Keeping Vigil On This Mountain
First in a series, “Keeping Vigil” Isaiah 25:6–9 // 1 Cor. 15:1–11 // John 20:11–18 Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Our sermon text for today is Isaiah 25, these words in verse 6, “On this mountain the Lord of hosts a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine.” Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, Today, we are beginning our sermon series, Keeping Vigil. What does that mean, keeping vigil? It’s the word we use when a friend dies in a car crash or a national disaster strikes. We stay up all night. We pray. We keep vigil. It’s the word that we use for Easter Saturday service, Easter Vigil service, as we remember the whole narrative of Scripture on that strange day of silence between the crucifixion of Good Friday and the joy of Easter Sunday. We keep vigil. That’s the title of our sermons series in these days, Keeping Vigil. We are waiting and watching. We are praying in sure and certain hope of the resurrection even in unsure and uncertain times. Today, we are Keeping Vigil On This Mountain. On this mountain. I get that language from our Old Testament Reading, Isaiah 25. On This Mountain the Lord of Hosts is making a feast, and he’s talking in superlatives. The best feast ever. The best food. The best drink. And he will swallow up death forever. But let’s back up. I’m going to do some literary work here, so saddle up cowboys. Since chapter 13, Isaiah has been calling out nations around Judah, and all of Judah is saying, “Yeah! God, you get’m!” They’ve been seeing judgment come down on all the nations that have oppressed them, but then, but then, in chapter 22, God says, “Judah I’ve got to tell you about another people. This one is worse than all the rest. They knew the truth but they didn’t act on it. (Does that sound like us sometimes?) They were set apart but still they failed.” And then God says, “That people, Judah, is you.” Then, all of chapter 24 is about how God’s judgment is universal, how no one escapes, no one gets out of it, it is inevitable, and it is universal. And then we get to chapter 25. Usually, we read this passage Isaiah 25:6–9 during funerals, because it’s beautiful; it gives so much hope. Isaiah is on top of a mountain where God dwells in all of his fullness with all of humanity, having a feast that never ends. The final enemy defeated, the final judgment judged. All tears wiped away, All reproach gone. The only thing left is life, life to the full, with no room for anything that’s not gladness and joy, the deep belly laugh kind of joy. Can you imagine Isaiah turning toward this passage? Can you imagine him seeing this glimpse of the future? Can you imagine him absolutely busting at the seams to right this down, to tell this bit of good news to the people? Can you imagine him longing this longing, wishing for this dream to never end, hoping never to wake up from his vision? But then ... he does. He wakes up. And “On this mountain” becomes “On That Mountain.” The thing that was near for a moment is now far. The perfection that was at his fingertips is now a glimpse ended. Has that ever happened to you? Leave it in the comments. It’s like you’re having a really good dream, but right before you get to the best part, you wake up. It’s like being a kid, going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, hearing your mom and dad turn the car off, and thinking that you’re finally there but your mom says, “It’s only a bathroom break, we’ve got five minutes to get out, and we’ve got three more hours in the car.” It’s like the first run that I ever took in Janesville, a run out to the lake, and I’m huffing, and I’m puffing, and I think I can see the lake over the hill. I get to the top of the hill, thinking that I’m there, and there’s.... another hill. What does that do to you? How does that affect you? Two thoughts as we consider its effect in Isaiah. Two thoughts as we keep vigil on this mountain even as we long for that mountain. Thought #1 is that it makes this mountain harder. Thought #2 is that it gives this mountain meaning. Thought #1, Seeing that mountain can make this mountain harder. How does it do that? By reminding you how far away you are. Consider this thought about John 20, the story of Mary Magdalene weeping in the garden. Jesus comes up to her and reveals himself to her in a word. Mary. And she glimpses what she thought was impossible, her Savior right before her eyes, but then Jesus says (did you wonder about this?), he says, “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to my Father.” Mingled in with all the joy, all the astonishment, I would imagine her thought, “You want me to leave you again?” Seeing you now It’s the