Thursday, March 16, 2017

Not During the Feast (A sermon based on Matthew 26:1-5)

Timing is everything. That's certainly what the chief priests and elders of Israel thought. They wanted to arrest Jesus at just the right time to keep their sin a secret. Of course, we try to do the same: keep our sins secret by timing when they take place. But we can't keep anything hidden from God. And his timing is always best and he's always in control. Read or listen to (download) this sermon based on Matthew 26:1-5 and thank God, that in just the right time, he sent Jesus to become the Passover Lamb who takes away our sin! 

Ironies of the Passion

Not During the Feast

A sermon based on Matthew 26:1-5

Wednesday, March 15, 2017 – Midweek Lent 2

 

Timing is everything. Timing is important in comedy. The difference between a good joke and a late comeback is all in the timing. Timing is essential when dealing with other people. You don't ask for a raise when business is not going well and you don't ask for a favor when someone is angry. Timing is critical in cooking. The juicy burger on the grill is a lump of raw meat if under-cooked and a clump of charcoal if overcooked. Timing is important in hunting. Shoot too soon and you miss a better shot. Wait too long and your game might be spooked without you getting a shot at all. Timing makes all the difference in finance. When you buy and when you sell makes the difference between whether you make money or lose it. Yes, timing is everything.

That's how the chief priests and elders of Israel felt. They wanted Jesus dead. And they had plans to make it happen. But they needed to time it just right. They wanted Jesus arrested and killed, but in secret. They didn't want to get caught. They didn't want a riot to break out. So they plotted and planned to make the timing just right.

But, ironically, in spite of their best efforts and their timing, Jesus did things his own way. And his timing to be arrested and killed perfectly coincided with the only time they didn't want him arrested or killed. They said, "Not during the feast." But God's timing was perfect. Our text for consideration this evening is found in Matthew 26:1-5…

 

When Jesus had finished saying all these things, he said to his disciples, 2 "As you know, the Passover is two days away—and the Son of Man will be handed over to be crucified."

3 Then the chief priests and the elders of the people assembled in the palace of the high priest, whose name was Caiaphas, 4 and they plotted to arrest Jesus in some sly way and kill him. 5 "But not during the Feast," they said, "or there may be a riot among the people."

 

The chief priests and elders wanted to time Jesus' arrest and death to take place away from the crowds and away from watchful eyes. They wanted to keep their treacherous sin secret. And to do that, they wanted to avoid any public trials, they wanted to avoid the pilgrims that were in town for the feast—that is, the Passover celebration. One estimate said that Jerusalem swelled from 50,000 residents during most of the year to five times that at 250,000 residents during the Festival of the Passover. That's like the entire population of the Peninsula jumping to half the population of Anchorage (or sort of like what we see every year during the fishing season).

So if they wanted to keep their murder quiet, they certainly didn't need extra witnesses around. And they didn't want huge crowds of people—many of whom loved Jesus and believed him to be a miracle worker even if not the Messiah—ready to riot should they find out what the priests and elders intended to do with Jesus.

"They plotted to arrest Jesus in some sly way and kill him. 'But not during the Feast,' they said, 'or there may be a riot among the people.'"

Well, we get it don't we? We understand what the priests and elders were up to, because we've done it ourselves. Okay, so maybe we haven't plotted a secret murder. (I don't know. If you have, you've at least kept it secret from me.) But we have plotted our own sins in their various forms. We get impatient waiting for God's promised blessings. Heaven seems so far away. And we want immediate gratification right now, not delayed gratification for someday some number of decades from now! So when God's timing conflicts with ours, we do what we can to get what we want.

And like those priests and elders, we, of course, want to keep our sin a secret. So we plan to carry it out in some sly way… When no one else is at home, when we think no one else is watching, when it's late and night and everyone else is asleep, that's when we pull our pet sins, and take them out of the cage to run around a bit. That's when we do the things we'd never dream of doing if we knew others were watching. That's when we sin "in some sly way… or there may be a riot…" among my family, among my friends, among those I respect and care about.

And in a sense, that's when we too kill Jesus. After all, it was for our sins—the one's we slip into and the ones we love to pull out in secret—that Jesus had to die.

And, of course, you know that we can't keep any secrets from God. When we think no one else is at home, that no one else is watching, you know who's really looking right over your shoulder, who's watching as you again shatter his commandments, whose heart is breaking at your rebellion. You know that God sees it all.

And you know that in spite of your timing, in time you will regret your sin… always! You will either regret it in genuine contrition and repentance, or you will regret it eternally in suffering and torment. As one author once put it: We all face the choice between two pains: (And we must choose one!) The pain of self-denial or the pain of regret.

Since, in our impatience with God, we've often chosen self-indulgence over self-denial, then please, choose the pain of regret now in sincere repentance, rather than the pain of eternal regret. And when we do, we find the wonderful comfort that God has removed our sin in his good time…

Our timing is so often faulty. That's why the jokes fail and we rub others the wrong way. That's why we sometimes burn dinner and miss the shot. That's why we lose money in the market. And that's why we sin against God. If timing is everything, ours is so often waaaay off.

But God's timing… his is always spot on. God's timing is perfect. There's an old German proverb that says, "Der Mensch denkt, Gott lenkt." Translated literally, it's "Man thinks, God controls." You might say, "Man proposes, God disposes." It's a pithy way of paraphrasing Proverbs 19:21: "Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails." Sinful man plans for things to go one way, but our plans fail. God plans things another way, and his plans always work out.

It should be no surprise to you that it's always been this way; that God is in control of events and their timing. Galatians 4:4 says, "But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law…" God timed the events of Jesus' birth when things were just right according to his plan. When Mary told Jesus to deal with the lack of wine at a friend's wedding, Jesus replied (in John 2:4), "Dear woman, why do you involve me? … My time has not yet come." When his brothers told him, "Now is the time to capitalize on your celebrity," he told them (in John 7:6,8), "The right time for me has not yet come; for you any time is right… You go to the Feast. I am not yet going up to this Feast, because for me the right time has not yet come."

