Maundy Thursday
To Eat and To Drink April 9, 2020 Matthew 26:17-29 Grace, mercy, and peace unto you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Today we celebrate Maundy Thursday in a manner which we are not accustomed to. On this day every year we gather to celebrate and remember Jesus’ death as we participate with the Lord’s Supper. But at this time tradition is suspended. While we are rightly coming together virtually to hear the Scriptures taught, we are not experiencing the fullness of this celebration. And it seems as though, after the governors remarks yesterday, that it very well could be another month of fasting from our most blessed tradition of all, the Lord’s Supper. Our Gospel reading begins with Jesus and His disciples going to a place to practice the greatest tradition that was handed down to them for centuries. They went into Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. Now, the Passover was the great salvific even of the entire Old Testament. Nothing in the Old Testament was as great as God bringing the people of Israel out of slavery in Egypt. God did so in a marvelous way. God sent 10 plagues upon Egypt, and protected His people from them. The Israelites were not affected by any of the plagues and Pharaoh sent Israel away. Passover has its roots in the tenth and final plague before they left Egypt. The tenth plague was the killing of the first born child. The Israelites were commanded by God’s servant Moses to slaughter a lamb that was a year old without blemish. They were to take the lambs blood and put it on their door posts. And they would then eat the lamb that was slaughtered in haste with their sandals on and staff in hand so that they were ready to leave at a moments notice. Then as the angel of death came, he would see the blood on the door post of the Israelites and Passover their house. But for the Egyptians he would kill the first born child of that household. And the next morning, all the Egyptians mourned death, but the Israelites were safe. After this Pharaoh sent the Israelites away, but quickly changed his mind and hunted down the Israelites. Pharaoh was defeated through one last miraculous act. The miraculous act of God parting the Red Sea and Pharaoh’s army in pursuit drowned in the sea. The sea was the boarder of Egypt, and now passing on the other side, the people of Israel were freed and were now fully under God’s protection, rule, and reign. They were now His people, and no one could take them from the palm of His hand. It is this salvific event that Jesus and His disciples go to celebrate. The Passover feast was at hand, but another, even a greater salvation was instituted and traditioned that night. It would be traditioned through betrayal and instituted by the death of the very Son of God. THE LORD’S SUPPER IS THE GREATEST TRADITION OF THE CHURCH. “WHEN IT WAS EVENING, HE RECLINED AT TABLE WITH THE TWELVE. AND AS THEY WERE EATING, HE SAID, “TRULY, I SAY TO YOU, ONE OF YOU WILL BETRAY ME.” Well ain’t that a conversation killer. Thank you Jesus for killing the mood! But Jesus’ words here are quite profound. Jesus is saying that one of the 12 disciples would hand him over. Or to put it more bluntly, one of the 12 disciples will tradition Jesus. Betray, handed over, and tradition is the same word here in Greek – paradidomi (παραδιδωμι – pronounced para-did-o-me). Here it most simply means betray, but betraying with a particular outcome and purpose. That purpose is to hand Jesus over to death and for the supper which Christ is about to institute to be efficacious for the Christian who partakes in it. But as we discussed in our midweek Lenten series, betrayal is transgression. It is a broken promise. Betrayal is a knife stab in the back from someone you trusted and had an agreement with. So all the disciples became “VERY SORROWFUL AND BEGAN TO SAY TO HIM ONE AFTER ANOTHER, “IS IT I, LORD?” HE ANSWERED, HE WHO HAS DIPPED HIS HAND IN THE DISH WITH ME WILL BETRAY ME. THE SON OF MAN GOES AS IT IS WRITTEN OF HIM, BUT WOE TO THAT MAN BY WHOM THE SON OF MAN IS BETRAYED!” One would think that this is an obvious sign and that everyone in the room would know exactly who it was that was going to betray Jesus. However, it seems as though Matthew is making the point that they all dipped their hands into the bowl with Jesus. Thus, they are all going to betray Him. Not a single one of them would be guiltless. This becomes more evident later that night when Peter promises never to deny Jesus, and all the other disciples promised the same. But by the end of the night, they would have all fled in fear and hide for their lives. Nevertheless, Judas would be the one to hand Jesus over to the chief priests of the Sandhedrin. And they will sentence Jesus to death and hand Him over to Pilot, who would hand him over to the guard to be crucified. But on this night, “AS THEY WERE EATING, JESUS TOOK BREAD, AND AFTER BLESSING IT BROKE IT AND GAVE IT TO THE DISCIPLES, AND