On All Saints’ Day, the Church remembers. She remembers those saints who have gone before, suffering persecution and even dying for the faith. She remembers those saints who have, by the grace of God, served the Church and world with lasting contributions. Her members usually remember those friends and loved ones who have now entered eternal rest.

But, what does it take to be a saint? A saint is one who is sanctified—made holy—one who has no sin. Therefore, if you are without sin, you are a saint, too.

What does it take to be a saint? In the Gospel lesson, Jesus recited the “Beatitudes,” qualities of those who are blessed to be saints. This is a passage of Scripture that stands out for many, and one that carries with it great joy and blessing. However, it is also one that is often twisted and misunderstood to lead to despair.

As an intro to treating this text, I offer this statistic by way of illustration. At one time, according to something I once read, 85% of all drivers in America considered themselves “above-average drivers.” Of course, this cannot be true—by definition, just under 50% of drivers are above average. However, this survey gives an insight into human nature: people generally view themselves as better than others. And, if they are better than others, then they are doing a good enough job.

This transfers over into religion far more than you may be aware, and it becomes apparent in how these Beatitudes are often taught. Often, one will hear, “The message of the Beatitudes is that, if I do these things well enough, then I will be happy. If I am good enough at these things, then I will be blessed.” It’s a human standard of measure: “If I am better at this than average, then I’m in good shape.” But does this work for sainthood? Well, take a look at the Beatitudes and see if you are good enough at keeping them. A short sampling should do the trick.

Jesus declares, “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” Indeed, the Scriptures make clear that the saints of God will enjoy eternal life with a new heaven and a new earth; and Jesus declares here that saints are meek.

Meek and humble are synonymous to a degree; in fact, many thesauri list them as synonyms. Being meek means putting others and their needs over and above your needs. Being humble means not drawing attention to yourself, especially when doing something for which you would otherwise receive recognition and praise. Most simply, they both mean to put others before self.

More directly, meekness is power under control. One who is meek uses his authority, position, and skills in service to others, not himself. So, are you meek enough? Do you use your authority, position, and skills in service to others? How about your resources, because they’re a part of this, too? Do you use them, particularly what may be considered excess—that which is more than what you need for yourself—in service to others? Do you put others before yourself?

I could go on and ask more and more questions about meekness, your meekness, but when such an examination goes on and on, the response of the sinful nature is, “Sure, I could be meeker, but I am meek enough to my satisfaction,” or, “I am comfortable with my level of meekness toward others.” But here is the thing: Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek.” He did not say, “Blessed are those who believe that they are meek enough.” When He calls for meekness, He calls for perfect meekness; it is not your measure that matters, but the measure of God. To believe that you are meek enough, according to God’s standards, is arrogance and pride—the very opposite of meekness!

Jesus declares, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” To hunger and thirst for righteousness is earnestly to desire the things of God—holiness, faith, purity, etc.; and those who hunger and thirst will seize every opportunity to be fed. If surveyed, people will give a variety of answers on what it means to hunger and thirst enough for righteousness. Some will propose that it is enough to attend worship on Christmas and Easter, while others will hold out for four times a year. Some will maintain that every-Sunday attendance indicates an earnest desire, while others will add mid-week services during Advent and Lent, or even the rest of the year. Well, can a hunger and thirst for righteousness be connected to something other than or in addition to worship—do you have daily devotions? Are they long enough? Do you attend a Bible Study? Do you devote enough time to personal Scripture-reading and prayer? Have you memorized enough portions of Scripture and the Catechism in your hunger and thirst for righteousness? Or more simply, are you a good person engaged in good works at all times and to all people?

Once again, the response of the Old Adam is to say, “I hunger and thirst for righteousness enough because I’m satisfied with my efforts.” Even—and here’s the kicker—“I’m comfortable with my hunger and thirst.” But Jesus does not say, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst by their standards.” He offers no qualifiers. To believe that your hunger and thirst for righteousness is enough is, again, a most unrighteous arrogance and pride.

One more ought to do it—or do you in. Jesus declares, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.” Once again, to see God is a privilege of the saints, who will see Him in glory for eternity. Of course, to be pure in heart, you have no thoughts of lust or covetousness, mischief or malice. You are perfectly satisfied with the things that you have, perfectly trusting when trials arise. You are not affected by prejudice, nor would you ever indulge in gossip or grudge-bearing. Now, I know of no one—Christian or non-Christian—who claims to have a heart that is absolutely pure; it’s impossible! That’s why the Old Adam comes up with this seductive line: “I’m only human, and I could be a lot dirtier than I am—and like some people are.” But listen once again to the Beatitude: “Blessed are the pure in heart,” says Jesus. He does not say, “Blessed are the purer in heart (you know, those who are just a little bit cleaner than all the others).” If you say or believe that you are pure in heart—or even pure enough in heart—you give proof enough that your hearts are far from pure.

Remember where I started with the Beatitudes, with the common teaching that, “If you do these things, then you will be blessed and happy,” and it is thought that this is all doable. This is a misleading teaching, because you must do these things perfectly, all the time, to earn the blessing and enjoy the happiness. Once you examine what these Beatitudes require, you are far more likely to cry out, “Enough of the Beatitudes! They promise blessings if I do them, but I cannot do them. Enough of the Beatitudes! They are more than I can do.”

And if that is what you cry out, then blessed are you. Blessed are you because, by the grace of God and the work of the Holy Spirit, you have made an honest confession of sin. You have examined yourself by the unflinching mirror of God’s holy Law, and you have concluded that you cannot live up to it. If it is up to you to be meek and merciful and pure, you are without hope. Amen. This is most certainly true. You now agree with the Law of God that you can do nothing to please Him or earn your salvation. You are now prepared to hear about the One who has saved you, who showers these blessings upon you.

So, woe to you if you believe that you can achieve holiness and sanctity by your keeping of these Beatitudes. If you believe that you have done enough in the way of meekness and mercy (and all of the rest) to earn God’s approval and become a saint, then you argue against Scripture—you make God to be a liar—and are headed for despair. Woe to the one who believes he does a “good enough” job of righteousness to please God.

And woe to anyone who preaches and teaches this Law to you in anything less than full strength. It is always an attractive temptation to proclaim these Beatitudes as if they are something within your power. It is tempting to urge you simply to be meek and humble, merciful and peaceful, promising that you will be happy if you do these things well enough. If that is what anyone tells you, then they have done you a grave disservice. For one thing, they teach you that you can—by your own reason and strength—do these things to God’s satisfaction. Far worse, if they teach you that you can do it, then they teach you that you do not need a Savior because you can save yourself. Woe to the one who preaches that you can fulfill the Law.

So, enough of the Beatitudes! At least, enough of this idea that you can become happy and blessed if you do these things well enough, for it will never be. No, God grant that, by faith, you agree with His Law and make this blessed confession: “I, a poor miserable sinner justly deserve thy temporal and eternal punishment.” Such a confession means that you’re ready to hear of the One who has done enough.

Though you cannot fulfill the requirements of these Beatitudes, they are, by no means, to be shunned. For one thing, you need to know of your sin. For another, these Beatitudes give you the opportunity to rejoice in your Savior, Jesus Christ. He has kept these Beatitudes perfectly. What’s more, He has kept them perfectly for you. Listen, marvel, and rejoice.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,” says Jesus. No one has been poor enough in spirit, except Him. Marvel at this godly, unending humility during the Savior’s journey from conception to cross. Had He demanded that He sit on a throne and be served, hand and foot, by all, He would only have asked for what He deserved. But, He did not come to be served but to serve—and to give His life as a ransom for many. (cf. Matthew 20:28) Humbly, the almighty Son of God served those around Him. He healed the sick, fed the hungry, taught the sinner, forgave the penitent, raised the dead. He did not practice pride and demand service. He served, even to the point of death on the cross. He was poor in spirit enough that you might have the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Jesus mourned—not just the death of a loved one like Lazarus, but the killing sinfulness of man. He mourned for Jerusalem, that her inhabitants would not repent. (cf. Matthew 23:37) Furthermore, He paid the price for sin on the cross—that your mourning might be turned to dancing. (cf. Psalm 30:11) Jesus did more than mourn—He saved you from eternal mourning. He mourned, that you might be comforted.

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” Remember, meekness is power under control, used in service to others. Jesus did not use His omnipotent power for His own profit, but in service to others—He cured diseases, multiplied bread and fish, and cast out demons. When beaten and spat upon by sinners, He did not wipe them out with a word; meekly, the all-powerful Son of God allowed Himself to be crucified. He has been meek, so that you might be delivered to the new heaven and the new earth.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.” Remember the Temptation of Christ, for in the wilderness Jesus suffered hunger rather than listen to the devil’s temptations and turn stones into bread. He hungered enough for your righteousness there, that you might be filled with forgiveness. Remember the words from His parched lips near death: “I thirst.” He has thirsted and died on that cross, that you might be filled!

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.” To be merciful is not to give an evildoer what he deserves. Again, the Lord Jesus did not destroy those who arrested Him, blasphemed Him, mocked, and crucified Him. He could have; He could have come down from the cross, saved Himself, and destroyed them utterly. Instead of giving them what they deserved, He spared them and died for them, to give sinners what they do not deserve: forgiveness. Instead of condemning you, He forgives you. He has been merciful, so that He might give mercy to you forever.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Of Jesus, Hebrews 4:15 declares, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.” Jesus was perfectly pure in heart—and why? Hebrews 4:16 says that because He was without sin, you can go before His throne of grace with confidence. Jesus has been pure in heart, so that you might see God in glory forever.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.” The Lord Jesus Christ made peace. He made peace between man and God by breaking down the wall of separation between the two, by removing the sin that kept him from God’s presence. He has made peace, so that you are sons of God and heirs of heaven.

And who has been persecuted more for righteousness’ sake that Jesus Himself? Who has been reviled and persecuted and spoken evil of more falsely than Jesus? He has done these things enough, and so His is the kingdom of heaven. But, once again, He has done these things for you. He shares His victory over sin and death with you, and so yours is the kingdom of heaven.

Do you see? When you see what you have to do to fulfill the Beatitudes, you should see that you cannot do it—not even close. “Enough of the Beatitudes! We cannot do them.” Looking at them through the lens of the Law, they only show you how deep and dark your sin is—how terrible your failures are. But look what happens when you look at the Beatitudes and Christ: now you see your salvation! He has fulfilled the Beatitudes—He has done these things perfectly, and He has done them for you. The great exchange has taken place: Christ Jesus has taken away your sins at the cross—He has suffered God’s wrath for your failures to be poor in spirit, meek, merciful, and all the rest. But in taking away your sins, He has not left you with nothing; instead, He has given you the credit for His obedience—for His keeping of the Beatitudes. Because He has done so, God the Father looks upon you and says, “I see no sin in you, because My Son has taken it all away. Now, for His sake, when I look at you, I see one who is poor in spirit, mournful, and meek, earnest for righteousness—holy! Yours is the kingdom of heaven.”