John 7:30 says, "They tried to seize [Jesus], but no one laid a hand on him, because his time had not yet come." And John 8:20 repeats it: "He spoke… in the temple area… Yet no one seized him, because his time had not yet come." Time and again, people made their plans for Jesus. But Jesus was in control of the events and of their timing.

And it was certainly the case with the timing of Jesus' arrest and death, that God, not the priests and elders, was in control. The priests and elders wanted to time their murder of Jesus in a way that would keep it secret. But God wanted to make it public. He timed it just right to have a large audience in Jerusalem (maybe 250,000 people!) gathered there for the Passover celebration. They wanted it any time except during the festival. But God wanted it during the festival. So Jesus told his disciples, "As you know, the Passover is two days away—and the Son of Man will be handed over to be crucified." That's when it would happen, when God was good and ready—not a moment before, nor a spit second after—no matter what the priests and elders tried to do.

And with Judas' betrayal, the hand of the priests and elders was forced to act right then! This was the opportunity they were waiting for. And, so, ironically, because they acted when they did, Jesus' arrest took place at the very time they had hoped to avoid—right during the Feast.

And God timed it just right, not only so there would be a large crowd from all over the Roman empire to witness or hear of Jesus' death,  but it was timed perfectly to coincide with the Feast to highlight Jesus' death as the fulfillment of the Passover picture.

Remember what the Passover was all about? They were to take a lamb (one without any blemishes or defects) and keep it in their home for several days to grow attached to the cute, cuddly thing. Then on the day of the Feast, they were to slaughter it, drain its blood into a bowl, and paint it on the door frame of their house. They were to roast it whole (without breaking any bones) and eat it with their family all as a reenactment of that first Passover—the last of the 10 Plagues—that took place in Egypt right before God's people were freed from slavery and promised a new home, a Promised Land. And while God warned that the firstborn male of every home would be executed by his angel of death, he also promised that for those who painted the blood of the lamb on the door frames of their homes, the angel of death would pass over and they would be free. Thus the name, "Passover."

And of course, you see the clear picture of Jesus: a man without any blemishes or defects, morally perfect and pure, sinless in every way. And though he was very dear to the father, he was slaughtered for sinful mankind—and that without breaking a single bone! And for those who trust God's promise—that by his blood shed for us our sins are removed (even our "secret" sins that no one knows but us and God) and we too become perfect and pure, sinless just as he is—God's wrath will pass over us on the day of his judgment. And we have been set free from slavery to sin and promised a new home, a "Promised Land," not in the Middle East, but in heaven.

How fitting that Jesus' arrest and death took place during the Feast of Passover! Just as the lamb was slaughtered, so too Jesus became "the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!" (John 1:29) And we too reenact the Passover, eating and drinking, not lamb and wine, but Jesus' very body and blood given and shed for us to take away our sin and give us the forgiveness he won in his death. Thank God for his perfect timing!

And now, this peace we have with God, with our every sin—public or secret—forgiven, erased, gone! …we find a peace and contentment that gives us patience while we wait for God's timing in our lives, even as we wait for the heaven he's promised each of us.

Woody Allen once said, "If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans." That was his way of saying, "Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails." (Proverbs 19:21) Don't let that stop you from planning ahead, but do know that God is ultimately in control. And that's definitely how you want it to be because God's plans mean your eternal salvation. Then, seeing how he timed it all perfectly for Jesus to pay for your sins and give you peace with him, don't plan to sin anymore. And when you do sin by mistake, don't plan to hide it and cover it up, but confess it. Plan to come hear those comforting words again, that in Jesus you are forgiven: "God, our heavenly Father, has forgiven all your sins. By the perfect life and innocent death of our Lord Jesus Christ, he has removed your guilt forever. You are his own dear child. May God give you strength to live according to his will." In the name of Jesus, the Lamb of God who took away the sin of the world, dear friends, amen.


In Him,
Pastor Rob Guenther

Grace Evangelical Lutheran Church
47585 Ciechanski Road, Kenai, AK 99611

Listen to sermons online: www.GraceLutheranKenai.com/Podcast
Watch services online: www.GraceLutheranKenai.com/Webcast

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The Wound of Betrayal (A sermon based on Matthew 26:20-25)

Have you ever been betrayed? Betrayal hurts doesn't it? It hurts precisely because it was a friend -- someone you thought you could trust -- who betrayed you. As you read or listen to (download) this sermon based on Matthew 26:20-25 and hear of Judas' betrayal of Jesus, remember how you too have betrayed Jesus in your sin. But also rejoice that by his betrayal, Jesus won forgiveness for you of your betrayal and of every sin. 

The Wound of Betrayal

A sermon based on Matthew 26:20-25

Sunday, March 12, 2017 – Lent 2

 

"Et tu?" You don't have to be a Latin scholar to know what that short, two-word phrase means, or how it entered common usage. This Wednesday is March 15th—the "Ides of March." That's the day when the Roman senate, fearing that Julius Caesar was growing far too powerful than one man should ever become, betrayed and murdered him at the theater. And as he was being stabbed to death (some 23 times!), Julius recognized his close friend, Marcus Brutus, as one of the 60 conspirators attacking him. Brutus had been a confidant, a supporter, even a counselor of Julius Caesar. So you can imagine the shock of betrayal by such a close friend that led him to cry out as his last words, "Et tu, Brute?" "You too, Brutus?"

Throughout the Sundays of Lent this year we're going to examine the many wounds our Savior suffered in his Passion, his trip to the cross. But we'll look, not at the physical wounds in his back, his head, his hands, his feet, and his side, but the emotional blows the suffered, which were just as bad, if not worse than, the physical abuse he endured.

And today, we begin with that wound of betrayal. Of course, you know the story of Judas' betrayal of Jesus, handing him over to his death for 30 pieces of silver. But as we look at this account this morning, Jesus doesn't want us to focus on how evil and cowardly Judas was. Instead he wants to ask each of us, "Et tu, Christian?" Do you too betray me?