SAID, “TAKE, EAT; THIS IS MY BODY.” AND HE TOOK A CUP, AND WHEN HE HAD GIVEN THANKS HE GAVE IT TO THEM, SAYING, “DRINK OF IT, ALL OF YOU, FOR THIS IS MY BLOOD OF THE COVENANT, WHICH IS POURED OUT FOR MANY FOR THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS. I TELL YOU I WILL NOT DRINK AGAIN OF THIS FRUIT OF THE VINE UNTIL THAT DAY WHEN I DRINK IT NEW ITH YOU IN MY FATHER’S KINGDOM.” Jesus instructs His disciples on a new tradition that serves particular purposes. He instructs them in His death which will establish a new covenant. This covenant is not established by the blood of bulls or lambs. Rather it is a covenant that is established by His own death. It is His own body and His own blood that establish this covenant. He entered into a covenant with many, and that many are made one at the Supper of our Lord. Therefore, when we come for this blessed tradition, for this blessed Sacrament, we who are many are united as one. This is a Supper that cannot be taken all by one’s self. Rather it must be shared with another who also believes the same. It is for the forgiveness of sins because the very body and blood that we receive is the very body and blood that won that forgiveness. It is that very body and blood that brings those who have betrayed Him by their sin that forgives and restores. The very body and blood of Christ is what gives the Christian community to stand firm in the midst of many and various trials. It is the very body and blood of Christ that has been traditioned down to us today, and there is no other tradition that is as important. It is this tradition of the very body and blood of Christ that we currently fast from today. When we last met on March 22nd, we did not want to believe that we would be fasting from this blessed meal, especially in Holy Week. For many in this Christian community and in Christian communities around the world, this meal is a way of life because in no other place does Jesus promise to be there in flesh and blood. If there is ever an instance of doubt of Christ’s presence and forgiveness in life those doubts are relieved when we partake of this meal. But it seems as though this fast will still last a little while longer yet. At the same time, even though we cannot gather in large groups, if you desire this blessed meal, your pastors stand ready with Christ to give it to you. During this quarantine, we have given up many traditions this week, but there is one tradition that will never be given up, and that is the Lord’s Supper. And in it, you will find strength to preserve you through this time of pandemic, even until eternal life. And on the day of which we receive the crown and reward of eternal life, we will drink it new with Jesus sitting at the head of the table. God’s blessings during this unique Maundy Thursday. The peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
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To be crucified and to die
Good Friday, 2020 Isaiah 52:12–53:12 Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Dear friends in Christ, Today we cut out crosses made of black to remember the crucifixion of our Lord. We ask good questions as families, like “Why did Jesus have to die for our sins?” “Why do we call today Good Friday?” Today, we pound nails into the cross, symbolizing that “it was our sin—not someone else’s but ours—that held him there until it was accomplished.” Tonight we look on as the darkness gathers, as the candles are snuffed out, as we sing songs of grief, as we hear Jesus’s last words from the cross, as we hear his loud cry. Tonight, I would invite you believe with all of your heart that this is a Good Friday. Tonight I would invite you to know with not just your head but with your whole being that darkness cannot prevail. Tonight, I would invite you see not just with the eyes on your head but with the eyes of faith that the death of Jesus is victory for us, that the violence of his crucifixion is peace for us, that the griefs he bears mean joy for us. Tonight, we find that the purpose of Jesus Christ, and for the Christian, the purpose of all the Holy Scriptures, the purpose of all of creation, was so that Jesus the Christ would come to be crucified and to die. Because not too far away from here is a woman who feels like she’s being crucified for her wrong choices. She’s diagnosed with a disease entirely of her own making, she’s torn between wanting to be done and wanting this never to have happened. She doesn’t know what to do, and today feels like anything but a Good Friday. And not too far away from her is a family that is just barely making it. The money is drying up, the To-Do lists are growing, and they are getting desperate. They didn’t know how they would get through the summer ordinarily, and this, this feels like a kick when they were already down. Today feels like anything but a Good Friday. And not too far away from them is a man who was just about to retire. He was days away from putting in