How odd it may seem at first: You do not become holy because of how well you fulfill the Beatitudes. Rather, you are made holy because, because by grace, the work of having fulfilled them is imputed to you, given to you, made yours through Jesus Christ and for His sake. Furthermore, by the work of the Spirit, you confess that you cannot keep them as you ought, and if you confess your sins, He is faithful and just to forgive your sins and cleanse you from all unrighteousness. (cf. 1 John 1:9) This is why the life of the Christian is one of continual repentance—confessing your sins and rejoicing that Jesus has done what you could not do, and has done it for you!

What does it take to be a saint? You need to be without sin. And so you are—not by your work, for it is never enough, but by the atoning sacrifice of Jesus. He has done the work and paid the price to make you holy. Therefore, dear hearers in Christ, blessed are you, His saints, because you are forgiven for all of your sins!

“Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin.”

Jesus used a very weighty word to describe the state of man’s corruption, not just for his time, but even today: “slave.” When Jesus used that word as He spoke to the Jews who had believed in Him, it did more than just catch their attention; alarm bells were likely going off in His hearer’s heads, putting them on the defensive. Hence their reaction in the text!

Given this country’s history with slavery, you are most familiar with the concept of chattel slavery. These kinds of slaves were considered less-than-human property. People, though they were considered anything but, were owned by other people, documented and registered and taxed under certain property tax codes. Unfortunately, even though the concept and practice of chattel slavery have been around since the 16th century, for most Americans, it influences the understanding of more historic practices of slavery, even other forms of slavery in use to this day! It should come as no shock that the words “slave” and “slavery” still carry as much weight and bad baggage today as they do; the history may not be the most recent, but it’s recent enough to cause consternation in people.

As I mentioned, there are still people today who are not justly compensated for the work they do in one form of slavery or another. There are those who call child labor in less developed and less sensitive parts of the world a form of slavery, even as it was used in the past. The kind of slavery you most often read about in the Bible, which is in practice in some places today, is not the same as the chattel slavery of this country’s past; in this case, to have called someone “my slave” would not have indicated ownership of another person, but that another person was indentured to serve them—in many cases, these slaves gave themselves over willingly to this service as a means of being cared for themselves, because slaves had to be respected and cared for. From conquered peoples to self-indentured fellow countrymen, a slave in the ancient world was not less-than-human and in many cases, could work out or buy back their freedom.

As much as “slave” and “slavery” are weighty words, they are also economic words, dealing with possessions, income, and services in one form or another.

Jesus, as He so often did with these kinds of ideas, came along and turned that idea upside down. He said, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” The Jews who had believed in Him responded, “We are offspring of Abraham and have never been enslaved to anyone. How is it that you say, ‘You will become free’?” Into the concept of slavery as economics, Jesus thrusts a spiritual concept into the mix. Hear His words again and learn about slavery and freedom:

It has been said before—I know I have said it many, many times: If you can’t say, “No,” to something, then you are a slave to that thing. Something comes along that tempts you, and tempts you again, and tempts you again. As you are continually tempted, the pressure builds and the temptation becomes all the more attractive. You know what you are being tempted to do is a sin, so says the voice of conscience, but the more attractive and desirable the thing is, the easier it is to justify doing it, and to make excuses for doing it.

The thing is, no one is tempted toward sin only once. You know how it is. You’ve succumbed to a temptation, committed the crime, and before you know it, you’re being tempted again and again and again and again… And you sin again and again and again and again. One time has become two, two becomes three, and in short order that thing you were tempted to do only once has become a habit. You can’t say, “No,” to it; you have become a slave to it.

And here’s the thing with sin. No one sins only once who continues to live and breathe after committing the sin. So, since you sin—and sin repeatedly—the difficulty in saying, “No,” to sin should be apparent.

Jesus says, anyone who sins is a slave to sin. By holy inspiration, St. Paul wrote, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23) One more time: “All…have…sinned…” That “all” means everyone—all of you sitting here, the man standing up here in the pulpit, everyone—there is no difference, all are sinners alike.

There’s an old saying in political circles: “If you repeat a lie often enough, it becomes the truth.” Sometimes the thought is that if the truth is ignored, it will go way. It all sounds ludicrous, but that’s exactly what was going on with Jesus’ hearers. “We are offspring of Abraham and have never been enslaved to anyone. How is it that you say, ‘You will become free’?” It begs the question: how often had they repeated that lie? Were they ignoring their history with Egypt? Were they blind to the occupation of the Romans right in front of them?

It may be enough to make you wonder: Can I be that blind, ignorant, or ludicrous? Do you believe a lie to avoid the truth? I’m sorry to tell you, you certainly can, and you absolutely do.

It might be as simple as avoiding those who have wronged you, even if only slightly. It could be as complex as avoiding confrontation because you know—you just know—that confronting this person is going to get you nowhere and accomplish nothing, so you don’t even try. Or maybe it's something in between, such as not coming to church because you grow weary of hearing about being a sinner (and if that’s your concern, what you’re fixated on, all that you’re hearing, then I would encourage you to keep listening for the absolution, which is always there).

As for believing lies to avoid the truth, well, that happens every time you try to justify yourself for committing what you know to be sin. Instead of the serpent asking you, “Did God really say?” (cf. Genesis 3:1) you tell yourself that God didn’t say or didn’t mean it like that. You tell yourself the lie that God’s law really doesn’t condemn you for doing the thing you did, for saying the thing you said, for thinking the thought you thought, etc. And you repeat it, over and over again, to try to convince yourself that the lie is true and the truth is a lie.

These are all temptations, to be sure, and even if the intention may be good in some cases, the result never is, and you sin. If you can’t say, “No,” to something, then you are a slave to that thing.

It is this spiritual slavery that Christ had in mind when He said, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” “Abide” here means to continue in or hold fast to, much as the word “keep” does with regard to the commandments.

Speaking of those Ten Commandments, one can look to when they were given to address these descendants of Abraham. Having been slaves to the Egyptians, YHWH led them out of Egypt, and in the wilderness gave them the Ten Commandments. This slavery in Egypt was given to them as an object lesson, pointing to the greater slavery to sin. Therefore, when God gave the Ten Commandments, chiefly purposed to point out sin, He prefaced them thus: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.” This is a theme that runs throughout the Pentateuch, and it is repeated often: YHWH is their God; He brought them out of slavery.

There is one time that really stands out, though. In Deuteronomy, it is written:

A lie repeated often enough becomes the truth, right? “My power and the might of my hand have gotten me this wealth.” “We have never been enslaved to anyone.” Those were easy lies to tell themselves. While they were under the rule and occupation of the Romans, life was relatively peaceful. There were some Jewish slaves in Roman households, but many Jews also enjoyed Roman citizenship. It was easy for them to have denied the periods of slavery in their history at a time like that. “We are offspring of Abraham and have never been enslaved to anyone.” They denied their past, and in so doing, they had forgotten their God—they had sinned.

To this, Jesus said, “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin.”

As you live your lives in these latter days, there are lies that you can easily be led to believe are truth. Among them is the meaning of “God is love.” The world would have you believe that means that anything goes, that the Law is of no effect. You want to take things in ways that only seem right? God is love. You want to lie in bed with anyone who might please you, opposite sex or same? God is love. You want to rip babies from wombs? God is love. Those are the “big ones,” not to put too fine a term on it. In the church you might see these kinds of things blessed when, “Repent,” should be proclaimed. Some issues might be ignored when they should be dealt with. “God is love,” is taken to mean that you can bend without breaking, but if you can’t say, “No,” to something, you are a slave to that thing.

To you, Jesus says, “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin.”

Is there a way to break away from this slavery to sin? How? How does one say no to the sin which so easily entangles? On your own, there is no way. Left to your own devices, you will not.

But there is a Way! Return to the Word of God. In the Gospel this morning, Jesus says, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth…” The Word of God declares to you your fallen nature, proclaims to you what it is that you have forsaken. This is the Law of God and the truth it proclaims to you, even as you heard from the pen of St. Paul, “All have sinned…” No matter how much you may want to ignore or deny it, you are a sinner, and you have sinned. And sin deserves the wrath of God. This is the Law.

But, like I said, there is a Way! Left with only the Law, you would be left in utter despair. It was in this utter despair that the church on earth found itself in the days of Martin Luther. In very few places, the Gospel was hardly ever proclaimed to lost and hurting souls, and where it was, it was preached as some sort of unattainable goal, turning into another Law. So the people were left to work their hardest and give their last penny in order to appease the wrath of God for their sin, hoping against hope for a reduced stay in Purgatory.

Again, like I said, there is a Way! Out of this time of despair, God called Martin Luther who, being in despair himself, became a monk (a friar) against his father’s wishes, and started down a path that led him to discover the sweetness of the Gospel, the true Gospel—that Jesus is not a wrathful Law-bringer, but the fulfillment of the Law and the propitiation that brought peace with God over and against his sins and the sins of the whole world. His eyes were opened with verses such as these:

• “[B]ut God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God.” (Romans 5:8-9)
• “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I do not nullify the grace of God, for if justification were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose.” (Galatians 2:20-21)
• If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, [God] is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:8-9)
• “But now the righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the law, although the Law and the Prophets bear witness to it—the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. This was to show God’s righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins. It was to show his righteousness at the present time, so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.” (Romans 3:21-26)
• “The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners…” (1 Timothy 1:15)

That, dear hearers, is the truth. Jesus Christ is the way, the truth, and the life. He is the way free from slavery to sin, as He paid the redemption price with His shed blood. He is the truth, the truth of God’s grace over and against the sins committed by way of this fallen flesh. He is the life, the life eternal of all of those who believe in Him by way of His resurrection from the dead and ascension to the right hand of majesty.

You heard me use the word “redemption.” That is also an economic term, consistent in use with the word “slavery.” A slave, in and of himself, has no means to free himself, especially a slave under the practice of chattel slavery. Those bound in service to another in other forms of slavery were indentured until such time that they had served enough time or acquired enough money to purchase their freedom—that is redemption. In relation to slavery, redemption is buying freedom, and it always involves a price. Jesus is your redemption in that His blood pays the price to buy you back from the slavery to sin—a propitiation, in the case of Jesus’ blood.

This is the Gospel of the forgiveness of sins that you hear expressed in these passages:

• “In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight…” (Ephesians 1:7-8)
• “He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” (Colossians 1:13-14)
• “[Y]ou were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.” (1 Peter 1:18-19)

“The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” The Son has set you free, redeemed you from sin and death into His most marvelous life. Though you still struggle with your fallen flesh on this side of eternity, His love and blood covers your multitude of sins. You are free, free indeed, because you are forgiven for all of your sins.

