Matthew 25:1–13; The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost; July 27, 2025

The Bridegroom Has Prepared You

Matthew 25:1–13
The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
July 27, 2025
Life in Christ Lutheran Church
Grand Marais, Minnesota

“Then the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. For when the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps.

“As the bridegroom was delayed, they all became drowsy and slept. But at midnight there was a cry, ‘Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those virgins rose and trimmed their lamps.

“And the foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise answered, saying, ‘Since there will not be enough for us and for you, go rather to the dealers and buy for yourselves.’

“And while they were going to buy, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the marriage feast, and the door was shut. Afterward the other virgins came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’

“But he answered, ‘Truly, I say to you, I do not know you.’ Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”

Matthew 25:1–13, ESV

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Are We Ready?

When we get to the end of the Church Year and zing, zing, zing. We are surrounded by readings about the Last Day. Jesus is coming again. The dead will rise. There will be judgment. There will be a great feast. There will be trouble and persecution before He comes.

And after several Sundays of it, we may be tempted to say, “Yes, Pastor. We know. Jesus is coming again. Do we really need to hear this one more time?”

That is the question, isn’t it?

Do we know?

Are we ready?

Jesus tells this parable during a long discourse about the end of time. Just before it, He tells of a servant whose master returns earlier than the servant expects. In this parable, the bridegroom arrives later than expected. So, which is it? Will Jesus come sooner or later?

Both—and neither.

The point is not the timing. The point is that you cannot know the timing. “Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”

Ten young women are waiting to meet the bridegroom and join the wedding procession. Five are wise. Five are foolish. All ten have lamps. All ten expect the bridegroom. All ten become drowsy. All ten fall asleep.

The wise women are not praised because they stayed awake. They didn’t. The difference is that the wise brought oil for the delay, while the foolish brought none.

At midnight the cry comes: “Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.”

The women rise and prepare their lamps. Then the foolish discover what should have been obvious from the beginning. Their lamps are going out. They ask the wise for oil, but readiness cannot be borrowed. There is not enough for both. While the foolish go away searching for oil, the bridegroom comes. Those who are ready enter the marriage feast with him, and the door is shut.

Later the others return. “Lord, lord, open to us.”

But he answers with the most terrible words in the parable: “Truly, I say to you, I do not know you.”

The Foolishness Jesus Exposes

This is not simply a story about planning ahead. Jesus is not giving advice about keeping emergency supplies in the trunk of the car. The ten women picture the visible Church waiting for Christ. They all appear to belong to the wedding party. They all have lamps. They all expect something to happen.

But outward membership is not the same thing as faith. No one can believe for another person. No one can borrow a parent’s faith, a spouse’s faith or a pastor’s faith when the midnight cry sounds. And no one should presume that there will always be another day to repent, another Sunday to hear the Word or another opportunity to receive Christ’s gifts.

That is the foolishness Jesus exposes. It is the foolishness that wants the feast without the Bridegroom. It wants heaven without Christ. It wants to remain near the Church while treating His Word as optional and His forgiveness as something that can be put off until later.

We know that foolishness.

We tell ourselves there will be time later. Later we will pray. Later we will forgive. Later we will listen. Later we will repent. Later we will take Christ’s promises seriously.

But you do not know the day or the hour.

And if this parable only said, “Prepare yourself better,” none of us would be ready. We have all been foolish. We have all become distracted. We have all treated eternal things as though they could wait until tomorrow.

The Bridegroom Has Come for You

But the Bridegroom who is coming is the same Bridegroom who has already come for you.

Jesus did not remain safely in heaven and wait for His bride to make herself worthy. He took on human flesh. He entered our darkness. He carried our sin, our unbelief and our foolishness to the cross. There He was rejected. There He endured the judgment we deserved. There He shed His blood to cleanse and claim His bride, the Church.

And on the third day He rose bodily from the dead.

The Bridegroom lives.

He is coming again, not because His work remains unfinished, but because His saving work is complete. He comes to raise the dead, gather His people and bring them into the feast that has no end.

How Christ Keeps You Ready

So how are you ready?

Not by guessing the date. Not by watching world events for a secret timetable. Not by piling up enough religious activity to prove that you deserve a place at the table.