for Social Security. He had worked hard and saved like they taught him, but right now, he went from the prime of his life to jobless, losing half his retirement, without a safety net, without a future, everything that he worked for down the drain. Today feels like anything but a Good Friday. What do we say to folks as we all hurt together? What language do we use? How can we help when all that is so difficult is already out of our control? What makes today so Good? Two thoughts for tonight, as we consider the purposes of God on this Good and dark day. Purpose number one was that Jesus came to be crucified. Purpose number two is that Jesus came to die. Purpose number one. Jesus came to be crucified. The catechism says it like this. In Jesus’s crucifixion, he took my guilt and punishment upon himself. He freed me from the slavery to sin. Jesus suffered the capital punishment of his day. He received the fullest extent of the law for the very worst of crimes. He was counted, as Isaiah prophesied, among the sinners. Purpose number one, in other words, is that Jesus took upon himself the fullest punishment of the law. The fullest punishment, as opposed to a less-than-full punishment. I remember the worst grade that I ever got in grade school. It was a C- in 5th grade Spanish class. I remember my parents asking me what was going on, and the truth was that I didn’t like to memorize vocab. But I knew if I said that, I would receive a full punishment. So, I said that I just wasn’t good at Spanish, so that I would get a less-than-full punishment. That’s our temptation. Either to think that Jesus doesn’t know everything that we’ve done, he doesn’t know and couldn’t possibly pay for it, OR to think that we know more than Jesus; we can see a way that he didn’t, we understand the limits of forgiveness and salvation more than he does. But Isaiah says it like this: He bears the load of all our iniquities. He takes all of our stripes, and his wounds heal us. The great Gospel of Good Friday is that the punishment for the sin of the whole world is meted out on Jesus. There is no punishment left. There is no debt left unpaid; there is no crime left unjustified. All of God’s wrath, all of our sin, every bit of human suffering, Jesus has felt, he hs borne, he has paid for, not with gold or silver, but with his holy and precious blood, with his innocent sufferings and death. Purpose number one is that to be crucified means that Jesus took upon himself the fullest punishment of the law. Purpose number two. Jesus came to die. The catechism says it like this. Through his suffering, death and resurrection, Christ has triumphed over death. Since he now gives me eternal life I need not fear death. For the ancient Roman Empire, like every other ancient empire, death was not the point of capital punishment; it was a by-product. The crucifixion of Jesus was three hours, from noon until 3pm. The others were still alive close to sundown, and so their legs were broken to quicken their death. The standard practice was to try and elongate life, because dead people couldn’t suffer and the point of the punishment was to make them suffer for as long as possible. Their death ends the punishment. Death was not the point; in those days, it was a by-product. Because death was the end. I remember being an 8th grader and reading one of my very favorite book series, called the Chronicles of Prydain, by Lloyd Alexander. It was five books long, and I read all five books within a few weeks (actually I read the fourth book about once a week for the next year), and I remember finishing the final book, The High King, for the first time, and just sitting on our downstairs couch and just wishing that it hadn’t come to an end. I could imagine another book. I could imagine what the characters would do next, but in the end the books had come to an end. For everyone in our text, for everyone who was there that day, death was the end. There was no more. There was no revolution. There was no kingdom. There was no Messiah. Their last three years, and most likely their lives, were at an end. But this is Good Friday because with eyes of faith we see this truth: death which was a wall, death which was an end, in Jesus Christ death becomes a doorway. Death that was the final stop has now become the gateway to new life. The darkest day in human history has given way to sunlight. The saddest day in human history has given way to joy that doesn’t have an end. The kingdom of heaven is like a large church in a small town scattered into living rooms and kitchen tables, together and yet not together at the same time. The familiar truths of Good Friday wash over them in an unfamiliar way, and they find themselves amazed at how Good that Friday was. The kingdom of heaven is like the body of Christ, scattered far and wide. They are tempted toward doubt, until they look at the savior hung upon a cross. They are tempted toward despair, until they look at the hope of the empty tomb. They are tempted toward weakness, until they look and see their savior, dying for their sins, and they find themselves amazed at how Good that Friday was. The kingdom of heaven is like a young man who’s not as young as he used to be. These days are strange for him, as they are for so many. On the darkest days, the weight of it all threatens to overwhelm him. And yet for him, on the cross, the darkest day in human history has given way to sunlight. On the cross, the saddest day has given way to joy eternal, and once again, he finds himself amazed at how Good that Friday was. Amen and Amen. To be crucified and to die