The lesson today is one of my favorites, and I confess that I made that statement sarcastically. It’s not that I don’t appreciate what’s going on or that I don’t like what it has to say and wish to deny it. It’s a fantastic event in the life of Jesus, and one which bears full attention (are there any other kind?). But, as concerns my profession, it comes up twice in lectionary this year, which means there’s a good chance that I’ll preach on it twice. So, I best get to it.

Jesus heals the ten lepers on His way to Jerusalem passing through the region of Samaria. You know the lesson well enough, as you hear it every year on the National Day of Thanksgiving, appropriate for the day based on the one leper who, as he is being cleansed on his way to the priests, turns around and bows at the Great Physician and High Priest’s feet in thanksgiving.

Now, like I said, you know it well enough, but as is often the case with well known texts, you know it so well that you can easily lose the details of what happened. To direct you to those details, I invite you to take note of what Jesus did as well as what He didn’t do.

Jesus approached these men as He passed through Samaria. Lepers were supposed to stay at a distance from those not afflicted with the disease and shout to them to stay away because they were unclean. Certainly, you’ve heard pastor after pastor, teacher after teacher, say this. Well, these ten stayed at a distance from Jesus, but their shouts to Him indicated that they knew who He was: “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

“Y’shua,” they called Him. It was a common name at the time; probably about as common as the name Joshua is today, or even moreso; it is, after all, the Hebrew form of Joshua. It may have been common enough that had they just guessed that this Man’s name was Jesus, they had a good chance of getting it right. “YHWH Saves,” it means, for He will save His people from their sins. (cf. Matthew 1:21) This Man will save His people from their sins. And, there’s a good chance that word of what this Jesus did got to these lepers—that He cast out demons, raised the dead, and healed diseases. In any event, the lepers knew that this was not any other Y’shua, though, and didn’t just guess at His name, because they also called Him Master.

Y’shua, Master, is not any other Jesus or Joshua. This Jesus is the Master, God-in-the-flesh. Jesus is the Master over all creation—it was made through Him and by Him. In Him all creation lives and moves and has its being. (cf. Acts 17:28) The lepers were calling out to this Jesus, the Master, the Word of God, through and by whom all creation was called into being. He could have mercy on them. A simple word from Him by which all things were created, and they could be healed and restored.

And Jesus spoke that simple word. “Go and show yourselves to the priests.”

Off they went, all ten of them. There was only one reason why someone unclean would, with haste, make his way back into civilization and show himself to a priest. The priest would declare the unclean person clean, fit to rejoin society, healed, restored to the life he was forced to leave because of leprosy. Again, you have heard that many, many times before. Jesus didn’t tell them that they were healed; He told them to go to the priests, and on their way, He took their leprosy from them. He would take this wage of sin from them and be pierced with it to the cross, where He would die for their sins, and not theirs only, but for the sins of the world!

You might imagine their joy as they rushed off into the city. All that was taken from them when they received their leprosy would be returned to them. Who wouldn’t be ecstatic and seek to return to that as quickly as possible?

To put it bluntly, one of those ten, that’s who. Realizing that he was healed, he returned to Jesus, fell at His feet, and gave Him thanks. And this man was a Samaritan! The priests would still be there when he was done. His life would still be returned to him once he had thanked Jesus. But while He had the time and the knowledge of the presence of God-in-the-flesh in his midst, he was going to turn back and give Him thanks.

“Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner? Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.” Or, more literally translated, “Your faith has saved you,” Jesus told the man.

Now, while the nine lepers who didn’t return are often called ungrateful, you might want to reconsider calling them that. Luke didn’t say that they received healing without thanks. If nothing else, to put the best construction on the nine, they simply didn’t return to show their gratitude. It might be that they were ungrateful, or maybe they were grateful but never expressed it or did so after all the excitement of being cleansed had passed, or maybe they simply didn’t express any thanks at all (I mean, do you ever express your thanks for every single thing God has done and given to you?); the truth is, only God knows.

All Luke recorded is that they ran back into the city, presumably to do exactly what Jesus had told them to do. He didn’t write that they were thankful nor unthankful. Perhaps, having been cleansed and with having the thought of returning to their families and lives foremost in their minds, gratitude was not preeminently on their mind. While that’s hardly an excuse for their perceived ill behavior, Luke’s silence does at least allow these men to be painted in a more favorable light. Still, ingratitude, in any shape or form, is a symptom of the sinful condition that infects all men like leprosy—it is sin.

Presumably, the Samaritan now cleansed, and having thanked Jesus, showed himself to the priests and was returned to his former life. Luke doesn’t say one way or another, and his silence in this regard is telling. If the man had not gone to the priests as he was directed, it’s likely, I think, that Luke would have written as much; that would be a very important detail with some potential theological weight, but nothing I need to get into for the sake of this sermon.

The same can be said for the other nine. Presumably, they showed themselves to the priests and returned to their former lives. If anything different had happened to them, Luke probably would have written so. Again, his silence is telling; you are given no other option but to believe that the nine so-called ungrateful lepers were healed and restored to civilized life.

Therefore, you can only confess that this is what Jesus did: He healed all ten. All ten lepers were cleansed by Jesus, and by His cleansing were given a new lease on life!

Likewise, you can only confess that this is what Jesus didn’t do: He didn’t rescind His word for the nine that didn’t return to thank Him. He didn’t return their affliction to them.

Again, based on the whole corpus of the Scriptures, you can also only confess that Jesus took the leprosy of all ten—in fact the wages of sin of all men—and paid the full price for all sins on the cross on Golgotha. There, having been beaten and whipped and crowned with thorns, this now unclean Man was nailed to the cross and made the ultimate Sacrifice for the sins of the world. He suffered the full wrath of the Father in the place of sinful man and won for them His Father’s favor and grace and mercy, having died the death due each one. Therefore, for His own sake, this Great High Priest declares you clean, for He has done the work to make you clean—He makes you clean!

What can you learn from this? Well, let me repeat Luther’s explanation to the First Article of the Creed.

The Father has given you everything that you have. Even Luther’s enumeration pales in comparison to the gamut of God’s blessings to you—physical, temporal, emotional, spiritual, or however you would like to classify all that you have from the hand of God. You have everything—EVERYTHING—by the hand of God. Is there work that you do to obtain and maintain any of it? Sure, but it is all directed and given to you by the hand of God.

Furthermore, all that God has given you, you have regardless of any merit or worthiness in you. Whether God deems that you deserve something or not because of what you have done or left undone, because of who you are or how you are, He still gives you what you have—all that you need. Your merit or worthiness does not determine God’s grace and mercy to you. You are His child, His creation—in Him you live and move and have your being—and He gives to you out of His fatherly, divine goodness and mercy.

For all of this it is your duty to thank and praise, serve and obey Him. Any thanksgiving and praise you have for your heavenly Father comes to you by way of His grace and mercy. It flows and stems from what God has done to you and for you and on you. When you pray the Lord’s Prayer, you pray that He would lead you to realize that what you have is from Him so that you can rightly thank Him for it.

It follows, then, since what you have is from His hand regardless of worthiness or merit in you, that your receiving and continuing to receive from Him and your holding on to what He has given you is not determined by your thankfulness. God does not rescind His blessings because you failed to thank Him for them or even acknowledge Him as the giver of all good. No, “For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.” (Matthew 5:45b) Certainly, the evil and unjust would not thank God for the sun and rain, much less acknowledge that He sent either; yet He still gives these even to them, and much more.

This extends even to the Son. For God loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son. (cf. John 3:16) What can anyone say about themselves and their condition that God would love everyone so that He would send His Son as a propitiation for the sins of the world? (cf. 1 John 2:2) Nothing. I mean, if anyone here were in God’s place, you would be hard-pressed not to throw your hands up in disgust and forget about the whole creation. Thankfully, you are not in God’s place, and He didn’t just give up on you; God’s senses of justice and grace and mercy far outweighs yours. To that end, He loved you to death, the death of His Son!

Now, for the sake of His Son, Jesus Christ, the Father declares you clean. You have been washed in the blood of the Lamb, and your robes are as white as snow! Yes, you are reconciled! “[W]hen we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son...” (Romans 5:10a NKJV) You are like the lepers, who for the sake of Jesus, Master, were cleansed at His word—for it is by a word that you are cleansed: “I baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost” and “I forgive you your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.”

So, which of the ten lepers are you? Well, nine times out of ten, I would say you are a so-called ungrateful leper. Oh, it’s not always that you mean to be thankless toward Jesus for His Sacrifice on your behalf; thankfulness simply rarely comes to mind, even in a setting like this.

Perhaps that’s a result of the sinful nature’s reaction to the repetitious nature of the liturgy; week-in-and-week-out you come here and you hear of the forgiveness of your sins, and you sing your amens and thanksgivings, and it has all become so routine that you do it mindlessly. “Did I just thank God for His Son? It may have sounded like it, but did I really do it?” This is no excuse, but it does paint you as an ungrateful lot, and speaks volumes of the sinful condition which you carry with you by way of the Old Adam. Ingratitude toward God, intended or not, is sin. I mean, it is your duty to thank and praise, serve and obey God for His first article gifts; how much more for His second article gifts—the forgiveness, life, and salvation that is yours by way of the Son?

Thankfully, Jesus does not rescind His Baptism or Absolution for your ingratitude. Thankfully, Jesus does not make His body and blood of no effect for you, and especially not of ill effect, for your thanklessness. To do so would mean that your salvation depends on you and your thankfulness. On the contrary, your salvation is wholly and completely dependent on the Word of God. Jesus says a thing, and it is done. Jesus has come to forgive sins, and your ingratitude, even for His forgiveness, is among the sins He forgives—for He forgives all sins.

This is the Article on Justification from the Augsburg Confession:

You have justification and righteousness, forgiveness and salvation, for Christ’s sake, by Christ’s work, through Christ’s merits, because He has given you faith to believe it.

So, by His command, you were baptized in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost; you may not have uttered “Thank you, Jesus,” but your baptism is still valid. Now, daily as the baptized child of God, by contrition and repentance, that Old Adam drowns and a new man daily emerges to live before God in righteousness and purity because by His command, you are forgiven in the name of the Father and of the Son and of Holy Ghost. Of this you can be certain, for Jesus said, “If you forgive the sins of anyone, they are forgiven” (John 20:23a); for this, it doesn’t matter if you gave thanks to God or not. Therefore, having been made worthy by the blood of the Lamb, you are invited to receive your Savior’s body and blood—“Take, eat,” He says, and you eat the bread that is His body; “Take, drink,” He says, and you drink the wine that is His blood—and receiving Christ’s body and blood your faith is strengthened and you receive forgiveness, life, and salvation. Your receiving the gifts of God and their benefits does not depend on your thanking God for these gifts. Jesus tells you what a thing is for you, and that it is—He speaks His grace into you and onto you, and so you receive His grace!

All the same, it is your duty to thank and praise God for it all. Only by His grace are you even able to do so. Thank God for that!