You are ready because Christ gives you what you cannot provide for yourself. He creates faith through His Word. He forgives your sins. He keeps you in His promise.

That is why the Divine Service matters. It is not our weekly contribution toward getting ready. Here the Bridegroom serves His waiting Church. Here He speaks His Word into our ears. Here He calls foolish sinners to repentance and answers confessed sin with His Absolution.

At this font, Christ joined you to His death and resurrection. He placed His name upon you and made you a child of His Father.

At this altar, the crucified and risen Jesus gives you His body and blood, given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins. He feeds His waiting people with a foretaste of the feast to come.

These gifts are not evidence that we have prepared ourselves. They are how Jesus prepares and sustains His people while the night grows long.

The warning remains serious. Faith can be abandoned. Christ’s gifts can be despised. A person can stand near the Church, carry a lamp and still refuse the Bridegroom who comes through His Word. The closed door in Jesus’ parable will not be opened by excuses, borrowed faith or last-minute bargaining.

Today, however, the door has not closed. Today Christ still calls. Today He still forgives. Today the Bridegroom says to foolish sinners, “Come to Me. Receive what I have won for you.”

And His forgiveness is greater than your foolishness.

When your sins weigh upon you, confess them. Do not defend them. Do not promise God that you will make yourself worthy. Bring Him your empty hands. Christ answers with His completed work: “I forgive you.”

Your assurance does not rest on how watchful you feel. It does not rest on whether your faith seems strong. It rests outside of you, in the Bridegroom who died and rose for you, in the Baptism by which He claimed you and in the forgiving Word He continues to speak.

The Feast Is Ready

The Bridegroom may come sooner than we expect. He may come later than we expect. Either way, His delay is not forgetfulness. It is mercy. And while we wait, we do not wait alone.

Saint Paul writes, “The Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command.” The dead in Christ will rise. Those believers who are still living will be gathered with them. “And so we will always be with the Lord.”

That is where this waiting ends.

Not with disembodied souls drifting somewhere far away. Not with death having the final word. Christ will raise His people bodily. He will reunite His Church. He will bring us into His new creation and His eternal feast.

Therefore, encourage one another with these words.

The midnight cry will sound: “Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.”

And those who are in Christ need not be afraid. The One who comes is the One who was crucified for you. The One who calls you is the One who rose for you. The One who invites you to the feast is the One who prepares and keeps you by His grace.

The Bridegroom is coming.

You belong to Him.

The feast is ready.

Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Revelation 7:9–17; The Festival of All Saints; November 1, 2026

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Revelation 7:9–17
The Festival of All Saints
November 1, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church
Grand Marais, Minnesota

After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”

And all the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, saying, “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.”

Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?”

I said to him, “Sir, you know.”

And he said to me, “These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore they are before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence.

“They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any scorching heat.

“For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Revelation 7:9–17, ESV

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Who Can Stand?

The judgment of God is terrifying. It exposes every sinner. By God’s perfect standard, no one can stand before Him by personal goodness. You can’t stand before God by religious accomplishment. The strength of your faith isn’t the issue.

You are guilty. The law shows it to you. You can’t remove even the smallest spot. You will die. That is the wages of your sin. According to God’s Law, the terrifying question echoes in your ears.

Who can stand?

No one. You are guilty; you should be condemned. I am guilty and should be condemned. It is what every person deserves under the Law. None of us is worthy to stand in God’s presence.

John, the writer of Revelation, received the vision while in exile on the island of Patmos. The vision opens the curtain of heaven. There he saw a multitude that no one can number. The multitude is standing before God praising Him. Death didn’t end them. Judgment didn’t condemn them. Their suffering in the tribulation didn’t separate them from Christ. Something has happened that allows sinners to stand before the holy God.

It must have something to do with them, some reason inside of them that made them worthy. After all, we see saints as extraordinary people. They were good. They had courage. They sacrificed. They were very good Christians. They must have lived a better life than we have lived.

But if we look at their lives honestly, against God’s law, we know it isn’t true. We know that our lives don’t survive God’s just judgment. Our grief can’t do anything about what death has separated. Our goodness cannot make us saints.