Good Friday, 2020 Isaiah 52:12–53:12 Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Dear friends in Christ, Today we cut out crosses made of black to remember the crucifixion of our Lord. We ask good questions as families, like “Why did Jesus have to die for our sins?” “Why do we call today Good Friday?” Today, we pound nails into the cross, symbolizing that “it was our sin—not someone else’s but ours—that held him there until it was accomplished.” Tonight we look on as the darkness gathers, as the candles are snuffed out, as we sing songs of grief, as we hear Jesus’s last words from the cross, as we hear his loud cry. Tonight, I would invite you believe with all of your heart that this is a Good Friday. Tonight I would invite you to know with not just your head but with your whole being that darkness cannot prevail. Tonight, I would invite you see not just with the eyes on your head but with the eyes of faith that the death of Jesus is victory for us, that the violence of his crucifixion is peace for us, that the griefs he bears mean joy for us. Tonight, we find that the purpose of Jesus Christ, and for the Christian, the purpose of all the Holy Scriptures, the purpose of all of creation, was so that Jesus the Christ would come to be crucified and to die. Because not too far away from here is a woman who feels like she’s being crucified for her wrong choices. She’s diagnosed with a disease entirely of her own making, she’s torn between wanting to be done and wanting this never to have happened. She doesn’t know what to do, and today feels like anything but a Good Friday. And not too far away from her is a family that is just barely making it. The money is drying up, the To-Do lists are growing, and they are getting desperate. They didn’t know how they would get through the summer ordinarily, and this, this feels like a kick when they were already down. Today feels like anything but a Good Friday. And not too far away from them is a man who was just about to retire. He was days away from putting in for Social Security. He had worked hard and saved like they taught him, but right now, he went from the prime of his life to jobless, losing half his retirement, without a safety net, without a future, everything that he worked for down the drain. Today feels like anything but a Good Friday. What do we say to folks as we all hurt together? What language do we use? How can we help when all that is so difficult is already out of our control? What makes today so Good? Two thoughts for tonight, as we consider the purposes of God on this Good and dark day. Purpose number one was that Jesus came to be crucified. Purpose number two is that Jesus came to die. Purpose number one. Jesus came to be crucified. The catechism says it like this. In Jesus’s crucifixion, he took my guilt and punishment upon himself. He freed me from the slavery to sin. Jesus suffered the capital punishment of his day. He received the fullest extent of the law for the very worst of crimes. He was counted, as Isaiah prophesied, among the sinners. Purpose number one, in other words, is that Jesus took upon himself the fullest punishment of the law. The fullest punishment, as opposed to a less-than-full punishment. I remember the worst grade that I ever got in grade school. It was a C- in 5th grade Spanish class. I remember my parents asking me what was going on, and the truth was that I didn’t like to memorize vocab. But I knew if I said that, I would receive a full punishment. So, I said that I just wasn’t good at Spanish, so that I would get a less-than-full punishment. That’s our temptation. Either to think that Jesus doesn’t know everything that we’ve done, he doesn’t know and couldn’t possibly pay for it, OR to think that we know more than Jesus; we can see a way that he didn’t, we understand the limits of forgiveness and salvation more than he does. But Isaiah says it like this: He bears the load of all our iniquities. He takes all of our stripes, and his wounds heal us. The great Gospel of Good Friday is that the punishment for the sin of the whole world is meted out on Jesus. There is no punishment left. There is no debt left unpaid; there is no crime left unjustified. All of God’s wrath, all of our sin, every bit of human suffering, Jesus has felt, he has borne, he has paid for, not with gold or silver, but with his