And he wants to ask that soul-piercing question not just to wound us, but so that he might heal our wounded souls by the wounds he endured in our place. Our text for this morning is found in Matthew 26:20-25…

 

20 When evening came, Jesus was reclining at the table with the Twelve. 21 And while they were eating, he said, "I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me."

22 They were very sad and began to say to him one after the other, "Surely not I, Lord?"


23 Jesus replied, "The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. 24 The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born."

25 Then Judas, the one who would betray him, said, "Surely not I, Rabbi?"

Jesus answered, "Yes, it is you."

 

Have you ever been betrayed? Maybe you told a friend how much you liked someone, only to hear that they asked that special person out the very next day. Or maybe you shared a secret with a someone, "I've never told this to anyone before…" And then, everyone knew your private business within hours. Or maybe you had a joint venture planned and your would-be partner pulled out last minute costing you a small fortune. Or maybe someone promised you that they'd be faithful till death do you part, and it turned out, they didn't mean it.

If you've been betrayed before, and I'm guessing everyone here has been betrayed to some degree or another, I'd be willing to bet that the common denominator in everyone's betrayal, is that it was done by a friend, by someone you thought you could trust. In fact, that's what makes it betrayal, isn't it, instead of just hostility from an open enemy. And that's what made it hurt.

That's what hurt Jesus that night. He was being betrayed by a close friend—by "one who [had] dipped his hand into the bowl" with him. In our culture, you might say someone close enough that you wouldn't mind if they double-dipped—you know, they took a bite, then put that same piece of food that touched their lips back in the bowl of dip that you both share. You only do that with someone you're pretty close to.

And as much as we like to villainize Judas (and rightly so—he did sell out the Son of God for a few thousand dollars in today's terms), yet, all of the disciples betrayed him that night didn't they? They recognized that each of them were capable of such cowardly betrayal already at the meal. "They were very sad and began to say to him one after the other, 'Surely not I, Lord?'" They knew the potential of their sinful natures and asked, "Et me, Jesus?" "Is it me?"

And of course, you know what happened later that night. After they swore they would never disown him, they fell asleep when asked to keep watch. They ran and hid when Jesus needed them the most. They swore that they never knew the man who had done nothing but love them. What cowardice! What betrayal!

And as much as we like to villainize Judas (and the rest of the disciples), we have to admit we too are capable of betrayal. In fact, I'm sure that we've all been on the giving end of betrayal just as we've been on the receiving end. Have you ever talked about someone behind their back? You've betrayed their trust. Have you promised something to a friend that you failed to deliver on? You betrayed that friend. If you've ever lied to your parents, you betrayed them by your dishonesty. And if you've ever had a fleeting thought about being intimate with anyone other than you're spouse, you've betrayed your promise to be faithful.

And in all of this, you've betrayed God too. You see it's not those sinners out there who betray Jesus. No. It's expected that unbelievers and atheists, religious liberals, and those practicing an openly sinful lifestyle would all rebel against Jesus. But it's his friends—you and me, who call ourselves Christians, little Christs, who have sworn to him our undying allegiance—who betray him. We betray him when we pretend like we don't know him, when we act like we don't know him, when we show him that we think we're more important than he is.

And we not only break Jesus' heart, but we incur God's wrath. Jesus said in Luke 9:26, "If anyone is ashamed of me and my words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his glory and in the glory of the Father and of the holy angels." 

Can you hear the sorrow in Jesus' voice as he looks at you and asks you, "Et tu, Christian?" "You too would betray me?" And we have to confess, "Me tu, Jesus. Me too. I too have betrayed you. And I'm ashamed my betrayal… I know that I deserve hell for it. And I'm sorry… so sorry for what I've done."

 

But don't just hear the disappointment in Jesus' voice as he tells his disciples, "I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me." Also hear the sorrow of what Jesus said about the sad, final fate of Judas: "Woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born." I think Jesus probably said this with a tear rolling down his cheek.

In his omniscience, he saw what would become of Judas. He knew that Judas would despair, and, believing that God's mercy could never be for him—for such a traitor—, that his sin was far too great for God's grace, would miss out on the forgiveness that Christ would win for him. And that reality must have broken Jesus' heart far more than the betrayal. You see, even for Judas' betrayal, Jesus never stopped loving him. 

And Jesus never stops loving you, no matter how many times you've betrayed him. And he loved you and every traitor, every Judas, so much that he willingly chose the cross and let soldiers stretch out his hands and pound in the nails. It was for the sins of every Judas, for you and me, that our Brother pleaded, "Father, forgive them!" It was for the betrayal of every Judas, for yours and mine, that our Savior endured the worst betrayal—as God the Father turned his back on the sinless Son of God, who took our sin and hell's punishment on himself. "Et tu, Pater?" "You too, Father?" Jesus could have cried from the cross as he died for us.

And by his perfect sacrifice, he won forgiveness of every sin, of every betrayal ever committed! Don't believe the lie that Judas did—that your sin is too big for God's mercy. You are forgiven, no matter how great your betrayal! His forgiveness is for "et tu," for "you too!" So great is the love of Jesus for you that it overcomes your betrayal and your every sin. And Jesus will never betray you or ever stop loving you.

And so, as hard as it might be, in Jesus who forgives us in spite of our betrayal, we find the strength to forgive those who have betrayed us. Though it will mean torture and death for the sinful nature to do it, in Jesus who loves us in spite of our betrayal, we find the strength to love even those who have hurt us so badly. Even though it will be a cross to carry, in thanks to Jesus who served us by carrying a literal cross to hell on Mount Calvary, we find the strength to serve even those who have let us down time and time again. We do it all not because it's fun, but to show our thanks to Jesus for all he's done for us.