God doesn’t give His Son to you for your sake, but for His. St. John wrote, “[Y]our sins are forgiven you for his name’s sake.” (1 John 2:12b) Therefore, ten times out of ten, you receive the benefits and merits of Jesus Christ your Savior for His Sake, in His merits, by His worthiness, through His Word; that is, the forgiveness of all of your sins.

YOU BROOD OF VIPERS! You go around claiming you keep the law and have Abraham as your father, but you act like children of the devil! You present yourselves as being righteous before God, yet you don’t even keep the commands and statutes of the Lord. You lift yourselves up as an example of righteous living, yet others can plainly see that you do not live in accordance with your own standards or those of God. REPENT! PRODUCE FRUIT IN KEEPING WITH REPENTANCE. (cf. Luke 3:7-8)

These are harsh words, to be sure; but they are no more harsh than what you heard in this morning’s Gospel. “Temptations to sin are sure to come, but woe to the one through whom they come! It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were cast into the sea than that he should cause one of these little ones to sin.” What could inspire such righteous anger in Jesus to utter such harsh words? Causing little ones to sin. What could cause little ones to sin? When you say one thing, presenting yourself as being righteous before God and lifting yourself up as an example of righteous living, but do something else.

Hypocrisy is deadly, judging by the curse Jesus pronounces. In fact, it’s doubly deadly. For the one person—the hypocrite—they say one thing and do another, they believe one way and act another. For the other person, it creates mixed feelings about the first, it leads them astray, it offends them and turns them off—they believe that all people in the first person’s camp are like the first, to the point that they want no part in what the first person is, even if what they profess to believe is the truth. In essence, two people suffer. Jesus is completely justified in His anger.

Jesus is, of course, referring to a believer, at least one who professes to be a believer or one who passes off their teaching or doctrine as the truth, who then would cause a little one to sin. Out of concern for the little one—the one of young or even no faith—it would seem that Jesus would prefer to eliminate the hypocrite who would influence the little one the wrong way, that He wants to spare one life where two could be lost. Or does he?

The great concern is that a Christian struggling with hypocrisy most does so if he does not repent when he is rebuked. Jesus said, “Pay attention to yourselves! If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him, and if he sins against you seven times in the day, and turns to you seven times, saying, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive him.” Repentance and forgiveness are the life of a Christian. A Christian, confronted with his sin, repents and is absolved from it; his sin is removed from him as far as the east is from the west, as the Psalmist writes. (Psalm 103:12)

Now, you know where this is going, I’m sure. This is a kind of hypocrisy all deal with. After all, who likes to be rebuked? So, when you are rebuked, how do you react most often? You make excuses, you deny it, you question the rebuke, but do you ever repent. And if you rebuke someone, how do you do it? Pointedly, accusingly, judgmentally…and if the one you rebuke repents, you don’t forgive them. If anything, you might say, “It’s okay,” but deep down, you hold their repentance over them as something you can store in your back pocket and use against them sometime in the future.

Yes, you struggle with hypocrisy. So does the man in the pulpit. So everyone else beyond these walls compares how you act to what you say, and, well…”such lies; why would I want to be a part of that?” This reflects poorly on Christ, the author and perfecter of your faith. Does He really want to eliminate you in order to spare the one life? The fact that no one here has a millstone tied around their neck would indicate otherwise; the fact that you are still here to be rebuked, to rebuke, to repent and be absolved certainly indicates otherwise. Jesus would rather spare both lives; He would like to keep the little ones from sinning AND keep the rest from causing the little ones to sin.

Still, to be a Christian is to be like Christ, Who gave of Himself for others. But are you like Christ? No…certainly not always. You are, in fact, Christians in word, but not always in deed. You tell others that you are members of a church, you might even wear crosses or crucifixes, or even shirts with Bible passages on them, but you do things that are contrary to your confession of faith. Case in point, a joke I once read, which is, admittedly, a little over the top:

It’s a funny story, but sadly, it illustrates the point perfectly.

That’s not even the half of it. A problem plaguing many congregations today (and for as long as believers have gathered together) is when someone may say, “Yeah, I’m a Christian, but I don’t attend a church.” Well, isn’t going to church what a Christian does? People know what Christians do more than you might think they do. What does the non-believer or the one of little faith think when they know one claims to be Christian, but prefers to stay in bed on Sunday morning, or simply doesn’t attend the gathering of the saints?

Recall, now, that Jesus would prefer not to toss anyone into a lake with a stone around their neck. “The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost,” (1 Timothy 1:15a) and there is no end to the debate over who is actually the worst. He came into the world to save even those who struggle with hypocrisy. Just as with every other sin, Jesus died having lived a perfect life, doing what He said and saying what He did, to forgive sins—who struggle with hypocrisy or coveting or theft or murdering or adultery and every other sin.

In Baptism, you have been claimed as a son of God and coheir with Christ of eternal life. In being claimed as a son of God, you have been given faith, a faith by which you can say, “Jesus is Lord”; a faith by which you can say, “Have mercy on me, a sinner,” when confronted with your sin.

Forgiven, your cry and prayer is and continues to be like that of the apostles in today’s lesson: “Increase our faith.” Dear hearers, He answers that prayer each and every day as He comes to you in Word and Sacrament to forgive your sins. Even today, He gives you His body and blood hidden in bread and wine for the strengthening, the increase, of your faith.

And here’s your comfort, dear Christians struggling with hypocrisy, Jesus tells you that with faith like a mustard seed, you can tell a mulberry tree to be uprooted and replant itself in the sea. So, why are the oceans not full of mulberry trees? Well, I’ll get to that.

Let me begin by saying that you should not get caught up in the size of the seed, as if you ought to compare your faith to that. You should note that Jesus did not say, “…faith as small as a mustard seed…,” in today’s text, though that’s how it’s often heard; what He said was, “… faith like a mustard seed…” So, Jesus is not telling you that a small or little faith can make you do impossible things. On the contrary, Jesus often rebuked people, especially His disciples, for having a small or little faith. (cf. Matthew 6:30, 8:26, 14:31, 16:8, 17:20) No, faith like a mustard seed can make you do impossible things.

So, just what is it about the mustard seed? Elsewhere, Jesus told a parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is larger than all the garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.” (Matthew 13:31-32) Jesus used a bit of Rabbinical hyperbole here to illustrate a point. While small, a mustard seed actually isn’t the smallest seed in the world. While most mustard plants aren’t some grand trees or bushes in which birds can grow, they all grow into large plants in comparison to the size of the seeds. And that’s the point! A mustard seed doesn’t just remain a seed, but grows into a plant that you wouldn’t expect from such an otherwise insignificant seed. In fact, mustard doesn’t only grow big over the ground, as Jesus described, but under it, too, with a deep taproot.

That’s what faith is supposed to be. It is planted in you like a seed, which sprouts and grows, rooted deep in the Word of God, growing beyond what might be expected compared to what was planted. It is an amazing thing, bound to produce good fruit—that is, good works—in abundance, in over abundance, on the scale of telling a mulberry tree to replant itself in the ocean, or telling a mountain to move from one place to another. That’s the hyperbole, and why there aren’t oceans filled with mulberry trees. And this is the point of the hyperbole: your faith should not remain little or small, which is rebuked, but sprout and grow, and by God’s providence it does just that!

Faith like a mustard seed can only do great things because of its object. Being rooted deep in the Word of God makes for a faith that does amazing things, on impossible levels, such as saying, “Jesus is Lord,” or, as Jesus continued in today’s Gospel, “We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.” This faith takes hold of Jesus, its object, and takes Him captive to His promises, so that by this faith you repent of your sins, and by this faith you receive forgiveness. That is the life of a Christian: repentance and receiving absolution. When you have done this, you have done your duty—and this only by God-given faith like a mustard seed—and what an amazing, mustard-seed-to-mustard-plant-like duty it is! It is the power to overcome in the struggle against hypocrisy.

That is the mountain that is moved with faith like a mustard seed, the mulberry bush that is uprooted and planted in the sea: overcoming in this struggle against hypocrisy. With faith like a mustard seed, you can say, “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.” (cf. Mark 9:24) With faith like a mustard seed, you can repent of your sin, even when rebuked, and receive absolution. All of this God gives you for the sake of His Son, who was crucified for your transgressions and risen again to give you life. Of all the things, that is what your mustard-seed-faith clings to most; that is the object of your faith: Christ and Him crucified. For Christ’s sake, repentance is free and absolution is free!

Therefore, you brood of vipers. Jesus loves you. You say you have Abraham as your father. By God’s grace, you do. You present yourselves as being righteous before God. By Jesus’ sacrifice, you are. You lift yourselves up as an example of righteous living. By the Spirit’s leading, you are free to do so, because you have been given faith like a mustard seed, and so you are forgiven for all of your sins.

War arose in heaven.

Despite my comments last week, it seems unfathomable. The place where the Holy God reigns and controls all things is the place thought of to be peaceful, ordered by Him whom the Scriptures call the Prince of peace. (cf. Isaiah 9:6) Nevertheless, war arose out in heaven. The Apostle John was permitted a glimpse of this heavenly battle:

War arose in heaven. Michael and his angels fought Satan and his angels, and Michael prevailed. Satan was cast out; no longer was there a place for him in heaven. And the heavens and all who dwell in them rejoice.

The good guys won the war in heaven; there should be no doubt that that was the expected outcome. All the same, it’s not all good news. Heaven has been sanctified, and that’s good. The devil has been thrown out, and that’s good. War has been waged and Michael and the heavenly angels have conquered for Christ’s sake, and that is very good. But the war and the battling has spilled out. Now, the devil is just here—he’s consolidated and focused on harming those on earth. It is worse now in these last days because of this. (paragraph based on a fellow pastor’s sermon)

Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour. (cf. 1 Peter 5:8) He has been cast out of heaven, and he’s angry. In his wrath, he causes you to suffer on this side of eternity.

• So, you suffer in your flesh, afflicted by his wrath and your old, sinful nature. These work against you to remind you that you are mortal, that you are dust and to dust you shall return. (cf. Genesis 3:19) And so, you suffer maladies and illnesses, cancers and injuries. You get bruised and bloodied. You’re dying. Satan is angry.
• So, you suffer in this world, afflicted by his wrath and your old, sinful nature. These work against you to show you that your brother does not love you, and you do not love your brother. Hatred, envy, strife, malcontent are just a few of the words that can be used. And so, you suffer the wrath of your fellow man and cause them to suffer to the harm of your and their person, possessions, and reputations. Satan is angry.
• So, you suffer in the Church, afflicted by the devil’s wrath and your old, sinful nature. Yes, he is active along with your sinful nature in the Church Militant. These work against you to show you that, even among those who are your fellow saints, there is hatred, envy, strife, and malcontent. And so, you suffer the wrath of your fellow saints and cause them to suffer to the harm of your and their person, possessions, and reputation. Satan is angry.