holy and precious blood, with his innocent sufferings and death. Purpose number one is that to be crucified means that Jesus took upon himself the fullest punishment of the law. Purpose number two. Jesus came to die. The catechism says it like this. Through his suffering, death and resurrection, Christ has triumphed over death. Since he now gives me eternal life I need not fear death. For the ancient Roman Empire, like every other ancient empire, death was not the point of capital punishment; it was a by-product. The crucifixion of Jesus was three hours, from noon until 3pm. The others were still alive close to sundown, and so their legs were broken to quicken their death. The standard practice was to try and elongate life, because dead people couldn’t suffer and the point of the punishment was to make them suffer for as long as possible. Their death ends the punishment. Death was not the point; in those days, it was a by-product. Because death was the end. I remember being an 8th grader and reading one of my very favorite book series, called the Chronicles of Prydain, by Lloyd Alexander. It was five books long, and I read all five books within a few weeks (actually I read the fourth book about once a week for the next year), and I remember finishing the final book, The High King, for the first time, and just sitting on our downstairs couch and just wishing that it hadn’t come to an end. I could imagine another book. I could imagine what the characters would do next, but in the end the books had come to an end. For everyone in our text, for everyone who was there that day, death was the end. There was no more. There was no revolution. There was no kingdom. There was no Messiah. Their last three years, and most likely their lives, were at an end. But this is Good Friday because with eyes of faith we see this truth: death which was a wall, death which was an end, in Jesus Christ death becomes a doorway. Death that was the final stop has now become the gateway to new life. The darkest day in human history has given way to sunlight. The saddest day in human history has given way to joy that doesn’t have an end. The kingdom of heaven is like a large church in a small town scattered into living rooms and kitchen tables, together and yet not together at the same time. The familiar truths of Good Friday wash over them in an unfamiliar way, and they find themselves amazed at how Good that Friday was. The kingdom of heaven is like the body of Christ, scattered far and wide. They are tempted toward doubt, until they look at the savior hung upon a cross. They are tempted toward despair, until they look at the hope of the empty tomb. They are tempted toward weakness, until they look and see their savior, dying for their sins, and they find themselves amazed at how Good that Friday was. The kingdom of heaven is like a young man who’s not as young as he used to be. These days are strange for him, as they are for so many. On the darkest days, the weight of it all threatens to overwhelm him. And yet for him, on the cross, the darkest day in human history has given way to sunlight. On the cross, the saddest day has given way to joy eternal, and once again, he finds himself amazed at how Good that Friday was. Amen and Amen. Palm Sunday: To Come and To Suffer
Holy Week 2020 John 12:12–19 // Isaiah 50:4–9a // Philippians 2:5–10 // John 12:20–43 Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Our sermon text for today is John 12, the Triumphal Entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, Today, we’re talking about assumptions, because we all have assumptions. Now, before you quote to me that old proverb of how you spell assume... did that cross your mind yet?... Let’s know first that everyone has assumptions, and in order to live regular life, you have to have assumptions. How do I know that? One person said it like this: “Nothing is on autopilot right now. And it's exhausting.” Because these last few weeks, when we can’t assume that things will stay the same, when we can’t act the way we always act, when we have to evaluate and reevaluate every move that we make, to act without assumption, these last few weeks have been exhausting. The deepest of these assumptions we call common sense. Have you ever caught yourself saying, “It’s just common sense!” It’s common sense to turn a light on if you’re in the dark. It’s common sense to turn your blinker on if you’re changing lanes. It’s common sense not to stick your set fingers into an electrical outlet And what about when someone doesn’t follow common sense? I told my son to put his underwear and pants and he puts on his pants, then his underwear. I go “Ahhgg!” I didn’t think I needed to spell it out. I thought it was just common sense. Or, I think about this. My wife put the thing next to the other thing, right by the door, thinking that I will see it when I leave the house and do the thing with both things, but then I don’t do anything with either of the