"Et tu?" Yes, we too have betrayed our Savior just like Judas did. But today we celebrate his love that is far greater than all of our betrayals! "Et tu?" Yes, we too can endure the pain of being betrayed with forgiveness and love and grace, being recipients of the same from God. "Et tu?" We too will serve our Savior and others in thanksgiving with no more betrayals until he returns or calls us home. And on that day we will be so glad we were born when he says to us, "Come, enjoy the kingdom prepared for you." (cf. Matthw 25:34) "Et tu?" Yes, for you too! In Jesus' name, dear friends, amen.


In Him,
Pastor Rob Guenther

Grace Evangelical Lutheran Church
47585 Ciechanski Road, Kenai, AK 99611

Listen to sermons online: www.GraceLutheranKenai.com/Podcast
Watch services online: www.GraceLutheranKenai.com/Webcast

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It’s Better That One Man Die (A sermon based on John 11:45-53)

How ironic! The leader meant one thing, but what he said actually meant the very opposite. Caiaphas knew it was better that one man, Jesus, die, than that the whole nation should perish. But he was really worried that he might lose his position of power. God meant something different. He didn't want people lost forever to hell. He agreed that it was better that one man -- the God man -- should die than that the whole nation should perish. Read or listen to (download) this sermon based on John 11:45-53 and see how God ironically rescued us...

It's Better That One Man Die

A sermon based on John 11:45-53

Wednesday, March 8, 2017 – Midweek Lent 2

 

How ironic!

In 2012 Rabbi Jonathan Cahn wrote a book called The Harbinger. In it, he described how several national leaders, including the President of the United States, President Barack Obama, repeatedly quoted Isaiah 9:10 as the memorial to the World Trade Centers was completed.

They said, "The bricks have fallen down, but we will rebuild with dressed stone; the fig trees have been felled, but we will replace them with cedars."

And they meant it as a message of national pride and determination not to let our enemies ever get the best of us. Whatever they destroy, we will rebuild stronger and better and more resilient.

But ironically, it would seem that they never checked the context of Isaiah 9:10. Apparently some speech writer just searched for Bible passages with "bricks" and "fallen," because Isaiah 9:10 wasn't really a great verse to quote.

Here it is in its context… (Isaiah 9:9-19)

The Lord has sent a message against Jacob; it will fall on Israel. All the people will know it… who say with pride and arrogance of heart, "The bricks have fallen down, but we will rebuild with dressed stone; the fig trees have been felled, but we will replace them with cedars."

But the Lord has strengthened…  foes against them and has spurred their enemies on…. [They] have devoured Israel with open mouth. Yet for all this, his anger is not turned away, his hand is still upraised. But the people have not returned to him who struck them, nor have they sought the Lord Almighty. So the Lord will cut off from Israel both… the elders and… the prophets who teach lies… By the wrath of the Lord Almighty the land will be scorched and the people will be fuel for the fire…"

You get the point? God was saying, "I sent enemies to attack you and knock down your walls, to discipline you and call you back to me. Yet in your arrogance you still refuse to repent of your sin and admit that you need me. You just cry, 'No big deal! We can rebuild!' Therefore, God will punish you even more."

What our leaders meant as a rally cry to rise up and rebuild what our enemies have destroyed, was really, in its context a defiant rebellion against God, shaking the fist, not at one's enemies, but at him.

How ironic! Though Isaiah 9, and President Obama's bold assertion that Isaiah 9:10 applies to us, may be prophetic for our nation, as Rabbi Jonathan Cahn suggests it is, I don't think our leaders understood what they were saying at all.

In a similar way, the leader of the nation of Israel, the high priest to whom all Israelites looked for direction and instruction, made a bold assertion that he didn't really understand. He meant one thing by it, but God, speaking through him, meant something completely different. And how ironic it was.

Our text for consideration this evening is found in John 11:45-53…

 

45 Therefore many of the Jews who had come to visit Mary, and had seen what Jesus did [in raising Lazarus from the dead], put their faith in him. 46 But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done. 47 Then the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting of the Sanhedrin.

"What are we accomplishing?" they asked. "Here is this man performing many miraculous signs. 48 If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation."

49 Then one of them, named Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, spoke up, "You know nothing at all! 50 You do not realize that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish."

51 He did not say this on his own, but as high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus would die for the Jewish nation, 52 and not only for that nation but also for the scattered children of God, to bring them together and make them one. 53 So from that day on they plotted to take his life.

 

How ironic! The miracles that Jesus did should have proved to everyone who he really was: The very Son of God with power over sickness and disease and even over death itself! And while many believed, it was only many, not everyone!

How ironic! The chief priests and Pharisees readily admitted, "Here is this man performing many miraculous signs." They didn't deny that Lazarus had been dead, but now was alive! Yet, they refused to follow those clear and obvious signs to their logical conclusion! It was like someone visiting a city they've never been to before and then refusing to listen to the GPS or even look at a map when they get there.

These leaders—who should have been on the lookout for the coming Messiah and ready to point the people to the one who had finally come to fulfill the prophecies of their sacred writings and rescue his people from their sin—these were so concerned that they might lose their positions, their authority, their power and prestige, that they were willing to plot murder just to keep their cushy jobs.

And they were willing to justify framing and executing an innocent man in their own minds because of what was at stake. With a Machiavellian attitude that believed the ends justified the means, their spokesman, Caiaphas declared, "It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish." And, "from that day on they plotted to take his life."

 

So what does any of this have to do with us? Well, if we're honest, we have to admit that we are just like Caiaphas in this account.

"Wait… what?! 'Like Caiaphas' did you just say?! Not me! I've never plotted an assassination to keep my position. I'd never dream of having someone whacked just to keep my job!"

Okay, granted, you may not have plotted murder. But you surely have committed other sins—sins which you planned ahead of time, sins which you plotted. You too have had the same pride in your heart that has rejected God's plan for your life and as has taken on your own.

And while your sin may not have cost another person their life, you know that your sin has certainly hurt other people—whether physically or emotionally. (And you know that the scars last longer with that latter kind of hurt.) It may not have been so blatant as our national leaders quoting Isaiah 9:10 or Caiaphas declaring that Jesus had to die, but you too have stood defiantly shaking your fist at God.