Why is Satan angry? Dr. Louis Brighton commented that Satan has been expelled from the place he thinks is rightfully his. This, dear hearers, is good news for you. The war in heaven is also a war of words—“the words with which Satan accused God’s saints of their sins. With these words Satan claimed that he, not the Christ, truthfully represented the saints before God’s heavenly throne.” You can see this happening as Satan makes his way to the Divine Council in Job (cf. Job 1:6-11; 2:1-5) and Zechariah (cf. Zechariah 3:1-7), to accuse Job and Joshua the high priest.

Take these words seriously, folks, for the words the devil would speak, surprisingly, are true, at least to some degree. He would stand before your Father in heaven and accuse you of your sins and claim that for them, you deserve to die, which is true. Though, it’s not outside the realm of possibility that he would exaggerate and twist things to be worse than they are, whatever that might mean or look like. Nevertheless, if he does this in place of Christ, then you have no advocate, and surely would rightly die for your sins.

But Satan is angry because he was cast out of heaven by Michael and his angels. He no longer has a place in the heavenly council, but Jesus Christ is in his rightful place, pleading on your behalf on account of his death and resurrection. The accusations would still ring true, but they are rendered false by the victorious Lamb. Your sins are atoned for and covered by the blood of Jesus shed on the cross where He died as the propitiation for the world. As was heard in today’s reading,

Jesus was born to bring peace, a peace which the world cannot give, and through His death and resurrection, then, Jesus brings peace to heaven, and for you to be a part of that peace, His death and resurrection brought you peace with God.

That also helps to create some understanding as to when and most certainly how this war and casting down took place. The war was fought in eternity. Just before today’s reading, John wrote that the Child (that is Jesus Christ) was “caught up to God and His throne.” (Revelation 12:5) Then, the war broke out, and the serpent and his angels were cast out of heaven. This war is likely not the fall of Lucifer, as may be supposed, but his ultimate defeat as Jesus was crucified, died, rose, and ascended. Dr. Brighton wrote,

Jesus confirmed this, as was heard in today’s Gospel reading. When the 70 returned from preparing the way for Jesus, proclaiming the nearness of the kingdom of God wherever they went, Jesus tells them, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven.” Jesus’ statement also shows that it is His crucifixion and ascension and the proclamation of the same—that is the very Gospel of sins forgiven in the blood of the Lamb—is that which gives Michael the power to cast out Satan and his angels. Satan is cast out as the Gospel of the forgiveness of sins is proclaimed; and this, not only from pulpits around the world, but also as you tell your friends and neighbors the same!

But now, Satan is contained here, on earth, exacting His vengeance on God’s creation. The war continues. The battle has spilled out. “Woe to the inhabitants of the earth and the sea! For the devil has come down to you, having great wrath, because he knows that he has a short time.” But fear not, dear Baptized, for his wrath against you, while great, is short and futile. Remember, His accusations are false. While you have sinned, your sin is covered. You have been made righteous in the blood of the Lamb. You are baptized; you are in Jesus Christ, your advocate before the throne of God. Your names are written in the Lamb’s book of Life in heaven, inscribed on those sacred pages in His most precious blood! Now, because the blood of your Savior covers you, the Father looks at you and sees His Son and not the sinner. You are counted righteous because of what the Son has done for you; the accusations of the devil are false. Your salvation is secure!

It is secure because you have died already.

When the water was poured over you, included in God’s command and combined with God’s Word, you died. You were drowned there and put on Jesus Christ. Now, it is no longer you who live but Christ who lives in you. (cf. Galatians 2:20) And He who deigns to call you His Son has there written your name in the Lamb’s book of Life.

Therefore, you now set your mind on things above, knowing that they will be yours in short order. There, at the Divine Council is where Jesus Christ, flesh like your flesh, intercedes on your behalf, pleading His blood for your sins, as you battle Satan and his minions here below. In this battle, you wield not earthly things, but heavenly. As St. Paul wrote,

All of these things are given you from above for the sake of Jesus Christ and His work for you on the cross, in the grave, and now, seated at the right hand of Majesty—given to you by grace and the blood of the Lamb.

It is the blood of the Lamb, Jesus Christ—the victory over Satan in heaven—that purifies and preserves Christ’s Church on earth. It marks your doors. It is your proclamation, your eating and drinking, your rescue from this wicked and perverse generation. It is the opening of the doors to heaven for you.

Michael and his angels won the war in heaven by the blood of the Lamb. Jesus Christ crucified was their strength to overthrow and throw out the devil and his angels. Now, the battle is fought on earth, and the same blood of the Lamb is your strength, you who battle against them here and now. Jesus Christ crucified for you is your strength to overthrow the devil and his angels. It is not your doing, not your work, inasmuch as it was not Michael’s work that won the war in heaven. Just like the 72, the devil and all of his demons are subject to you in the name of Jesus. Jesus gives you the victory, in His name, because the war is won already for you.

The devil is judged already—scowl fiercely as he may. He can harm you none, because the deed is done. One little word can fell him—one little word has felled him: liar, because his accusations against you are false for the sake of Christ.

What I mean by that, dear hearers, is that the devil has been cast out of heaven. You, even though you are part of the Church Militant, have been placed in the Kingdom of heaven by way of Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection and your baptism into the same. His accusations against you are baseless on account of Jesus Christ. He’s judged already, condemned and expelled, and you are declared not guilty.

Then comes the Last Day. “When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” Jesus Christ will return as the saints in the young church saw Him victoriously ascend. On that great and dreadful day, finally and forever, the devil and his angels will be cast into the lake of fire (cf. Revelation 20:10; Jude 6), and you will appear with Him forever in glory.

For the time being, however, the devil wars against you in futility. In futility because you, dear Baptized, are covered in the blood of the Lamb. Rejoice, therefore, that your names are written in heaven. The devil in all of his wrath cannot harm you because of that. Therefore, since your names are written in heaven, you are forgiven for all of your sins.

To better understand this text, it might be helpful to understand it’s place in the grander scheme of St. Luke’s Gospel. This is the beginning of chapter 16, which naturally follows chapter 15. Chapter 15 is known, of course, for the three parables it contains: Lost Sheep, Lost Coin, and the so-called Prodigal Son. Jesus told these parables to the Pharisees to demonstrate the love of God and all of heaven for the lost, because the Pharisees scoffed at Jesus for receiving and eating with sinners and tax collectors.

The parable of the Prodigal Son presented Jesus with an opportunity to shift His focus. In that parable, as you know, Jesus told of a young man who essentially told his father to drop dead—he demanded his share of the inheritance, then ran off to a distant country and squandered it in wild living. The older son, faithful to the father, remained home and tended to what was left, and all of that was going to be his upon his father’s death. Conditions had grown bad where the younger son was, and he was left with nothing. Hopeless, he concocted a plan to return home to be a servant in his father’s house; when he got home, however, he was never able to follow through with the entire plan. His father ran out to him on the road, called out for a robe, sandals, and the family ring to be placed on his son, and called for a fattened calf to be prepared for a feast—his lost son had returned to him, and he was going to have a party, for “there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

Something was missing, though. The older son refused to join the party. Like the first time, the father ran out to him and urged him to join the festivities—his brother had returned! And that’s how the parables ended. Jesus didn’t say whether or not the older brother joined, probably because he wanted the Pharisees—the older brothers—to realize that they, too, could rejoice over repentant sinners and join them in the party to come.

From there, Jesus turned his attention to the disciples, and that’s where today’s text picks up. The Pharisees might have still been around. They would have been listening to what Jesus was telling His disciples if they weren’t fuming over or pondering what He had just told them. In turning His attention to the disciples, He shifted the focus from the coins or sheep or sons in the previous parables, to figures of the shepherd, the woman, and (most especially) the father. So, he told them the parable of the Unrighteous Steward, who is called a manager in this translation.

As is usually the case when the parables of Jesus are read, the natural inclination is to find oneself in the parable. “How does this parable relate to me?” is the question. It would make sense, given the previous three parables—in those, as a Christian, you would likely identify with the lost sheep, the lost coin, or the lost son over whom God, the angels, and all of heaven rejoice when they are found. Yes, you have been found in Christ, redeemed by His blood, and so at the time of your Baptism and every time you hear the words of absolution, these all rejoice over you.

So, when it comes to this parable, you likely, in some regard, identify with the unrighteous servant, though you might twinge at the idea of identifying with someone who remains being called unrighteous. You have been washed, cleaned, restored, renewed, forgiven, saved—you are declared righteous for the sake of Christ. How is it that Jesus would use someone called unrighteous to refer to you? Because the focus of this parable isn’t you, it isn’t the unrighteous servant, it’s the master. And by having told this parable, Jesus intended to get you to think more on the shepherd, the woman, and especially the father in the previous three parables.

So, focus on the shepherd, the woman, the father, and the master. What do these four have in common? They are merciful, and they are compelled by their mercy to act with overwhelming mercy toward the lost and unrighteous. The shepherd leaves the rest of his flock to search diligently for the lost sheep. The woman tears apart her house to look for her lost coin. The father runs with mercy to both sons and wants them both in the party. And the master…well, that will take a little more explaining.

So, the manager got word that he was about to be put out of his job—he was unrighteous as he has been mismanaging his master’s assets. He ought to die for this; the master was well within his rights to demand the manager’s life. Well, as it turns out, the manager realized just how merciful of a master he had, and he counted on the master acting in mercy toward him. The master was merciful—he was put out of the job, but he kept his life. But, there is more to the master’s mercy that the manager counted on. So, he went to his master’s debtors and reduced their debt. This, of course, would give the debtors a favorable view of the manager, though he would only have been a messenger of the master’s mercy in this case, and especially of the master—they would want to continue to do business with the master, which also serves the master’s interests, in the long run. The master was impressed with the manager’s actions, and praised him.

Therefore, if you want to identify with the unrighteous manager, then see in your God One who is merciful, much more so, like the master. Are you a perfect manager or steward of what your Master has given you? No, you are unrighteous in the things of your Father, and for that you ought to die—that is how the Law of God reads. Nevertheless, God is merciful, and He spares your life for the sake of His Son, Jesus Christ. He is more merciful, because He further grants you a place in paradise with Him eternally—as in the parable of the Prodigal Son, you have a place at the party, and as such, rejoice with all of heaven over every sinner who repents, be they your brother in Christ, or one who is becoming your brother in Christ.

And it is for this reason, then, that Jesus transitioned from the parable to instructions on wealth. It flows naturally from the parable, where the unrighteous manager made a prudent use of wealth—not his, though, mind you. So, Jesus said,

The manager was able to make friends for himself using wealth. Jesus called wealth unrighteous because it cannot save. That doesn’t mean it isn’t useful, as it is also a gift from God, but as with all gifts, there is this propensity among mankind to misuse and abuse that which He gives, and money is no different. Jesus said to use it wisely, make friends for yourself using it, that when it fails, you will have people who can return the favor. More than that, make use of it for the sake of the kingdom.