same thought you can imagine Mary and Martha having as they watched Lazarus age and decline for a second time. Here's a quote via a friend, on why Zoom and other virtual gatherings end up being so exhausting: "Our minds [are] tricked into the idea of being together when our bodies feel we’re not. [And that] Dissonance is exhausting. It’s easier [either] being in each other’s presence, or in each other’s absence [rather] than in the constant presence of each other’s absence." Constantly reminded that we are not together. You seeing me through the video screen, but me not being able to see you. Constantly able to do something but not the things that we want to do. Seeing that mountain can make this mountain harder, because it gives us a glimpse of something we do not yet have. C. S. Lewis said it like this in his essay, The Weight of Glory, (and he’s not just talking about stay-at-home orders in a pandemic, he’s talking about life before eternal life), “At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendours we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumour that it will not always be so. Someday, God willing, we shall get in.”[1] The pages of our Bible are rustling with the rumour that it will not always be so. The kingdom of heaven is like a man in the last chapter of life, but that chapter is longer than he ever wished it would be. His wife died 10 years before him. His children put him into a nursing home two years ago. Twenty years ago, he would’ve told you that he was the luckiest man alive. But these days, those memories are a distant past, a glimpse of what life will be, but not what life is now. Thought #2, Seeing that mountain gives this mountain meaning. How does it do that? I’ll tell you, the language I’m using is from an author, David Brooks who has a book called The Second Mountain. The thought that he has is that when he was in the prime of life, in his career, doing all the things, he got to a point where he could be considered successful, but he didn’t feel happy. He had everything you’d think you need to be happy but he wasn’t. So, in this book, he talks about how he climbed to the top of one mountain only to see a second one, a new ambition. What was that new ambition? A rich and fulfilled life. He goes on to say that for some this call to the second mountain calls them to leave their homes and live on the beach of Florida, or to sell all they have and do something entirely different, but that’s not what he was most fascinated by. The thing he was most fascinated by is that for some, discovering this second mountain transformed them exactly where they were at. Or in other words, it gave new meaning to what they already did. How seeing that mountain gives this mountain new meaning. Now this is a fine thought, but St. Paul says it better when he says it like this: “For I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain.” But by the grace of God I am what I am. Notice what he doesn’t do. He doesn’t deny the reality of what he has been. He doesn’t forget what he did or where he went. But then notice what Paul does do. This is the next verse. “On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them, though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me.” He says that the glimpse of God’s grace upon the cross changes everything. He says that in Jesus Christ, all of the tears, all the hardship, even the covering cast over all peoples is swallowed up. They are covered in the blood of Jesus, they die with Jesus on the cross, and then Jesus does something more: he walks out of the open tomb. For Paul, God’s grace transforms even our sin to be a part of the story of God’s redemption. God’s grace transforms all of our circumstances so that his name might be proclaimed in them. For Paul, he can say, “Even what I did for evil, God used for good.” What does that statement do to your day, in these days of uncertainty? How does that thought change what you say on Facebook, to or about your neighbor? Because it should change what you are doing today. The kingdom of heaven is like a large church in a small town keeping vigil whose lives are not what they were. Today was supposed to be Confirmation Day, and yet the Sanctuary is bare, the pews are empty, and the young people must wait to declare their faith to their congregation and to be welcomed to their Lord’s Supper. This is not the glimpse of heaven they were hoping for... and yet the grace of God covers all. Their story is held in the hand of their father. They are covered in the blood of Jesus. And because of the day that will come, because of that mountain, every thing, every day, in the meantime has meaning. Amen and amen. [1] C. S. Lewis, “The Weight of Glory.”