Goodness doesn’t make saints.

Salvation Belongs to God and the Lamb

John sees people from every nation, tribe, people and language. They are still the people they always were. Their earthly distinctions are visible. But those distinctions don’t divide their praise. In fact, the Church, Christ’s church, is far larger than what can be seen or counted in one congregation. The future of the church can’t be measured by attendance, age, money, buildings or even the strength of the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod.

The multitude says it:

Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!

Do you see what they do? They don’t praise their courage. They don’t list their accomplishments. They don’t claim they endured through their personal strength.

What they do say is that their salvation belongs entirely to God, and to the Lamb. In other words, their sainthood is received, not achieved.

The elder asks John:

Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?

It isn’t their appearance that explains why they belong there. By nature, they are not innocent or even clean. They came through the tribulation as sinners who needed cleansing.

They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.

The elder continues.

It is an odd thing. Blood doesn’t clean; it stains. But the Lamb’s blood makes clean.

That’s because Jesus, the Lamb of God, bore the guilt and judgment of sinners. The Lamb was slain in their place. It is His blood that covers their sin with His righteousness.

Death Is the Enemy

Death is the enemy. There isn’t anything friendly about it. It tears apart what God created to be together. It separates the body from the soul. It separates people from one another. It leaves empty places and painful memories. There is no more sure and devastating enemy.

Christians do not pretend that death is the natural end to life. We don’t say that it is harmless. We certainly don’t say it is good. Death is the wages of sin. Their death. Your death and mine.

These saints came out of the great tribulation. That means they didn’t avoid suffering. During their lives they experienced temptation, fear, grief, weakness, persecution, illness, and death. The suffering was real and personal. Their faith didn’t make that suffering painless. But also, their suffering didn’t mean that they were abandoned by Christ.

Scripture tells us what we can say.

Jesus’ promises are true. He told the repentant thief on the cross beside him:

Today you will be with Me in paradise.

Paul says that departure—his death—means that he will be with Christ, which is far better.

Jesus promises that those who die in Christ are with Him. They are safe in His presence. They are beyond sin’s condemnation. They worship before God’s throne.

That’s what the Bible clearly tells us. We don’t need to make up our own images about our friends and family that have gone before us. We don’t have to say they are continuing their favorite hobbies. We don’t have to say they are looking down on us from heaven. We don’t have to communicate with them. Christian comfort rests upon Christ’s promises, not upon imagination or subjective experiences.

The Lamb Is Their Shepherd

And, of course, it says even more.

The Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd.

This is the great reversal. Jesus Christ is the Lamb and the Shepherd. He is the one who was slain, and He now lives and reigns over all things. He became the Shepherd by laying down His life for the sheep. He passed through our enemy, death, and defeated its power. He came out of death alive forever. The great enemy, death, couldn’t hold Him.

The vision of John centers on God and on the Lamb. It doesn’t center on our reunion with our loved ones. The reunion is a promise, but it is only possible because Christ defeated death. Death is what separates. The Lamb gave His life to end death and separation.

And Christ continues to keep His saints. He shelters them. He feeds them. He keeps those who could not keep themselves. Without the Lamb, the Shepherd, there is no multitude. There are no white robes. There is no standing before God.

The Resurrection of the Body

What we see, what we are promised, is that the dead in Christ are alive, safe with Him, and free from every earthly suffering. And yet, they are still waiting.

For what?

For the resurrection of their bodies.

That is the ultimate Christian hope. The saints who stand before the throne are waiting for that great day when Christ Himself will raise their bodies. They await the day when He will give them physical life again and restore all creation.

So, at funerals we speak the words “earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” They are spoken in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection of the dead.

Christ Gives His Word and Sacraments

And there is more. There always is with God. He gives us His Word and Sacraments. We cannot see what John saw. We still see our weakness, our guilt, the grave, and the tears. So Christ gives us promises that come from outside of us.

In Holy Baptism, Christ joined you to His death and resurrection. He clothed you with His righteousness and placed His name upon you. The white robes John sees remind us that the saints do not stand before God dressed in their own goodness. They stand covered by Christ.