If you’re curious how that can look, Jesus said in Luke 12,

In short, use your money and possessions in service to God and His Christ, in the Kingdom of God on earth. Similar to the father in the previous parable, use what God has given you in service to your neighbor, with the intent that they can hear and believe the Gospel. I said that money cannot save, and that’s true, but it can be a means to bring someone to the place where they can be saved, and you just might be the person who uses it to that end, and so, “[M]ake friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous wealth, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings.” In other words, your wealth won’t last, but being with someone in eternity will.

That is the reason that God gives you what you have. You are faithful in this little bit to Him by using it for the purpose for which He has given it. “One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much, and one who is dishonest in a very little is also dishonest in much. If then you have not been faithful in the unrighteous wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches?” Hear it again. If then you have not been faithful in the unrighteous wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? It’s a valid question, and it should cause you to question just how faithful you have been in unrighteous wealth. Have you done what God expects of you with what God has given you? The only honest answer would have to be, “No.” Sure, sometimes you do, or in part you do, but that also means that sometimes you don’t and in part you don’t—which means that you don’t.

So, since you haven’t been faithful with what God has given you, should you expect him to entrust you with true riches?

What are those true riches? They are The Word of God, Holy Baptism, Holy Absolution, Holy Communion, Holy Absolution, Life, and Salvation. They are any and all of those other theologically loaded words, if you know what I mean.

If you can’t be faithful with the little riches that God gives, why should you expect Him to give you these true riches? And those little riches are also more than just wealth and money, but everything that He gives you. You can recite two lists from Luther’s Small Catechism, “He has given me my body and soul, eyes, ears, and all my members, my reason and all my senses, and still takes care of them. He also gives me clothing and shoes, food and drink, house and home, wife and children, land, animals, and all I have,” and, “[E]verything that has to do with the support and needs of the body, such as food, drink, clothing, shoes, house, home, land, animals, money, goods, a devout husband or wife, devout children, devout workers, devout and faithful rulers, good government, good weather, peace, health, self-control, good reputation, good friends, faithful neighbors, and the like.” Can you say that you’ve been faithful in each and every one of these gifts—and the like? Again, the only honest answer has to be, “No.” Sometimes you do, or in part you do, but that also means that sometimes you don’t and in part you don’t—which means that you don’t.

So, again, I ask, why should you expect God to give you true riches? If you have been listening to the parable, you would know that you should expect God to give you true riches because He is merciful; and more than merciful, He is gracious and faithful to His promises. He has given you the true wealth of faith in Him, trust in His Son and in no one else and nothing else for salvation. Sometimes, like with the manager, your job is demanded of you, or something similar or of similar value, but your life is not; that is to say, your eternal life. That’s because your life, eternal life, is won in Christ, whose life was given for yours on the cross.

By way of Baptism, you have been placed in Christ. There at the font, by the pouring of the water with the Word, you have been given faith. This faith takes God captive in His Word, as demonstrated by the Canaanite woman seeking healing for her demon-possessed daughter. (cf. Matthew 15:21-28) This faith holds to His promises, which is no big thing because God is faithful—He keeps His promises. By this faith, you can expect your merciful and gracious God to be merciful and gracious to you.

This is because God delights in showing you grace and mercy. He sent forth His Son—His only-begotten Son—to be man like you, and in being man, God took your place under the Father’s wrath, showing you mercy. Now, He sends the Spirit to bring you to faith, and to bring to you grace upon grace, to enable you to love and serve your neighbor, so that they and you can by faith hear and receive these words again and again: you are forgiven for all of your sins.

“This man receives sinners and eats with them,” His detractors cried. “This man, claiming to be holy, claiming to be sent from God in Heaven, claiming to be the Son of God, eats with the most vile and detestable and unholy lot on earth. How can one so holy deign to dwell among and associate with the unholy? It’s unheard of. It’s reprehensible. It’s sacrilegious.”

So, Jesus compares his listeners to shepherds. These detractors, these self-righteous lawyers, these scribes and pharisees are asked, “What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open country, and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it?” Jesus compared them to shepherds, once a highly respected position, which had become looked down upon as the “am-ha-arets,” the “people of the land”—the unclean and sinners. Furthermore, the shepherd has lost a sheep…how irresponsible.

On top of that, this shepherd left the 99 to find the lost one. He is so irresponsible to lose one and compounds that irresponsibility by leaving the herd to find a single wanderer. Is there such a thing as the needs of the one outweighing the needs of the many?

So, Jesus compared his listeners to a poor woman whose only monetary possession is 10 coins, the wages for 10 days work. “Or what woman, having ten silver coins, if she loses one coin, does not light a lamp and sweep the house and seek diligently until she finds it?” She was so poor, she had to be an old servant woman, another example of the “am-ha-arets,” the people of the land. And she was so careless to have lost a day’s wages.

On top of that, this careless woman compounded her carelessness by forgetting about the other nine day’s wages to find the one. Furthermore, when she finds it, she throws a party with her friends, probably spending more than a single day’s wages—the amount that was originally lost. Can there be so much joy over the recovery of something so small and insignificant?

Well, is there? Can there be?

Is there such a thing as the needs of the one outweighing the needs of the many? To answer that, I remind you of another time when Jesus was “accused” of unlawful association. He called Levi, St. Matthew, the tax collector to follow Him—to be His disciple. Levi invited Him over for dinner, and Jesus went and ate. The scribes and Pharisees asked, “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?” Jesus replied, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance.” (cf. Luke 5:2-32)

So, maybe Jesus was comparing the scribes and Pharisees to the 99 sheep. After all, the shepherd leaves them to go find the one needing to be brought back into the fold. And when the shepherd finds it, he puts it on his shoulders and carries it home where he calls together his friends and neighbors to rejoice with him. He does not return to the pasture, to the other 99 sheep. They are not mentioned again except in this context: “Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.”

In light of today’s Old Testament lesson, it would certainly seem the 99 sheep are representative of the scribes and Pharisees, the self-righteous and unrepentant. There, in Ezekiel 34, God says,

He will judge between sheep and sheep. He will discern between the 99 righteous sheep who need no repentance and the one who does. How? The prophet continued,

He will establish His own shepherd over them, One from the line of David, One Who will judge between the 99 and the one, and He will be the God of the one.

Now, it has often been said, and it is true, that there are no 99 people who are just and need no repentance. No, there is not even one. These 99 just people who need no repentance are 99 people who are just in their own sight and see no need in themselves to repent. They are self-righteous. These 99 sheep see no need for the shepherd; they can get along just fine without them. Likewise, 99 self-righteous people see, any self-righteous person sees, no need for the Good Shepherd—for a Savior—they believe they are good enough without Him.

These are not simply scribes and Pharisees. There are myriad people with myriad labels who justify themselves before the face of God, willfully and unwillfully. From among those who outright reject and deny the Savior, and even from among those who call themselves Christians. And I bet there everyone in here can find and have found one sin or another to justify rather than confess.

But, that one who wanders off, that sinner and tax collector, that member of the “am-ha-arets” who has no righteousness in himself and sees it—to this one does the Good Shepherd run after, and when He finds it, He places it on His shoulders and bears it home. There is an image of burden here, and one which you should not overlook. There is a price that the shepherd pays; the journey to find the lost one is a difficult one. It is costly for the shepherd to put the lost one one his shoulders and bear it home. K. Bailey, in Poet and Peasant, wrote on this subject, “In this theme of the burden of restoration there are clear Christological implications which point in the direction of the passion. The shepherd must carry on his shoulders the burden of the lost sheep, a detail that is specifically mentioned.”

What are those Christological implications? Simply this, to accomplish the restoration of the lost, the Good Shepherd, the Son of God, Jesus the Christ, came as man to suffer and die. He bore the burden of the lost on His shoulders as His arms were spread and bound to a wooden beam and nails were driven into His hands and feet. He hung, bleeding and dying, scourged, crowned with thorns, giving His life as a ransom for the lost. And of His last words before death He said, “It is done.” It is accomplished. Or, as St. Paul put it, “[W]hile we were still sinners, Christ died for us…while we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son.” (Romans 5:8b, 10a) You were reconciled to God, restored to a right relationship with God.

No longer is the reconciled one, the restored one an enemy of God. And, “if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.” (2 Corinthians 5:17) The reconciled one has peace with God through the Lord Jesus Christ. (cf. Romans 5:1)

Can there be so much joy over the recovery of something so small and insignificant? Absolutely. Straight from the lips of God walking in the flesh you hear, “Just so, I tell you, there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” God in His Son paid a price by bearing the full weight of sin and sins committed. So think of it this way: do you not rejoice when something you invested much time and money in is productive, when it does what it is supposed to do, works like it is supposed to, produces the desired the effect. Likewise, there is much rejoicing before the angels of God over one sinner who repents and receives the benefits of the price the Son of God paid: reconciliation and restoration. The difference is that the joy is not because the repentant in repentance somehow becomes worthy of the price paid for his restoration, but in that he has been restored! There is much joy in heaven over one sinner who repents because he has been reconciled and restored.

So, go back to what Jesus said in Levi’s house. “I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance.” Jesus has come as the Good Shepherd to call sinners to repentance. He comes with all mercy and grace, comes to show you your sin and be your Savior, calling for repentance and giving forgiveness.

The joy in what He said in Levi’s house is that when He calls sinners to repent, He gives the words with which to repent. Those who are not in self-righteous doubt which denies the need for repentance and a Savior then speak those words. Words such are found in today’s Psalm:

Or in Psalm 51:

Or in Psalm 86:

Or as simply as was spoken by the publican—that “am-ha-arets”—in the back of the temple, “God, be merciful to me a sinner.” (Luke 18:13)

So, when one speaks those words in repentance, there is much joy in heaven, because there are more words for the repentant. Words not for him to speak, but for him to hear from his called and ordained servant of the word: “I forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.” His sins are forgiven then and there as surely and certainly as they are in heaven, and there is much rejoicing in heaven, in the presence of the angels of God, over the forgiveness given this one.

And this rejoicing is not limited to those who call themselves Christians. Even scribes and Pharisees can repent and be absolved—even those who outright reject and deny the Savior, those who persecute Him. Case in point, one man named Saul, who was a Pharisee of highest order and training, who once wrote to a young pastor that which was read earlier and which you will again sing in a little while:

Saul was converted on the road to Damascus and received forgiveness from God through His servant Ananias, and there was much joy in heaven and rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God. So it is for all who repent and receive the forgiveness of sins.

That joy is also present in the Church Militant. For here, you are gathered by the Spirit of God, where you by God-given repentance confess your sins and receive forgiveness. And you rejoice to hear those words with a joy that culminates as you laud and magnify God’s glorious name with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven and take your place at the foretaste of the Feast of the Lamb which has no end. There most certainly is “joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” After all, the highest form of worship is to be in the presence of God to be given to.

So, you are invited. Come, the feast is ready; rejoice, because you are forgiven for all of your sins.