And you too have tried to justify your sin. "If I don't follow the crowd in their sin, I'll lose my friends. Then how can I be a witness to them?" "If I don't cheat a little at work—and that's just the way everyone operates, the boss expects it—then I could get fired. And if that happens, I'd have nothing to put in the offering plate." "If I don't sit around lazily, I'd wear myself out. Then I'd have no energy to serve Jesus." "Don't you know that's it better for me to sin just this once than that the whole church should perish?" It's sad, isn't it?

And you know what you deserve for it all. To quote Isaiah, "By the wrath of the Lord Almighty the land will be scorched and the people will be fuel for the fire…" (Isaiah 9:19) Just like Caiaphas and those Israelite leaders did, just like all who defy God in their arrogance do, you and I deserve hell for our sin against God.

 

But… Thank God that we don't get what we deserve because what Caiaphas declared was all a part of his plan.

Caiaphas… spoke up, "You know nothing at all! You do not realize that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish."

51 He did not say this on his own, but as high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus would die for the Jewish nation, 52 and not only for that nation but also for the scattered children of God, to bring them together and make them one.

 

How ironic! Caiaphas told the Sanhedrin that they knew nothing at all. But as he spoke, he knew nothing at all about what he was saying. He meant they had to put a hit out on Jesus to maintain their positions and their authority. But God meant something completely different.

How ironic! That the man who's job description was to point people to Jesus—and that's what the Jewish priests were supposed to do: by the daily sacrifices and regular rituals, point the people to the coming Messiah who would take away their sins—was ready to kill the Messiah. How ironic! That the man who wanted to kill Jesus actually preached the Gospel message of what Jesus had come to do!

"It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish." And, "As high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus would die for the Jewish nation…"

How ironic! That using Caiaphas and his pride and his paranoia at losing his job, God set in motion the events that would lead to Jesus' death—the very death the daily sacrifices at the temple made by every priest pointed to. He would become the Lamb of sacrifice, the substitute that the Scapegoat and the sacrificial goat were every year on the Day of Atonement—the same that Caiaphas would kill year after year sprinkling its blood in the Most Holy Place.

Sadly, though Caiaphas saw all of those signs—at least in the Word, if not in the rituals—nevertheless, he refused to follow those clear and obvious signs to their logical conclusion; that Jesus was the Messiah, the anointed one who came to save his people from their sins—and not only them, but all people.

 

What Caiaphas said wasn't just better for the Sanhedrin. "It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish."

You deserve hell. You deserve to be "fuel for the fire," for your stubborn rebellion against God. But you don't get what you deserve because one man—the God-man—died for the people, for all people, "not only for that nation but also for the scattered children of God…" that is, for all people everywhere.

Jesus lived a perfect life in your place, always submitting to God's will and God's law, never raising his fist at the Father, never questioning his ways or disobeying in any way. And he gave you his perfection.

Then Jesus died an innocent death as a result of what Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin insisted Pilate do to him. And on that cross he was not only tortured and killed in a horrific way, but he also endured the punishment for every sin that you and I deserve. He endured the hell of the Father's wrath. By the wrath of the Lord Almighty Jesus was scorched. He became fuel for the fire so you and I don't have to.

Now, through faith in him, you are forgiven of every sin you've ever committed, of every time you've raised the fist to God, or arrogantly defied him by breaking one of his commands. Through faith in him you have become "children of God…"—dearly loved sons and daughters of God the Father, whom he loves dearly and longs to have join him in heaven. How wonderfully ironic!

So rejoice, dear friends, in this forgiveness that is yours because one man died for the people. And go and prophecy as Caiaphas did. Let others know the ironic message of that high priest: that he died for them too "for the scattered children of God, to bring them together and make them one." In Jesus' name, dear friends, amen.


In Him,
Pastor Rob Guenther

Grace Evangelical Lutheran Church
47585 Ciechanski Road, Kenai, AK 99611

Listen to sermons online: www.GraceLutheranKenai.com/Podcast
Watch services online: www.GraceLutheranKenai.com/Webcast

Have you been blessed by our ministry at Grace? Consider supporting us with your generous gifts. Give securely online with a check or credit or debit card here: www.GraceLutheranKenai.com/Give

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Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Return to the Lord (A sermon based on Joel 2:12-19)

"If God seems distant to you, you can guess who moved away." So read a sign outside of a church. The point of course is obvious: We have too often turned away from God. In fact, we do this every time we sin. But God pleads with us to return to him. Return to him in genuine repentance. But then return to him in trust. For he is a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity when we return to him. Read or listen to (download) this sermon based on Joel 2:12-19 and be encouraged to...

Return to the Lord

A sermon based on Joel 2:12-19

Sunday, March 5, 2017 – Lent 1

 

So, we're already four days into Lent. (By the way, the 40 days of Lent don't include Sundays. That's why we call them "Sundays in Lent" and not "Sundays of Lent" and why there are 46 days between Ash Wednesdays and Easter. Sundays in Lent are considered mini-Easters and don't count. So, if you've given up something for Lent, Sunday's aren't "cheat days," they're days off.) So, have you given up something for Lent?

Giving up something for Lent can be a devotional tool if done for the rightreason—not to lose weight or kick a habit, not to show others how religious you are, and certainly not to earn any favor with God. So more than one pastor has suggested that instead of giving something up, we all ought to take something up. Perhaps for the remaining 36 days of Lent we all ought to take up a devotion booklet and commit to reading it every Monday through Saturday until Easter (Sundays are off for worship).

In a similar way, many people think that Lent is a time of turning away from something. Turning away from your sin in repentance, trying to form new habits, almost as if it were another shot at your New Year's resolutions. And while it's true that there is a certain focus on repentance and turning away from sin, the real purpose of Lent is not to turn away from certain things, but to turn to the Lord, to turn to Jesus, and see again his great love and his great work for you and me. Remember repentance has two parts: 1) Sorrow over your sin, but also 2) Turning to Jesus in trust.