And Christ continues to speak His saving verdict. He does not leave you to decide whether you are clean enough or whether your faith is strong enough. His Word is active and real. It does what He says. Through His Word and Absolution, He announces forgiveness right into your ears. The verdict spoken to you now is the verdict that will stand on the Last Day.

Then, in the Lord’s Supper, the risen Lamb gives you His true body and blood—the body that death could not hold, and the blood shed for your forgiveness. He gives them to strengthen you now and as a pledge that your body also will be raised.

Christ provides these gifts because He knows what sinners need. We need promises we can hear. We need forgiveness we can receive. We need assurance that rests not in us, but entirely in Him.

We grieve the loss of loved ones. It is a natural response to death. But the Christian hope, the sure Christian hope, is in Jesus’ promise of resurrection and reunion. So, we grieve. But we grieve with hope.

Our salvation, the Church’s future, and our reunion with our loved ones who have died in Christ rest entirely on the Lamb. They don’t depend on our worthiness, our endurance, our pastor, our generation, our institution, or even our building.

It is Jesus, and only Jesus.

God Will Wipe Away Every Tear

John sees those whom death appeared to defeat. Yet they are standing—alive in Christ, clothed in white, and praising the Lamb.

The same Lamb has baptized, forgiven, and fed us. Our hope rests in His promise:

God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.

He will remove the cause of every tear. The Lamb who was slain is risen. He will raise His saints and gather His whole Church before Him. Amen.

The peace of God that passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

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John 8:31–36; Reformation Observed; October 25, 2026

John 8:31–36
Reformation Observed
October 25, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church
Grand Marais, Minnesota

So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed him, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” They answered him, “We are offspring of Abraham and have never been enslaved to anyone. How is it that you say, ‘You will become free’?” Jesus answered them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin. 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.” (John 8:31–36, ESV)

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Luther Before the Emperor

Martin Luther stood before Emperor Charles V at the Diet of Worms. It was April 1521. The Church, with the force of the government, demanded that Luther retract his writings. It wasn’t an idle threat. One hundred and six years before, John Huss was executed for saying many of the same things. Luther’s life depended on his answer.

Luther’s response is powerful.

I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the Word of God. Here I stand; I can do no other , God help me. Amen.

Do you understand what he was saying? Do you know what he meant?

The two words that drive the quote are bound and captive. He is bound to Scripture, and captive to the Word of God. In other words, the Pope, the Church, the government don’t drive his beliefs. It is the Bible, God’s Holy Word, the Holy Scriptures. What God says, not what people say. He is willing to die (that threat was very real) rather than compromise what God says.

But what Luther said sounds like the opposite of freedom. The words bound and captive, don’t sound like freedom. They sound like slavery.

Is Luther giving up one form of slavery for another?

No, his captivity frees him from every demand to justify himself. It frees him from the demands to make a confession that isn’t based on Scripture. It frees him from his own opinions.

How can a captive conscience be a free conscience?

Abide in My Word

In our text Jesus is speaking to people who believed in him. He says,

If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.

Jesus uses the word abide. He is saying live in my word. Let my word direct what you believe. If you follow me, follow me by what I have said.

He doesn’t tell them to look inside themselves for answers. He doesn’t tell them to depend on their feelings. He directs them away from their ancestry. He doesn’t say that his word is subjective, that it is based on a person’s experience and internal thoughts. He says abide, remain, continue, and dwell in my word. Jesus says that faith in him lives by a continuous receiving of His Word.

For Martin, his conscience had been captive to other words. He was told that God was an angry judge. He was told that he had to make satisfaction for his sins. He was told that he must become righteous enough to be accepted by God. He never knew whether he had done enough to please God and become righteous. He was told his standing before God depended on his spiritual performance.

He saw that the harder he worked, the less free he became. He entered a monastery. He prayed, fasted, confessed, studied and disciplined himself. He could confess individual sins, but he could not remove his sinful condition. Everything he did had the opposite effect of what he desired. There was no certainty. Every sin he uncovered pointed to another, until he realized that it wasn’t the sin, it was that he was a sinner.

You can see it in the world around us. The controlling words of society. They tell you; you are what you accomplish; You are what other people think of you; You have to justify your past; You have to prove you deserve you place; You must be good enough to please God or he won’t receive you.