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life also, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” Those opening statements sound an awful lot like what you heard from Him three weeks ago, about not coming to bring peace but division, and while there are similar sentiments in these two accounts, today’s is for a different purpose…a different teaching.

With these words, Jesus implores you to count the cost. Counting the cost is always a good idea, as Jesus explained.

• If you’re going to build a tower, you’re going to count the cost. You figure what the materials and labor is going to cost and balance that against your budget in order to insure that you have enough to finish to job. Otherwise, you’ll be mocked as one who began a job you couldn’t finish.
• Or, going to war, a country’s leader also counts the cost. He consults his advisors to see if his forces can match the other forces, which outnumber him two-to-one. Is there some strategy that can be employed to give his outnumbered army an advantage? If no solution can be found before the battles begin, it’s best not to go to war rather than declare war foolishly in the face of insurmountable odds then send peace envoys seeking to surrender.

And having given those two examples, Jesus then said, “So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.”

You see, by this time, Jesus had developed a reputation among the common people in and around Judea. With that reputation, He had accumulated a large following. People joined this large throng of followers for one reason or another. However, a follower—or tag-along—does not a disciple make. Therefore Jesus turned to the crowd and announced, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life also, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple…any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.” To turn from simple follower to disciple, one must separate themselves from what was left behind, count it as loss for Jesus’ sake, forsake it to the point of hating it. It’s a heavy cross to bear, but that’s the cost of being a disciple. Count the cost, Jesus implored, count the cost.

Being a disciple is about love, at least in part. Love is a very costly thing. It’s like I tell those whom I am about to marry, “Love is sacrifice for another. Love is hard work; it is the work of serving another. The more one loves, the harder one works.” That is what love truly is, not some romantic notion invented by screen writers. Love is not about what one gets from another but about what one gives to another. It is forsaking everything for the sake of another. And so, in marriage, it is said that a husband and wife are to leave mother and father and be joined to each other, forsaking, in a sense, everything else that they knew for their spouse.

The cost of discipleship is the same. It is love for the Teacher and His teaching over and above all else, even to the point of hating everything else and forsaking it. It is sitting at the feet of the Teacher, listening to Him, learning from Him, trusting solely in Him, relying on Him, being given to from Him.

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life also, he cannot be my disciple.”

Those other things are not important when it comes to being a disciple. I could go down the First Commandment road here: “You shall have no other gods before me,” that is to say, “We should fear, love, and trust in God above all things.” And it’s true, and to a point, that’s what Jesus is saying. Being His disciple is fearing, loving, and trusting God above father and mother, above wife and children, above brothers and sisters, yes, even above one’s own life! I keep saying to a point because these all can be forsaken to a particular point because God in Christ has them all in His hands. He cares for these as He cares for His disciples—because He has died for it all. Well and good if father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters are disciples, too, but even if they are not, it does not impact one’s being a disciple because God cares for them, too.

And there’s another important point to make. Jesus is not imploring you to count the cost as empty words. He’s not giving this as advice that has no pertinence to Himself. After all, what is a tower to God? He can raise up and raze down a tower in the blink of an eye. What is the largest army of men to God? No strength of man can match His might. Who is He to tell you to count the cost?

Who are you to question that? Remember that love is very costly. God has considered the cost of love. Out of love for his fallen creation He sent His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law to redeem those under the Law, and the price for that redemption—the cost—was His own life and blood, given and spilled for the forgiveness of sins. As His Son was hanging on the cross dying, Jesus cried out, “’Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?’ which means, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’” (Mark 15:34) God the Father forsook His own Son as the cost of His love for the world, as He gave His Son as a ransom for His fallen creation, held captive to sin and the devil.

“And Jesus uttered a loud cry and breathed his last.” (Mark 15:37) No, one can’t say that the cost of love wasn’t considered by the Son, either. For one, He did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but humbled Himself by taking on the form of His own creation—the form of a man. (cf. Philippians 2:6-7) The Son left His own glory in Heaven, forsaking it, out of love for creation. His own life was the cost of gathering to Himself a spotless Bride, as St. Paul wrote in Ephesians 5:25-27. The Son left His Father and mother for the sake of His Bride, the church, and gave His life as Her ransom…as your ransom.

He came as man to die, but He is also true God, therefore death could not hold Him in the grave. Christ is risen, the firstfruits of a new creation, you could say. After all, that’s how St. Paul put it:

Even Jesus Christ Himself declared, “Behold, I am making all things new.” (Revelation 21:5)

So, if Jesus Christ has made all things new, then He has made fathers and mothers, wife and children, brothers and sisters new, yes, even your own life! So, while being a disciple may mean hating these things, forsaking them for Christ’s sake, it does not mean abandoning them. If, in Christ, you are called to the vocation of child, you do not abandon your mother or father, whether they believe or not, but you hold to your love of God over and above them; and in your love for God, you love them. If, in Christ, you are called to the vocation of husband or wife, father or mother, you do not abandon your spouse and children, whether they believe or not, but you hold to your love of God over and above them; and in your love for God, you love them. If, in Christ, you are called to the vocation of brother or sister, you do not abandon your siblings, whether they believe or not, but you hold to your love of God over and above them; and in your love for God, you love them. Yes, even your own life—as a disciple you are never asked to take your own life, but remaining faithful to God, remaining a disciple may mean that your life is taken from you. “Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life,” Jesus declared. (Revelation 2:10)

Thus, the disciple bears his own cross. Following Jesus, loving Him over and above all else, sitting at His feet, listening to Him, learning from Him, trusting solely in Him, relying on Him, being given to from Him—all of that is bearing the cross of discipleship. It’s an easy cross to bear, as Jesus stated, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:29-30) That’s the cross of discipleship, the light burden His disciples are called to bear—the burden of being given to and being forgiven in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

As a disciple, then, you are the salt of the earth. (cf. Matthew 5:13) “Salt is good, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored?”

How are you salt? When you bear your cross to the world.

• When, as a disciple of Christ, you live as one redeemed to father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and everyone else placed in your path, without regard to your own life, secure in the knowledge that God in Christ holds your life safely in His hands.
• When, as a disciple of Christ, you live as one redeemed by daily contrition and repentance drowning and killing the Old Adam in you with all sins and evil desires that a new man should daily emerge and arise by God’s grace to live before Him in righteousness and purity forever.
• When, as a disciple of Christ, you live as one redeemed by receiving Holy Absolution from your pastor as if from God Himself, not doubting, but firmly believing that by it, your sins are forgiven before God in heaven.
• When, as a disciple of Christ, you live as one redeemed by receiving the Sacrament of the Altar worthily, having faith in the words, “Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins,” for those words show you that in the Sacrament, forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation are given you through those same words. “For where there is forgiveness of sins, there is also life and salvation.”

What a joyful privilege and task you have as one redeemed to God in the blood of His Son, emboldened to do so by the power of the Spirit of God.

You are salt because you are a disciple. You are a disciple because you bear the cross. You bear the cross because you are forgiven for all of your sins.

“He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”

Dear redeemed of Christ, here is a topic of much importance to the Church. Jesus spoke of taking places of honor at a wedding feast. In his own way, He related this to the Great Wedding Feast—the Feast of Victory of the Lamb. So, when Jesus speaks of a wedding feast, you really have no option but to look at the Foretaste of the Feast to Come that He has given the Church to do in remembrance of Him. It is a matter of much importance to the Church because it is in this feast that Her members find their Life in Christ.

You may recall that Jesus once said that the gateway to life is narrow. (cf Matthew 7:14) There is only one gate, and it is too narrow, therefore, to enter carrying anything, like a sack of pet sins; it is too narrow to enter wearing your awards for meritorious service; it is too narrow to enter with shoulders broadened by the idea that, “I’ve done my best” (not that your best is ever good enough); it is too narrow to enter as a group—to say that you have entrance because you carry membership in a certain Christian congregation or belong to a certain family is ridiculous. The gate is wide enough for only one person at a time—a person who has been clothed with the righteousness of Christ. But the gate is nothing to be concerned about for the person who trusts in Christ. For if your entrance has already been won, then you have what’s on the other side of the door to look forward to—the Wedding Feast of the Lamb!

And for your short time on earth, you get a glimpse of that Feast in the Lord’s Supper. So, you hear these words from Jesus regarding the feast:

Jesus began his instructions in this section by speaking to those invited to the Wedding Feast. He spoke of bad table manners, referring to the particular attitude of the individual in attendance. It is haughty for one filled with pride and self-importance to wander into the house and right up to the place of importance at the table; it is sinful to go to the table as a guest and expect or demand or think that you deserve to be served. It may be that you have seen it happen, perhaps even had to do it yourself—someone in either their arrogance or ignorance has to be directed away from the head table because they should not be there. It is embarrassing and humiliating when someone is told to return to where they came from and sit down.

Such a person is the kind of person with broad shoulders who will never be able to enter through that narrow gate. Their view of themselves and others is dangerously turned in upon themselves. It is the same attitude that the sons of Zebedee had when they approached Jesus and asked for the places of honor in Jesus’ glory. (cf. Mark 10:35-37) It is the same attitude of all the disciples at the Last Supper—for when Jesus had told them that He was going to be betrayed, they wondered who would do this, then they disputed among themselves, arguing about which of them should be considered the greatest. (cf. Luke 22:23-24)

“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise.” (Psalm 51:17 KJV) If these are the actions of one with broad shoulders, then the attitude of a guest at the feast should be one of humility. The humble guest recognizes that it is by gracious invitation that he is at the table. The humble guest recognizes that it is only by that same invitation that he is even in the house—that he is through the narrow gate—that the host even wants him there! The humble guest is like the publican who entered the temple, stayed in the back, and kept his head bowed low and confessed, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” (Luke 18:13) The humble guest is like the woman who is satisfied, like a little dog, with the crumbs that fall from the master’s table. (cf. Matthew 15:26-27) The humble guest is the one who approaches the table, thankful that he even has a place there.

These are the proper table manners Jesus spoke in His instructions. “But when you are invited, go and sit in the lowest place, so that when your host comes he may say to you, ‘Friend, move up higher.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at table with you.” There is no deserving to be served; for if you received what you deserved, there would be no Christ, no Feast, no gate, and you would all be lost and without any hope. But by God’s gracious invitation, you are served the righteousness of Christ. So, you should approach the Lord’s Table, rejoicing in and thankful for what you are about to receive—that is, you take that lowest place—and you are filled with Christ and His merits, those magnificent crumbs from the Master’s table. You are made to be like him—you are made the righteousness of God in Christ Jesus (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:21)—you are honored in the presence of all your fellow guests and right along with them!