So, over the next 6 weeks, we'll embark on our annual review of our Savior's suffering and death by which he accomplished our Salvation. We'll see how our Savior was wounded to save his wounded people under the theme, "O Sacred Head, Now Wounded." But first, today, we get the general encouragement, not to just turn from something, but to turn to—or return to—the Lord. The message for this morning is based on Joel 2:12-19…

 

12 "Even now," declares the Lord, "return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning." 13 Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity. 14 Who knows? He may turn and have pity and leave behind a blessing—grain offerings and drink offerings for the Lord your God. 

15 Blow the trumpet in Zion, declare a holy fast, call a sacred assembly. 16 Gather the people, consecrate the assembly; bring together the elders, gather the children, those nursing at the breast. Let the bridegroom leave his room and the bride her chamber. 17 Let the priests, who minister before the Lord, weep between the temple porch and the altar. Let them say, "Spare your people, O Lord. Do not make your inheritance an object of scorn, a byword among the nations. Why should they say among the peoples, 'Where is their God?' "

 18 Then the Lord will be jealous for his land and take pity on his people. 19 The Lord will reply to them: "I am sending you grain, new wine and oil, enough to satisfy you fully; never again will I make you an object of scorn to the nations. 

 

The nation of Israel was in ruins. They economy and the crops were already so bad that the people had nothing to bring to God, no animals to offer on the altar outside his tabernacle. It would be like us hitting such an economic downturn that not only would you not be able to bring any more offerings to church, but we wouldn't be able to afford to even buy the bread and wine for use in the sacrament. Their worship was being effected by how bad things were.

But that wasn't the end of it because things were about to get worse; waaaaay worse. Joel prophesied that the nation was about to be hit hard by a hoard of locusts. Now the commentaries go back and forth debating whether these were locust were literal or figurative. But either way it was bad news. If they were literal locusts, that meant economic ruin, famine, and starvation as all of their crops would be devoured. If were figurative (most likely representing the Assyrian army), it meant war where many would be slaughtered and those who survived would have a life of slavery to look forward to.

Doesn't sound like fun either way, does it? But you know the worst part? God didn't just allow these problems, he was sending them. And he was sending them as a consequence for the people's rebellion against him. They brought this on themselves when they turned away from him. They stopped worshiping him, they stopped bringing their offerings to him, they stopped trusting in him. And because they turned away from God, God would turn away from them… for a time.

But there was hope. And Joel came to bring that message of hope to the people. There was a way to turn things around, even now at this 11th hour, as the locusts were on their way.

"Even now," declares the Lord, "return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning.  Rend your heart and not your garments."

The solution Joel offered was a call to repent—to have a change of mind, to turn around, to turn from their rebellion and sin and turn back to the Lord. Of course, Joel reminded them that God didn't just want empty motions. God, who knew their hearts, knew if they were just mouthing the words without meaning them. When an Israelite was grieved or outraged, their cultural way of showing it would be to rip their clothes. But God didn't want just an outward show, he wanted sincere repentance, "[Rip] your heart and not your garments."

And Joel gave them a good reason to do it: "Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity. Who knows? He may turn and have pity and leave behind a blessing—grain offerings and drink offerings for the Lord your God."

Who knows if God would still carry out the consequences of their sin if they would repent of it? He may have pity. He may restore their economy. He may give them enough to bring their offerings of thanks to him again. But, of course, even if he let the consequence remain, there was still forgiveness to be had, if they would repent before it was too late.

So Joel called for a special service. "Blow the trumpet in Zion, declare a holy fast, call a sacred assembly. Gather the people, consecrate the assembly…" This trumpet, by the way, wasn't a battle horn, but the shofar, that trumpet that signaled the start of worship. We might say, "Sound the church bells!" Get everyone together for a public service of confession and prayer.

And did you notice who Joel called to repent? No one was excluded. "Bring together the elders, gather the children, those nursing at the breast. Let the bridegroom leave his room and the bride her chamber. 17 Let the priests, who minister before the Lord, weep between the temple porch and the altar."

The elders and the children (and implied is everyone in between) should repent of their sins. Even babies—infants still nursing at mom's breast were called to repent! This was the most important thing to be doing right now, even if you just got married. So skip the honeymoon and get to church!

And finally, notice the plea Joel told the priests to use as they appealed to God: Let them say, "Spare your people, O Lord. Do not make your inheritance an object of scorn, a byword among the nations. Why should they say among the peoples, 'Where is their God?'" As the priests stood between God and his people as mediators between the two parties, they were to appeal to God not on the basis of their behavior or their promise to amend their sinful ways, but on the basis of who he was and what he had promised for his people.

And of course, you know the results: God would hear. God would relent. He would change his mind about the punishment he threatened to inflict on his stubborn and rebellious people. He would forgive their sin. "Then the Lord will be jealous for his land and take pity on his people." Like a spouse, God was jealous for his people. He wanted their love. And when they turned back to him, he would turn back to them and welcome them back into his arms.

And he not only forgave them their sin, but took away the consequence: He drove that northern army—whether of locusts or Assyrians—far away. He drowned them in the sea so the stench of their carcasses rose into the sky. And he even restored their economy: "The Lord will reply to them: "I am sending you grain, new wine and oil, enough to satisfy you fully; never again will I make you an object of scorn to the nations." 

And here's the key point: God delivered his people in his grace, when they cried out to him in true repentance.

 

The lesson for us is obvious, isn't it? Don't cover up your sin. Don't try to hide it. Don't ignore it. It won't work! But instead confess it. Confess it to God and turn to him. And you know we have plenty to confess. We have turned away from God just like those Israelites. We have forgotten him as we pursued other interests—work at the expense of worship, hobbies at the expense of offerings, being entertained by the TV at the expense of being edified by the Word. And if we're going through some economic stress, some physical ailment, some relational pain right now, maybe God is trying to use these troubles to call us back to him.