things. Does that ever happen to you? I didn’t see it, or I didn’t think about it, or it just wasn’t as important to me. I’m not saying it’s not my fault, but you know her reaction. She goes “Ahhhgggg” I didn’t think I needed to spell it out. I thought it was just common sense. Why does that aggravate us so? Aggravate is the right word for it, for that feeling that goes along with the Ahhhggg sound. It’s different from when you’re hurt or when you’re mad or sad. It’s a sound of frustration, when you assume others will share your assumption. Things are not what they seemed to be. Can you relate to that feeling these days? Nobody is where they want to be. Nobody is doing what they want to do, and even if they are, they aren’t doing the way that they usually do. Today, I would invite you, on this Palm Sunday, to come to the foot of the cross. Today I would invite you to once again take all of your aggravation, all of your AAAAHhhhgggg, all of your frustration and lay it down once again like palm branches in front of Jesus as he goes to suffer on our behalf. With that feeling—with that understanding—we go to our text for today. Three assumptions that we would gather from the characters around Jesus. Three ways that we would correct our course in these days. Assumption number one: it was common sense—it was plain—to the crowds that Jesus had finally come into his own. They tried to make him king after the fed the (5,000) earlier. They are singing the same songs again, and in a sense, they are right. They’re saying the right words. They’re quoting the right Psalm—Psalm 118! They are calling Jesus the right things: the one who comes in the name of the Lord. He is a king. He’s coming to his throne. But. Even when they said the right words, they assumed the wrong things: the was a king of this world, that he would reign from Jerusalem, that the chains he was going throw off were those of the Roman Empire. And they were wrong. Assumption number two: It was common sense—it was plain—to everyone else in the narrative, to the disciples and to the Pharisees, that death awaited Jesus in Jerusalem. For the disciples it was plain that death was bad. They knew that Jesus was more than a bread king. He was more than a miracle worker; he was the Messiah, and for him to reign in the kingdom of heaven, well, even the Son of God had to be alive to rule a kingdom. Death wasn’t what they wanted, and it was common sense that it could be avoided and Jesus simply wasn’t working with common sense. Death was an abyss. Death was defeat. Death was the end. For the Pharisees death was good. “Better that one man die than a whole people perish.” And Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, was right. They were right that Jesus needed to die. But. They assumed that salvation for their people was letting their nation survive under the Roman empire. They, like the crowd, were looking to a physical kingdom, and they were prepared to pay any cost to keep it. But what if... what if we had a different assumption? What if we were working with a different purpose? His purpose was to come and to suffer. That’s what Isaiah 50 helps us begin to know. “I gave my back to those who strike.” He did allow himself to be flogged. “My cheeks to those who pull out the beard.” That means, he let others humiliate him. “I didn’t hide from disgrace and spitting.” But. Did you notice that in the OT text? But the Lord God helps me. I say it to my confirmation class often. There are a lot of big buts in the bible. Moses had a big but, David had a big but. Adam had a big but. Moses was a great leader but his anger got the best of him. David was a man after God’s own heart but even he fell into sin. Adam was created perfect but when given the choice to love freely he choose selfishness. But Jesus is the biggest reversal of them all. Jesus was God but he emptied himself of his power, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. But his humiliation was his glory. His death was not his end. The obedience that brought him down was the reason he was exalted to the highest places, was how he could win salvation for you and for me. Thought #1, The middle is not the end of the story. Let me tell you a little story. Our first child, Benny, was born September 30, 2015, and Laura was in labor for about 3 hours. I remember that moment of despair thinking, what if, what if she’s in this pain for 20 more hours? What if this is the end of the story? Those are the fears of the middle. What if this middle, this quarantine, lasted forever? What if this middle, this pain, doesn’t go away? What if this middle, this day of humiliation, this fear, this punishment never goes away? Dear friends in Christ, the good news is this, that the middle is not the end of the story. The good news is this, that Jesus came to Jerusalem expressly to suffer all he was appointed to suffer. The good news is this, that his path does not end in suffering but it leads, just as Philippians 