other things.

So Jesus tells them: “The cup that I drink you will drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized, but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.” Positions of glory are not the point. The only ones we read about being placed at Jesus’ right and his left are the thieves dying alongside him when Jesus is crucified. Is that what you want, James and John?

But it’s not just James and John. When the other ten hear about what those two are asking, they get upset, because they also are thinking about glory and greatness. “And when the ten heard it,” our text says, “they began to be indignant at James and John.”

It’s the two, it’s the ten, it’s all of us. We also, like the disciples, are seduced by the idea of greatness and glory. What’s in it for me? Are my desires being met? Am I getting the applause and recognition I deserve? “Pay attention to me!” each one of us thinks. We must confess that we are no better than those self-serving, glory-seeking disciples.

But Jesus uses this thirst for glory as a teachable moment and a call to repentance. He tells his disciples: “You know that those who are considered rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. But it shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all.”

This is a radically different definition of greatness. It’s not about amassing power and controlling people. It’s not about getting your way and getting what you want. Rather, greatness is about service. It’s about what you can do for others. How can I be a blessing to those whom God has entrusted to my care? How can I be God’s channel of blessing to the people I meet and deal with, even if it means laying down my will and my desires? That is true greatness in God’s kingdom.

And Jesus sets himself forward as the prime example. Jesus is the teacher for his disciples in both word and deed. Referring to himself, he says, “For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Think of how Jesus served. Tireless days and nights, helping all he met and all who came to him. Healing the sick, feeding the multitudes, forgiving sins, enduring opposition, teaching and bearing with slow-to-get-it disciples. “The Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve.” If ever there was an example of great servanthood, it is Jesus.

Jesus is our example, yes. But he is far more than mere example. Jesus serves by doing something only he can do. And this is why the Son of Man is going to Jerusalem, namely, “to give his life as a ransom for many.” “To give his life as a ransom”: This is redemption, Jesus setting us free at the price of his blood. Jesus sets us free from our bondage to sin, Satan, and death, and he does it in the only way possible: He gives his life by dying on the cross for our sins, for our redemption. Only the Son of God could pay a price that great, that it would cover the sins of the whole world. This is true greatness. “Greater love hath no man than this,” that Christ Jesus our Lord laid down his life for us sinners.

Dear friends, Jesus Christ gave his life as a ransom for you. He has redeemed you, a lost and condemned sinner, not with gold or silver, but with his holy precious blood and with his innocent suffering and death. Now you are forgiven, now you are free. You have a place in his eternal kingdom. Christ’s cup of suffering is your cup of salvation. Christ’s baptism into death is your baptism into life everlasting.

But for now, in this life, the life of Christ’s disciples is not one of glory and greatness, as the world defines those terms. Rather, our life lies in the more difficult path of servanthood and sacrifice. Jesus will travel that road with you, supporting you and strengthening you along the way. To this, Christ has called you. For this, Christ has freed you.

“Great servant”: Those two words together may sound like a paradox. But with Jesus, they work. Jesus is the ultimate great servant, the Suffering Servant, who gave his life as a ransom for you. He has redeemed you, set you free from sin and death. And now we follow his lead, in living lives of servanthood toward one another.