We may not be threatened with starvation or imminent death right now, but… then again, who but God knows on what day each of us might die? So now is the time to get right with God, not tomorrow! "Even now," declares the Lord, "return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning."  

Turn from your sin. Turn from it with true repentance, not just going through the motions. Not just mouthing those memorized words of the liturgy, but meaning it sincerely when you say, "I confess that I am by nature sinful, and that I have disobeyed you in my thoughts, words, and actions. I have done what is evil and failed to do what is good. For this I deserve your punishment both now and in eternity. But I am truly sorry for my sins…" Spend some time reflecting on your sin and confessing it to God. That's how we, "Rend [our] heart[s] and not [just] [our] garments."

 

Yes, turn from your sin. But don't stop there. Turn to the Lord. Return to him in trust. You know who God is: "The Lord your God… is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity." And you know that you have no need to appeal to your behavior or your promises of an amended life. Instead you can appeal to God's reputation and his promises to you. He is jealous for you—head over heals, crazy in love with you! And he still takes pity on his people.

The proof? At the cross. We don't need to base our appeal on our behavior or our promises of an amended life because we have a mediator that did a much better job than any Old Testament priest. Our Savior, Jesus, saw his wouned people and not only grieved over our sin and wept at the consequences they incurred, but he did something about it. He put himself between God and his wrath and us. And he was wounded in the worst of ways to rescue us from the eternal death sentence we all earned for ourselves. "But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed." (Isaiah 53:5)

 

"Who knows [if]… he may turn and have pity and leave behind a blessing[?]" We do. Because we have his promises. "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness." (1 John 1:9) He has had pity on us and has left behind his blessings of forgiveness, of peace with God, of the certain expectation of eternal bliss with him in heaven.

So even if the consequences of our sin linger in this life, we know that they will not follow us in the life to come. Even if we have to face our own locusts—our economic struggles, our health issues, our broken relationships—as consequences of our sin, nevertheless, we are free from the eternal consequence of hell. And so often, God even removes the temporal consequences, giving us grace upon grace!

So don't just mouth the memorized words of the liturgy, but believe these words too: "Trusting in my Savior Jesus Christ, I pray: Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner." And trust the words of the absolution: That all your sins are forgiven "in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."

So this Lent, feel free to give something up if you want to. Just make sure it's sincere and for the right reason, as a devotional tool, not just a hollow custom. Better still, instead of giving something up, take something up. Take up a devotion book. Take up your Bible. Take up a commitment to be here in worship every week. Definitely turn away from your sin. And confess it to God in sincere repentance. But, please, don't stop there. Don't just turn away from something. Turn to someone. Return to the Lord! And find the comfort he longs to give you. "For he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity…"

And then, as you bask in his forgiveness, bring your abundant offerings of thanks to him from the many blessings he's left to you. Go and live for him who lived and died for you. In Jesus' name, dear friends, return to the Lord! Amen.


In Him,
Pastor Rob Guenther

Grace Evangelical Lutheran Church
47585 Ciechanski Road, Kenai, AK 99611

Listen to sermons online: www.GraceLutheranKenai.com/Podcast
Watch services online: www.GraceLutheranKenai.com/Webcast

Have you been blessed by our ministry at Grace? Consider supporting us with your generous gifts. Give securely online with a check or credit or debit card here: www.GraceLutheranKenai.com/Give

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This Man Went Home Justified (A sermon based on Luke 18:9-14)

"Thank you, God, that I'm not like that person!" That's how the Pharisee in Jesus' parable "prayed" about himself. He thought he had no need for forgiveness because he was so well behaved. Ironically, as well behaved as he was he wasn't justified before God. The tax collector, on the other hand, was the worst! He was a cheat, a liar, a thief, and a traitor. But ironically, as horrible as he was, this man went home justified before God. What was the difference? The latter recognized his sin, confessed it to God, and turned to him for help. May we do the same. Read or listen to (download) this sermon based on Luke 18:9-14 and rejoice that you can go home justified...

This Man Went Home Justified

A sermon based on Luke 18:9-14

Wednesday, March 1, 2017 – Ash Wednesday

 

"Isn't it ironic?" Irony is that shocking, sometimes humorous, result when you see the opposite of what you would naturally expect. Apologetics is a defense of the Christian faith. But ironically "apologize" means to say you're sorry for something and not defend your actions.

Likewise, the word "justify" usually means to make your actions seem right. And that usually involves giving excuses. "It wasn't my fault. He started it. Shouldn't I have behaved that way under those circumstances?" But ironically, the Biblical concept of justification is the opposite: Making no excuses at all and owning up to your sin. Then God justifies and declares one to be right.

Tonight we hear the ironic story of two men: One was morally upright, a good, honest citizen, but who, ironically, was not justified or right in his actions. The other, was a cheater, a liar, a traitor, and a thief. And ironically, he was the one who went home justified or right in his actions.

This familiar parable is found in Luke 18:9-14…

 

9 To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: 10 "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: 'God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.'

13 "But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, 'God, have mercy on me, a sinner.'

14 "I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted."

 

This is really a tale of two men. The first was a man who sincerely tried to follow God's laws. Ironically the word "Pharisee" is almost synonymous with "hypocrite." But that's not what it meant back then. When you heard "Pharisee" you thought "good guy." In fact, the apostle Paul was a Pharisee at one point and was very proud of that label.

You see, the Pharisees (unlike the Sadducees) believed that the Word of God was just that. It was divine. It was true. And it was meant to be taken seriously. And a Pharisee did all that he could to keep it, even going above and beyond to make sure he kept the rules. If 800 steps were too many to take on the Sabbath, he would be sure to take no more than 700—just in case.

Maybe in today's terms Jesus would have used "pastor" or "church elder" instead of "Pharisee." The point is, these were people that most looked up to and admired as truly good people.

And this particular Pharisee went to the temple to pray. He addressed God to let him know all his good deeds (in case God missed any). And wanted it known that he wasn't a cheat or a liar. He didn't sleep around or ever have sex outside of marriage. He gave his offerings generously above and beyond the tithe, giving not just his money, but what he grew in the garden.