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Keeping Vigil On This Mountain
First in a series, “Keeping Vigil” Isaiah 25:6–9 // 1 Cor. 15:1–11 // John 20:11–18 Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Our sermon text for today is Isaiah 25, these words in verse 6, “On this mountain the Lord of hosts a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine.” Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, Today, we are beginning our sermon series, Keeping Vigil. What does that mean, keeping vigil? It’s the word we use when a friend dies in a car crash or a national disaster strikes. We stay up all night. We pray. We keep vigil. It’s the word that we use for Easter Saturday service, Easter Vigil service, as we remember the whole narrative of Scripture on that strange day of silence between the crucifixion of Good Friday and the joy of Easter Sunday. We keep vigil. That’s the title of our sermons series in these days, Keeping Vigil. We are waiting and watching. We are praying in sure and certain hope of the resurrection even in unsure and uncertain times. Today, we are Keeping Vigil On This Mountain. On this mountain. I get that language from our Old Testament Reading, Isaiah 25. On This Mountain the Lord of Hosts is making a feast, and he’s talking in superlatives. The best feast ever. The best food. The best drink. And he will swallow up death forever. But let’s back up. I’m going to do some literary work here, so saddle up cowboys. Since chapter 13, Isaiah has been calling out nations around Judah, and all of Judah is saying, “Yeah! God, you get’m!” They’ve been seeing judgment come down on all the nations that have oppressed them, but then, but then, in chapter 22, God says, “Judah I’ve got to tell you about another people. This one is worse than all the rest. They knew the truth but they didn’t act on it. (Does that sound like us sometimes?) They were set apart but still they failed.” And then God says, “That people, Judah, is you.” Then, all of chapter 24 is about how God’s judgment is universal, how no one escapes, no one gets out of it, it is inevitable, and it is universal. And then we get to chapter 25. Usually, we read this passage Isaiah 25:6–9 during funerals, because it’s beautiful; it gives so much hope. Isaiah is on top of a mountain where God dwells in all of his fullness with all of humanity, having a feast that never ends. The final enemy defeated, the final judgment judged. All tears wiped away, All reproach gone. The only thing left is life, life to the full, with no room for anything that’s not gladness and joy, the deep belly laugh kind of joy. Can you imagine Isaiah turning toward this passage? Can you imagine him seeing this glimpse of the future? Can you imagine him absolutely busting at the seams to right this down, to tell this bit of good news to the people? Can you imagine him longing this longing, wishing for this dream to never end, hoping never to wake up from his vision? But then ... he does. He wakes up. And “On this mountain” becomes “On That Mountain.” The thing that was near for a moment is now far. The perfection that was at his fingertips is now a glimpse ended. Has that ever happened to you? Leave it in the comments. It’s like you’re having a really good dream, but right before you get to the best part, you wake up. It’s like being a kid, going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, hearing your mom and dad turn the car off, and thinking that you’re finally there but your mom says, “It’s only a bathroom break, we’ve got five minutes to get out, and we’ve got three more hours in the car.” It’s like the first run that I ever took in Janesville, a run out to the lake, and I’m huffing, and I’m puffing, and I think I can see the lake over the hill. I get to the top of the hill, thinking that I’m there, and there’s.... another hill. What does that do to you? How does that affect you? Two thoughts as we consider its effect in Isaiah. Two thoughts as we keep vigil on this mountain even as we long for that mountain. Thought #1 is that it makes this mountain harder. Thought #2 is that it gives this mountain meaning. Thought #1, Seeing that mountain can make this mountain harder. How does it do that? By reminding you how far away you are. Consider this thought about John 20, the story of Mary Magdalene weeping in the garden. Jesus comes up to her and reveals himself to her in a word. Mary. And she glimpses what she thought was impossible, her Savior right before her eyes, but then Jesus says (did you wonder about this?), he says, “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to my Father.” Mingled in with all the joy, all the astonishment, I would imagine her thought, “You want me to leave you again?” Seeing you now It’s the same thought you can imagine Mary and Martha having as they watched Lazarus age and decline for a second time. Here's a quote via a friend, on why Zoom and other virtual gatherings end up being so exhausting: "Our minds [are] tricked into the idea of being together when our bodies feel we’re not. [And that] Dissonance is exhausting. It’s easier [either] being in each other’s presence, or in each other’s absence [rather] than in the constant presence of each other’s absence." Constantly reminded that we are not together. You seeing me through the video screen, but me not being able to see you. Constantly able to do something but not the things that we want to do. Seeing that mountain can make this mountain harder, because it gives us a glimpse of something we do not yet have. C. S. Lewis said it like this in his essay, The Weight of Glory, (and he’s not just talking about stay-at-home orders in a pandemic, he’s talking about life before eternal life), “At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendours we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumour that it will not always be so. Someday, God willing, we shall get in.”