2 says, it leads through suffering to glory. Thought #2, When we believe this, that the middle is not the end, when we say it again and again, and when are forced to cling to this truth, then we readjust our focus on what matters. These days, I have a longing in my heart to do ministry the way I’ve done it for my career: going to nursing homes, holding someone’s hand at a hospital bed, giving hugs after service... that’s one place where Pastor Griffin and I differ... but I can’t. Life does not look these days like it has. We don’t get to do what we want to do. But Jesus would bid us readjust our focus. Is the focus giving hugs and holding hands, or is our purpose to love our neighbor as ourselves? Well, you know the answer to that one. The kingdom of heaven is like a large church in a small town that is scattered in all sorts of locations, into homes and neighborhoods and living rooms. They cannot do what they’ve always done, and yet, their purpose stays the same: to make disciples for Jesus Christ. They cannot live like they’ve always lived, yet their Savior is still the same now and for always. They don’t know what’s ahead, and yet, they walk, one day at a time, one step at a time, trusting in their savior Jesus Christ, blessed be the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Today, of all days, let us walk the familiar path of Holy Week even in uncertain times. Today, of all days, let us remember the familiar story and let that story take over our lives. Today, of all days, let us remember that while we are in the middle, we know how this story ends. Amen and amen Palm Sunday: To Come and To Suffer
Holy Week 2020 John 12:12–19 // Isaiah 50:4–9a // Philippians 2:5–10 // John 12:20–43 Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Our sermon text for today is John 12, the Triumphal Entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, Today, we’re talking about assumptions, because we all have assumptions. Now, before you quote to me that old proverb of how you spell assume... did that cross your mind yet?... Let’s know first that everyone has assumptions, and in order to live regular life, you have to have assumptions. How do I know that? One person said it like this: “Nothing is on autopilot right now. And it's exhausting.” Because these last few weeks, when we can’t assume that things will stay the same, when we can’t act the way we always act, when we have to evaluate and reevaluate every move that we make, to act without assumption, these last few weeks have been exhausting. The deepest of these assumptions we call common sense. Have you ever caught yourself saying, “It’s just common sense!” It’s common sense to turn a light on if you’re in the dark. It’s common sense to turn your blinker on if you’re changing lanes. It’s common sense not to stick your set fingers into an electrical outlet And what about when someone doesn’t follow common sense? I told my son to put his underwear and pants and he puts on his pants, then his underwear. I go “Ahhgg!” I didn’t think I needed to spell it out. I thought it was just common sense. Or, I think about this. My wife put the thing next to the other thing, right by the door, thinking that I will see it when I leave the house and do the thing with both things, but then I don’t do anything with either of the things. Does that ever happen to you? I didn’t see it, or I didn’t think about it, or it just wasn’t as important to me. I’m not saying it’s not my fault, but you know her reaction. She goes “Ahhhgggg” I didn’t think I needed to spell it out. I thought it was just common sense. Why does that aggravate us so? Aggravate is the right word for it, for that feeling that goes along with the Ahhhggg sound. It’s different from when you’re hurt or when you’re mad or sad. It’s a sound of frustration, when you assume others will share your assumption. Things are not what they seemed to be. Can you relate to that feeling these days? Nobody is where they want to be. Nobody is doing what they want to do, and even if they are, they aren’t doing the way that they usually do. Today, I would invite you, on this Palm Sunday, to come to the foot of the cross. Today I would invite you to once again take all of your aggravation, all of your AAAAHhhhgggg, all of your frustration and lay it down once again like palm branches in front of Jesus as he goes to suffer on our behalf. With that feeling—with that understanding—we go to our text for today. Three assumptions that we would gather from the characters around Jesus. Three ways that we would correct our course in these days. Assumption number one: it was common sense—it was plain—to the crowds that Jesus had finally come into his own. They tried to make him king after the fed the (5,000) earlier. They are singing the same songs again, and in a sense, they are right. They’re saying the right words. They’re quoting the right Psalm—Psalm 118! They are calling Jesus the right things: the one who comes in the