"God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get."

In today's terms we might say, he was a good church-goer, regular in attendance, a key giver, who didn't even have a traffic ticket on his record. This is a guy we'd want to have in our church, wouldn't we?

Well… ironically, he was the one who went home without being justified. Oh, he was justified before people all right. They thought he was just great! They aspired to be him. But… he wasn't justified before God.

Why not? Because he wasn't perfect. Sure, he was a great guy if he compared his behavior to others. But… if he compared himself to God and the holy standard he set forth in his law, he didn't measure up.

You see, God doesn't just ask for regular church attendance, generous offerings, and an outwardly moral and upright life to be right with him. No. God demands absolute perfection. So, ironically, those who want to earn God's love by what they do, must get rid of a whole lot of God's law. They pretend to be morally pure while ignoring the fact that lust is a sin as bad as adultery in God's sight. They pretend to be generous; ignoring the fact that greed is just as bad as theft. They pretend they're good and ignore the most dangerous sin of all… pride.

I say that pride is the most dangerous sin of all not because it's a worse sin than any other, but because it leads people to think that they don't really need Jesus; not that much. Pride was this man's downfall. Luther once asked, "How can God fill a cup that is already full?" What a sad and ironic end to this fictional Pharisee.

 

Now, I have a question for you and don't answer out loud, but do answer it to yourself and answer honestly: When you heard me read this parable tonight, did you think to yourself, "Thank you, God, that I'm not like that Pharisee."? Did you think, "Thank you, God, that I'm not that proud!"? How, ironic, isn't it, that we can be proud of how humble and repentant we are? How subtle this self-righteous attitude can be!

We're like the man who was given the award for being the most humble man on earth. But as soon as he received it, it was immediately taken away because he proudly accepted it. That's how subtle and sneaky pride is. It creeps in when we're not even aware. And it's that same subtle pride that has led millions to hell while they thanked God that they were so good.

 

But Jesus talked about a second man, who couldn't have been more different than the Pharisee. The tax collector wasn't nearly as good as the Pharisee. He didn't keep the law. He didn't even try. He was a liar, a cheater, and a traitor.

The way tax collection worked in that culture was that the Roman government (the enemy that was occupying their land!) took bids to see who could collect how much. They took the highest bid and that's what they would collect. Anything above that was "salary" for the collector. So the collectors would greatly inflate the figures. And if citizens wished to dispute the amount that they owed they would soon find themselves talking to the pointy end of a Roman sword or spear.

Even though IRS auditors may still not be popular today, maybe in today's terms "tax collector" would really be "drug lord" or "mafia boss"—someone who's getting rich by a trade that mercilessly hurts and kills others.

Of course, we'd expect Jesus to say, "Don't worry. He'll get his. He deserves the hell that's coming to him." But ironically, that's not what we hear in Jesus' parable. Ironically, the tax collector was much closer to God than the Pharisee because he recognized—and was ashamed of—his sin.  

"But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, 'God, have mercy on me, a sinner.'"

Luther once said, "How can God fill a cup that is full?" But he went on to say, "But the cup that's been emptied by God's law, God can and will fill up."

This tax collector knew that he deserved nothing good from God. He knew he was a terrible sinner and that he sinned not just against his nation as a traitor or his neighbors as a thief, but against God as a rebel against his holy law. He knew that there was no way that he could ever justify his actions. But he trusted that God could. And he trusted that would justify him, not with excuses, but with a sacrifice made in his place.

Friends, how ironic that, "this man, rather than the [Pharisee], went home justified before God," not because of his behavior, not because of how good he had been or promised to be moving forward, and not even because of his repentance. He went home justified because of God's grace given to him—the same grace that God has given to you and to me through his Son, Jesus.

So don't be like the proud Pharisee, friends, who thought he had little need for forgiveness. But follow this fictional tax collector's good example. Humble yourself before God. Admit that you deserve nothing good from him, even for all your attendance, offerings, and morals. All you deserve is hell.

But rejoice that he sent Jesus to pay for your sin—for your theft, for your evil, for your adultery… for your lust, and your greed, and your pride—yes even your pride, your self-righteousness, and your hypocrisy. You're forgiven of it all because Jesus humbled himself before God and before men. He took on flesh to be under his own law to keep it perfectly in your place. He took on flesh to suffer and die and endure hell in your place. And through him and through faith in him, you, sinner that you are, are justified before God—declared to be right in all that you've ever thought, said, or done.

Sir Isaac Newton, the great mathematician and physicist, invented the telescope, made huge advances in optics, mechanics, and the study of gravity, and is generally considered the most influential scientist of all times. You'd think he might be susceptible to pride. But when he was once asked what his greatest discovery was, he humbly answered, "I have made only two really important discoveries in my life: the one, I know that I am a very great sinner; the other, I know that Jesus is an even greater Savior."

Dear friends, those are the only two discoveries that really count in the end. May you learn from the ironic parable of Jesus both lessons. You are not pretty good. You are not better than most. You're not better than the drug lord or mafia boss. But you, like the Pharisee, like the tax collector, like Isaac Netwon, like all the rest of us are a very great sinner. So empty yourself of your pride. Then trust that Jesus is an even greater Savior, that he has taken all your sin away, and let him fill your empty cup wit his grace. In his name, dear friends, amen. 


In Him,
Pastor Rob Guenther

Grace Evangelical Lutheran Church
47585 Ciechanski Road, Kenai, AK 99611

Listen to sermons online: www.GraceLutheranKenai.com/Podcast
Watch services online: www.GraceLutheranKenai.com/Webcast

Have you been blessed by our ministry at Grace? Consider supporting us with your generous gifts. Give securely online with a check or credit or debit card here: www.GraceLutheranKenai.com/Give

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Sunday, March 5, 2017

pleased and happy

Greetings!

 

I'm so happy to tell you about a cool place I've been recently, you're going to enjoy it, just take a look open link

 

Warm regards, alzskadb

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