[1] The pages of our Bible are rustling with the rumour that it will not always be so. The kingdom of heaven is like a man in the last chapter of life, but that chapter is longer than he ever wished it would be. His wife died 10 years before him. His children put him into a nursing home two years ago. Twenty years ago, he would’ve told you that he was the luckiest man alive. But these days, those memories are a distant past, a glimpse of what life will be, but not what life is now. Thought #2, Seeing that mountain gives this mountain meaning. How does it do that? I’ll tell you, the language I’m using is from an author, David Brooks who has a book called The Second Mountain. The thought that he has is that when he was in the prime of life, in his career, doing all the things, he got to a point where he could be considered successful, but he didn’t feel happy. He had everything you’d think you need to be happy but he wasn’t. So, in this book, he talks about how he climbed to the top of one mountain only to see a second one, a new ambition. What was that new ambition? A rich and fulfilled life. He goes on to say that for some this call to the second mountain calls them to leave their homes and live on the beach of Florida, or to sell all they have and do something entirely different, but that’s not what he was most fascinated by. The thing he was most fascinated by is that for some, discovering this second mountain transformed them exactly where they were at. Or in other words, it gave new meaning to what they already did. How seeing that mountain gives this mountain new meaning. Now this is a fine thought, but St. Paul says it better when he says it like this: “For I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain.” But by the grace of God I am what I am. Notice what he doesn’t do. He doesn’t deny the reality of what he has been. He doesn’t forget what he did or where he went. But then notice what Paul does do. This is the next verse. “On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them, though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me.” He says that the glimpse of God’s grace upon the cross changes everything. He says that in Jesus Christ, all of the tears, all the hardship, even the covering cast over all peoples is swallowed up. They are covered in the blood of Jesus, they die with Jesus on the cross, and then Jesus does something more: he walks out of the open tomb. For Paul, God’s grace transforms even our sin to be a part of the story of God’s redemption. God’s grace transforms all of our circumstances so that his name might be proclaimed in them. For Paul, he can say, “Even what I did for evil, God used for good.” What does that statement do to your day, in these days of uncertainty? How does that thought change what you say on Facebook, to or about your neighbor? Because it should change what you are doing today. The kingdom of heaven is like a large church in a small town keeping vigil whose lives are not what they were. Today was supposed to be Confirmation Day, and yet the Sanctuary is bare, the pews are empty, and the young people must wait to declare their faith to their congregation and to be welcomed to their Lord’s Supper. This is not the glimpse of heaven they were hoping for... and yet the grace of God covers all. Their story is held in the hand of their father. They are covered in the blood of Jesus. And because of the day that will come, because of that mountain, every thing, every day, in the meantime has meaning. Amen and am [1] C. S. Lewis, “The Weight of Glory.” Iniquity is Crookedness Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
In our Lenten Midweek sermon series, we are looking at the words for sin in the Old and New Testament. We are looking at the words for sin and the corresponding pictures of sin. Today, we look at the Hebrew word Avon, translated into Greek as Anomia, in English “Iniquity.” Today we see Iniquity as Crookedness. If you watched the video that I posted, you would see that that’s one of the basic meanings of Avon, that sin is like a path that should be straight but it’s crooked. It’s like a way that should lead you to Mankato but instead leads you to Pemberton. We’ve used similar language in our confirmation program. In Genesis 3, everything that is good has been broken, marred, and smudged. Notice the first part of that statement. Everything that is good. The picture of sin as Crookedness helps us to know this truth, that sin isn’t a thing in itself. Sin is when something good has been broken. Sin as Crookedness is like walking the wrong direction. No matter how fast you go, you’re not going to make it to your destination. Sin as Crookedness is like a bent bike rim. No amount of riding is going to make it better; anything