name of the Lord. He is a king. He’s coming to his throne. But. Even when they said the right words, they assumed the wrong things: the was a king of this world, that he would reign from Jerusalem, that the chains he was going throw off were those of the Roman Empire. And they were wrong. Assumption number two: It was common sense—it was plain—to everyone else in the narrative, to the disciples and to the Pharisees, that death awaited Jesus in Jerusalem. For the disciples it was plain that death was bad. They knew that Jesus was more than a bread king. He was more than a miracle worker; he was the Messiah, and for him to reign in the kingdom of heaven, well, even the Son of God had to be alive to rule a kingdom. Death wasn’t what they wanted, and it was common sense that it could be avoided and Jesus simply wasn’t working with common sense. Death was an abyss. Death was defeat. Death was the end. For the Pharisees death was good. “Better that one man die than a whole people perish.” And Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, was right. They were right that Jesus needed to die. But. They assumed that salvation for their people was letting their nation survive under the Roman empire. They, like the crowd, were looking to a physical kingdom, and they were prepared to pay any cost to keep it. But what if... what if we had a different assumption? What if we were working with a different purpose? His purpose was to come and to suffer. That’s what Isaiah 50 helps us begin to know. “I gave my back to those who strike.” He did allow himself to be flogged. “My cheeks to those who pull out the beard.” That means, he let others humiliate him. “I didn’t hide from disgrace and spitting.” But. Did you notice that in the OT text? But the Lord God helps me. I say it to my confirmation class often. There are a lot of big buts in the bible. Moses had a big but, David had a big but. Adam had a big but. Moses was a great leader but his anger got the best of him. David was a man after God’s own heart but even he fell into sin. Adam was created perfect but when given the choice to love freely he choose selfishness. But Jesus is the biggest reversal of them all. Jesus was God but he emptied himself of his power, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. But his humiliation was his glory. His death was not his end. The obedience that brought him down was the reason he was exalted to the highest places, was how he could win salvation for you and for me. Thought #1, The middle is not the end of the story. Let me tell you a little story. Our first child, Benny, was born September 30, 2015, and Laura was in labor for about 3 hours. I remember that moment of despair thinking, what if, what if she’s in this pain for 20 more hours? What if this is the end of the story? Those are the fears of the middle. What if this middle, this quarantine, lasted forever? What if this middle, this pain, doesn’t go away? What if this middle, this day of humiliation, this fear, this punishment never goes away? Dear friends in Christ, the good news is this, that the middle is not the end of the story. The good news is this, that Jesus came to Jerusalem expressly to suffer all he was appointed to suffer. The good news is this, that his path does not end in suffering but it leads, just as Philippians 2 says, it leads through suffering to glory. Thought #2, When we believe this, that the middle is not the end, when we say it again and again, and when are forced to cling to this truth, then we readjust our focus on what matters. These days, I have a longing in my heart to do ministry the way I’ve done it for my career: going to nursing homes, holding someone’s hand at a hospital bed, giving hugs after service... that’s one place where Pastor Griffin and I differ... but I can’t. Life does not look these days like it has. We don’t get to do what we want to do. But Jesus would bid us readjust our focus. Is the focus giving hugs and holding hands, or is our purpose to love our neighbor as ourselves? Well, you know the answer to that one. The kingdom of heaven is like a large church in a small town that is scattered in all sorts of locations, into homes and neighborhoods and living rooms. They cannot do what they’ve always done, and yet, their purpose stays the same: to make disciples for Jesus Christ. They cannot live like they’ve always lived, yet their Savior is still the same now and for always. They don’t know what’s ahead, and yet, they walk, one day at a time, one step at a time, trusting in their savior Jesus Christ, blessed be the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Today, of all days, let us walk the familiar path of Holy Week even in uncertain times. Today, of all days, let us remember the familiar story and let that story take over our lives. Today, of all days, let us remember that while we are in the middle, we know how this story ends. Amen and amen |
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