Take Christ’s example as your own. In response to the bickering of the disciples mentioned earlier, Christ said, “For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves.” (Luke 22:27) For whom is the highest place reserved? You should have no doubt, and be quick to answer “Christ,” of course, and the Scriptures confirm this. But the Scriptures also confirm that Jesus switched places. For in that same night when He was betrayed, Jesus took a bowl and towel and switched places by crawling on the floor like a servant and washing His disciples’ feet. He switched places with you, taking the punishment and death that you deserved. Hear it from St. Paul, who also speaks of the highest place Jesus ascended to:

Christ switched places with you, granting you pardon while taking the death you deserved on the cross, taking you out of the Kingdom of Darkness, and granting you entrance into the glorious Kingdom of His marvelous Light, His kingdom.

This is a matter of much importance to the Church. Jesus has given you a Foretaste of the Feast to Come; He has given you a means by which you receive Him and His righteousness. This feast, but a mirror of the feast beyond the narrow gate, is not for the Pharisee or the one who wallows in his own self-worth; this feast is closed to those who expect or demand to be served by Christ. The gate is too narrow for these with broad shoulders. This feast is for those who have been invited by the Lord—the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind; it is for the sinner who trusts in Jesus Christ’s saving word. This feast is for those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. This feast is for those who desire forgiveness for their sin.

Are you among them? If so, and you are, then this feast is for you. To you, Jesus Christ gives life…He gives forgiveness and salvation. To you, Christ opens the narrow gate—He is the narrow gate (cf. John 10:1-9)—and ushers you in where with the angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven, you will laud and magnify His glorious name, evermore praising Him, and eating at the Wedding Feast which has no end. Jesus is your narrow gate and your gatekeeper, granting you entrance through His meritorious death and resurrection for you, making you the righteousness of God in Him, forgoing you for all of your sins.

The man is in the wilderness. He has grown weary and tired from the chase. The day has grown long and the sun is beginning to set. There is no one and nothing else around, and he has no provisions for the night. In his weariness, however, he lays on the ground and falls asleep. For a pillow, he uses a stone.

Of course, with that last line, you know of whom I speak. Jacob, the youngest son of Isaac and Rebekah, the younger of the set of twins with Esau. Jacob was born clutching his brother’s heel. Esau was born first, and he was born covered in red hair, hence his name Esau, which means “hairy.” Jacob, ever in conflict with his brother and desiring what he had, was born with his hand on Esau’s heel, as if trying to trip him up coming out of the womb and gain the advantage for himself. Therefore, he was given the name Jacob, meaning “he cheats.” Esau won the race out of the womb and won the inheritance of his father by right—birthright. (cf. Genesis 25:19-26)

What a family, huh? “Meet my sons, hairy and cheater.”

Jacob wanted this birthright. Esau, who had been hunting in the field all day, returned exhausted. Jacob was cooking some lentil stew, and Esau, being exhausted and hungry, demanded some. “Sell me your birthright now,” Jacob said, in return for some stew. Seeing no use for his birthright as he was about to die (perhaps an exaggeration), Esau agreed and ate. “Thus Esau despised his birthright.” (cf. Genesis 25:29-34)

That wasn’t the end of it. Isaac had grown old and was losing his eyesight. It was time for him to bless his sons. Rebekah concocted a scheme by which Jacob would receive Esau’s blessing and birthright from their father. At his mother’s bidding, Jacob put on the fur of young goats in order to feel hairy when his father touched him and put on Esau’s clothes in order to smell like his older brother and trick Isaac. Rebekah prepared Isaac’s favorite meal, and Jacob brought it in to him, pretending to be Esau back from the hunt. Isaac blessed him:

As soon as Jacob received the blessing and left, Esau came in with his prepared game and bids his father eat. Isaac, trembling violently wondered who he blessed and said that that man will indeed be blessed as the firstborn, and not Esau. This infuriated Esau, and he sought to kill Jacob, chasing him into the wilderness. (cf. Genesis 27)

What a family, huh? A conniving wife and sons named hairy and cheater!

That’s what led up to that bit I began this sermon with. Although, he was not just on the run from his brother, but also in search for a wife. He was in the wilderness, weary from the chase, and falling asleep on a rock for a pillow. Interestingly enough, he slept at the place which would be Jerusalem, specifically where Solomon’s temple would be built, according to what Luther once wrote. There, he dreamed, and saw a ladder so high that its top reached into heaven. The angels of God were ascending and descending on it. And YHWH stood above it and spoke to Jacob:

Waking from the dream, Jacob exclaims, “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.” (cf. Genesis 28:10-17)

Later on, Jacob would receive a new name: Israel. He would give that name to the nation he would father, and they would also bear his legacy, being a nation of cheaters and deceivers.

Now, here’s the thing about Jacob. Even though he was the younger brother, it was foretold that the older brother would serve the younger. Even Isaac repeated this when he spoke to Esau after giving Jacob the blessing. Jacob was God’s choice to be the patriarch of His chosen people; He didn’t need Jacob to cheat and deceive his way into this position. Mercifully, his cheating and deceiving did not nullify God’s promise. Through Jacob—through Israel—would come the promised Seed of the woman.

About 2000 years later, the Seed took on flesh and was born of a descendant of Jacob: a young maid from Nazareth betrothed to a man named Joseph, named after Jacob’s youngest and favorite son. This Jesus had just been baptized by His relative and spent 40 days in the wilderness being tempted by the Accuser. In today’s Gospel, He’s back at the Sea of Galilee and calling his first disciples. Peter, Andrew, James, and John followed Him; then Philip from Bethsaida. Philip found Nathanael, who is otherwise known as Bartholomew, and told him, “We have found Him of whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.”

Now, Nathanael was a knowledgeable man. He was well versed in the Law and the Prophets. He asked, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Based on what Jesus said of him, you can safely assume that Nathanael asked this question innocently, not to berate Jesus or to doubt what Philip said. He expressed that what he had heard was unexpected. “Nazareth? That’s such an insignificant little place. The Law and the Prophets declare that the Messiah was to come from Bethlehem.”

“Come and see.”

As Jesus saw Nathanael walking toward Him, He declared, “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!” Jesus numbered Nathanael with the nation of cheaters and deceivers, but said there is no deceit in Him. Here was a descendant of Jacob the cheater who is blameless and upright. You could read Jesus as saying, “He is all Israel, and no Jacob.” Nathanael followed Philip because of the faith that he had been given. He was expecting the Messiah, and Philip said that the Messiah had come. And to confirm this faith, when Nathanael asked how Jesus knew him, Jesus replied, “Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you.” “Rabbi, You are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!”

“Because I said to you, ‘I saw you under the fig tree,’ do you believe? You will see greater things than these. Truly, truly, I say to you, you will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.” Just like his ancestor Jacob, Nathanael would see heaven open and the angels of God ascending and descending. Jesus made no mention of a ladder, but the vision Nathanael would have is the same as that of Jacob. However, the ladder Nathanael would see is Jesus Himself, crucified. This ladder has one rung—Jesus’ hands nailed to it. And His feet are nailed to the ladder’s post. Jesus’ death opens heaven to all who would believe.

Jesus’ death opened heaven for Nathanael. Even though he was declared an Israelite without deceit, he was still a descendant of Jacob and was unable to free himself from the birthright due him for his fallen flesh. Try as he might, Nathanael was a sinner in need of God’s grace. It is possible that he thought highly of himself for being called an Israelite without deceit; that by this proclamation he must have a right to salvation. I mentioned earlier that he was a knowledgeable man, knowing the Scriptures. It would be tempting for someone of this knowledge to claim a right to salvation because he knows the law and keeps it, much as the rich young man had done before Jesus. (cf. Matthew 19:17-22)

As it turns out, there is only One Israelite—only One Man—who is or ever was without deceit. He really is all of Israel and none of Jacob, and His life echoes that of the nation out of which He was born. As Israel fled to Egypt to stay alive, so did Jesus when the ruthless Herod sought the life of the young boys in Bethlehem and the surrounding region. Israel spent 40 years in the wilderness leaving Egypt, being cared for by God though rebelling against Him before crossing the Jordan into the promised land. Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness being tempted by the devil but without sin, after being baptized in the very same Jordan River and having fasted. Jesus is the perfect Israelite—unlike every other Israelite and every other man—who committed no sin and in whom there was no deceit, as the prophet declares, and St. Peter echoes. (cf. Isaiah 53:9; 1 Peter 2:22)

But not so with all of Israel. Not so with all of creation. Not so with you, dear hearers.

In a sense, you are a member of that family with the conniving wife and mother, and brothers cheater and hairy. You cheat your way past your rivals, deceiving others in order to get ahead. You’re born this way, thanks to your father Adam. Surely, you see or saw this in your own children, who did not have to be taught how to be this way—it comes naturally—blaming others for their mistakes and misbehavior, cutting in lines, taking a toy from their sibling, trashing and destroying your property, etc. And let no one deceive you that they are not accountable for their sins at such a tender, young age, even as you must discipline them for misbehaving.

And like Jacob, this scheming and deceiving and cheating only continues as you get older, only you’re more cunning at it, now. And you probably add a new tool to that deceptive arsenal: self-deception. It sounds something like this: “I’m good enough the way I am, God loves me the way I am, He made me the way I am, so He has to accept me this way and save me.” You go so far as the call your pet sin no sin because “that’s the way God made you.” “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” (1 John 1:8)

So, look at that cross, dear hearers, and see the wrath due you. You should be hanging up there, dead for your trespasses—for your cheating and deceiving. But do not look at the cross merely as the wrath that you should deserve, but as the wrath that you do not receive. Because, on that ladder to heaven, Jesus, the Son of God, received the full wrath of the Father for your sin in your place, leaving for you the blessings of the Father that you do not deserve, but that you receive fully and only by His grace. Jesus Christ crucified opens heaven to you!

Jesus does this for you, fulfilling all of the Scripture and being sinless and without deceit, in order that He would take your sinfulness—all of your sins and the sin you are born with in your flesh—and all of your deceit, and have it nailed with His flesh upon the cross. There He left it, on the cross, in the grave, dead and gone from you forever, as He rose from the grave. There, on the cross, Jesus Christ becomes for you the gateway of heaven, and it is open for you here and now in this place, and wherever you go for the Lord your God is with you always in Christ Jesus, His Son. Dear baptized, “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven!”

Dear baptized, here you stand, in the presence of God and one another, confessing your sins by God’s grace, and receiving Holy Absolution, the forgiveness of your sins. Heaven is open for you at the cross, and the angels of God are ascending and descending upon the ladder of Christ crucified to bring you to Jesus and Jesus to you.

The same thing happens wherever the Word is proclaimed and the Sacraments administered. Martin Luther wrote,

Dear baptized, behold the Lamb of God nailed upon the cross: He is the ladder to heaven. Jesus Christ crucified is given to you not that you would climb it and make your way to heaven, but provided for you as a means of grace. Upon this ladder are carried your cries for mercy and your pleas for grace—all of it through Jesus Christ your Lord. Upon it descends to you every blessing that the Father gives you by way of the Son in Word and Sacrament—what Jesus has earned for you on the cross. And this is namely the forgiveness of all of your sins. And where there is forgiveness, there is also life and salvation.