you do will only make it worse. It’s every time you go to talk to that one person, you know the one, and everything you say gets twisted into something you didn’t mean to say, or at least didn’t mean to sound that mean. It’s every time you get into a situation where there seems to be no way out, no right choice, no option rather than to take the hit and just get hurt. Sin as Crookedness. One of my good pastor friends has said this again and again to me, “Never waste a good crisis.” Why? Because crisis tends to set us straight. It forces us to choose what’s important and leave the rest behind. It challenges us to turn off distractions so that we can listen closer to what matters – to God’s Word, to long for what we know we should long for – God’s promises, to know them for the truth that they are, a truth that rises above the regular hum drum of our day-in and day-out. It rises above. Notice what that means. It doesn’t mean that your problems automatically go away. It doesn’t mean that your situation will magically change. It does mean that God would challenge you to care about something greater, something grander, something more. So, What pettiness is God challenging you to rise above? What distraction is God asking you to put down? Where is God inviting you to listen close? I can’t answer the first two but I can answer the last one. In fact, I’ll correct my earlier statement. It isn’t crisis that tends to set us straight; it’s God, your God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Today and everyday, he’s inviting you to spend your days holding your family close, starting your day in His Word, or doing what you’re doing now, ending your day with Scripture and song and prayer to the one who unbends what is broken. Today and everyday he’s inviting you to long for the fellowship in worship that even a month ago, we could have whenever we wanted. He’s the one patiently calling to you when all is well and he’s the one who’s voice you hear when everything is falling apart. He is the one who unbends what is broken. When I think about that, I think about my good friend Ernie Gahler who lent me some tools, he’s lent me a lot of tools, most of which I’ve given back. He lent me a pipe bending tool, to bend some copper pipe. Now I have to back up here. I can tell you that I’m not the handiest guy in the world so my wife does not ask me to do many handy-type projects. But one project she did ask me to do was she wanted me to make fanciful geometric designs out of 1/4in copper pipe. She wanted me to make a triangle out of this copper pipe to hang our hand towels on. So, before I went to Ernie, mind you, I made the first bend, and I went, uh-oh that’s not right. So I went to Ernie and learned that there are tools for this, and I learned my first great lesson, which is, always buy more copper pipe than you need, and I made the thing, and then at the end I set to work on the first bit of pipe, and after fiddling with it for a while I learned my second great lesson, and this is the one that matters: You cannot unbend that which is broken. I could get it better, yes, but I couldn’t undo what had been done. And the same is true for sin. On this side of eternity, we by ourselves, we cannot undo the effects of sin. Sin leaves scars. Hurts never really go away. Cares just grow. But. Praise be to God that he unbends us from our crookedness and by the miracle of who he is, he makes our path straight. Praise be to God that he sends his son to do everything that we needed him to do. Praise be to God that he can do what no one else can do. He can straighten our paths. He can show us a way of peace. He can defeat death, by his death, even death upon a cross. He CAN do this, and he DOES do this. He does it for you and for me. He saves us in Jesus Christ, in his cross, and in his resurrection. Amen and Amen. The Resurrection of Our Lord
To Rise and To Reign April 12, 2020 John 20:1-18 The day of Jesus’ resurrection was a normal day. Mary Magdalene came to the tomb early while it was still dark. She was doing her normal thing – taking care of the dead body of Jesus since it was rushed into the tomb. However, when she get’s there something was not normal. The body of Jesus was gone. This naturally would have left her scared and confused. The logical, normal thing that could have happened was that someone would have taken Jesus’ body out of the tomb because dead people don’t get up and walk. All who have experienced a loved one passing, or have been to a wake, know how lifeless a dead body is. The person that we knew is gone, yet their body remains cold and lifeless. Death is something that we have gotten used to. It is hard to imagine a world that does not include death. Common phrases have arisen emphasizing death’s certainty. With April being the normal month for taxes to be due, it brings to mind the two things that are certain in life. Death and taxes. We tend to think that death is the end, and such thinking leads to despair. Even today, we do our best to avoid it. Certainly, we do not seek death out, but we as a society try to avoid death like the plague. But since we know what death is, we can stand equally amazed in disbelief with Mary Magdalene at the tomb of Jesus. The empty tomb is the forensic evidence of our faith. It’s evidence that we do not see with our own eyes, and we doubt the reality of dead men returning to life. This doubt and disbelief are what send Simon Peter and John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, running to the tomb. And do not forget that John beat Peter there. When John arrived at the tomb and saw it empty he remained at the entrance of the tomb. After all, it is always better to leave a crime scene untouched until proper authorities arrive. That proper authority is Peter as he is the first of the disciples, meaning that he is the leader of the disciples now in Jesus’ absence. Both Peter and John were in that inner circle of Jesus that gave them respect among the other disciples. After all, when groups of people are suffering from crisis, when things are abnormal it is always better to keep some kind of normalcy so that the group can remain confident and not go into chaos and utter despair. We certainly see this today in our current pandemic crisis. Leaders of groups are taking charge and holding things together. Probably the closest these leaders get to our lives is in our very households. Fathers and mothers, even elder siblings, are taking charge in these days around the house and among the family to keep things from falling apart. Parents are discovering that they aren’t as good of teachers as they once thought. Older siblings are often taking charge and helping their younger brothers and sisters with not only school work, but even the other miniscule of tasks of the house. Still parents are navigating the difficult financial waters to make ends meet during this time and putting food on the table while also spending extra hours up at night completing their normal jobs from home. All the while everyone is just trying to hold it together. This is the thing about leadership: you never know if you’re doing it right, but you do it anyway. And somehow, and in some way, you exit the crisis of which you were leading and realize, “You know, that wasn’t all that bad. It wasn’t normal, but we made it through.” Leadership is always necessary in times of crisis and Peter with the support of John was fulfilling such a role as our holy mother, which is the church, is going through labor, as she is about to give birth to many children. John was the first to believe, as he believed in that very moment of entering the tomb. Even though he did not see Jesus yet, he believed that Jesus had risen from the dead. But none of this was normal. The first person to see Jesus risen from the dead was Mary. Mary was standing outside with Jesus, but she supposed Him to be the gardener. It wasn’t until Jesus called her by name that she recognized who He was. What an utter joy such an occasion would be to see a loved one who was dead, alive and well, call you by name. What great joy you have already experienced this in part. For at the waters of your baptism, Jesus calls you by name, as your mother – the church – gives birth to you as God’s beloved child. As a beloved child of God you cling to Jesus, seeking to be where He is. And as we have discussed on Thursday, where Jesus is, is in the Lord’s Supper. He is in His word. He is present where two or three are gathered in His name. For where two or three are gathered in His name where His word is being properly taught and the Sacraments are rightly administered is where the bridegroom is with his bride. The church, the community of believers, is where people go to, to cling to Jesus. But at the time that Mary see’s Jesus, the time of the church was not yet. One thing remained. “JESUS SAID TO HER, “DO NOT CLING TO ME, FOR I HAVE NOT YET ASCENDED TO THE FATHER; BUT GO TO MY BROTHERS AND SAY TO THEM, ‘I AM ASCENDING TO MY FATHER AND YOUR FATHER, TO MY GOD AND YOUR GOD.’” The mission is not complete yet, but it is coming to a rapid end. We tend to think that the church year ends here on Easter Sunday, but rather another great feast is yet to come. The ascension of Jesus into heaven is what gives His church it’s purpose. As one commentator once said, “To bear witness to the risen Lord is to testify that His mission has been completed, and that He has returned to the Father who sent Him.” In Christ’s return to the Father, Jesus gives us a place as heirs to the heavenly kingdom. For Jesus says, “I AM ASCENDING TO MY FATHER AND YOUR, FATHER, TO MY GOD AND YOUR GOD.” This is the message that Mary is to bring to Jesus’ disciples, which He now calls as brothers, for they are heirs with Him. As are all who are baptized in Christ’s church. We are all brothers and sisters together as one family because we have one Father who we have been reconciled to through Christ. Christ is the firstborn over all creation. He has the rightful place at sitting at the right hand of God where He lives and reigns over heaven and earth and bestows His heavenly gifts to His bride the church. THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS IS NOT A RETURN TO NORMAL, BUT RATHER A BEGINNING OF A DIFFERENT ERA WHERE HE REIGNS FOREVER. Therefore, in this life we need not fear death, for “Death is swallowed up in victory,” and given to us by faith. Amen, and amen. The peace that passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. 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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October 2022
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