The question isn’t whether your conscience is captive. The question is which word holds it.

We Have Never Been Enslaved

In the Gospel of John, Jesus promises freedom. The Jews who had believed in him reject what he says.

We are offspring of Abraham and have never been enslaved to anyone.

What they were saying is that they depended, their confidence was in, who they were, their ancestry. They were entitled to standing before God because of who they were. The confidence wasn’t found in who Jesus is.

During the festival of Reformation, we would do well to consider where we stand. We are Lutherans. Our confession of faith is correct. Saved by grace alone, is our constant mantra. We believe it. We are not like the churches who push their works before God as proof of salvation. Our history is solid, we confess the faith passed down through the ages from the Apostles. We confess a doctrine that is captive to God’s Word.

Our doctrine is precious because it confesses Christ crucified for our forgiveness. Sola Scriptura scripture alone drives it.

But if it becomes another object of boasting; if it becomes a reason to avoid repentance; we are in the same place as the people Jesus was talking to in the text for today.

We can know the vocabulary of grace, but that isn’t the same thing as receiving Christ’s grace.

A Slave to Sin

Jesus says,

Everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin.

Practices is a present participle. It denotes ongoing actions. Jesus is not describing one isolated act as though one sin suddenly turns an otherwise free person into a slave. A more literal translation is, everyone who is doing sin. In other words, Sin is not merely something free people occasionally do. Our doing of sin reveals that sin is our master.

It isn’t an occasional mistake. Jesus isn’t making categories of sinners. It applies to everyone. It is part of our inborn sinful nature. It commands us to hide, excuse, blame, compare and justify ourselves. Doing sin shows who is the master. Sin doesn’t create the master.

Paul says it clearly.

Now we know that whatever the law says it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God.

Every mouth and the whole world. That’s very inclusive. It includes Lutherans.

Luther saw it. He understood the accusation of the Law. He knew that outward obedience could not conceal the heart from God. He saw that God demands perfect fear, love and trust—not simply respectable conduct.

In fact, the more seriously he took the Law, the more clearly he saw he was a slave.

His problem wasn’t that he didn’t try hard enough. There was no amount of human effort that could make him righteous before God. No amount of doing good things would satisfy what God demands.

And Jesus describes the consequences.

The slave does not remain in the house forever.

Slaves have no permanent claim in the household. Sin leaves the sinner without a rightful place before God. Monastic discipline could not turn Luther from a slave into a son. Church membership, moral improvement, and doctrinal knowledge cannot give us that place. We can’t change our slave status by doing anything. Slaves can’t free themselves. They can’t earn a place in the house. So, who can?

Jesus.

The Son Remains Forever

He isn’t another servant trying to satisfy the Father. Jesus is the eternal Son of God. He belongs in the Father’s house. Unlike every reformer, pastor, ruler and institution, the Son remains forever.

And yet, He takes the place of slaves. He “emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant”—literally, the form of a slave (Philippians 2:7). He was “born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law” (Galatians 4:4–5). He is obedient where slaves rebel. He isn’t a slave to sin.

Jesus bears the condemnation that belongs to slaves of sin. Rejected and crucified, treated as one who has no place, he sheds His blood for redemption of sinners. He rises from death as the Son who remains forever.

Jesus Christ is treated as one without a place so that sinners may receive His place in the Father’s house.

Luther didn’t find a better method of becoming righteous. The Law can’t justify. It only exposes sin. Jesus did everything necessary to save sinners, through His precious blood and innocent suffering and death. And it is provided to them through grace. That is God’s undeserved gift. Faith is the receiving hand that receives the external promises of God. It doesn’t depend on anything else.

Romans 3 supplies the Reformation confession:

All have sinned. Every mouth is stopped. Sinners are justified freely by grace. Redeemed by Christ alone. His blood is the paid price. Faith receives the gift. And there is no bosting.

Jesus doesn’t give us, slaves, instructions for becoming free. He acts. His Word declares and accomplishes that freedom. Our faith doesn’t finish what Christ started. It receives the verdict.

Now our consciences are free from the Law’s condemnation. We are free from trying to free ourselves. There is nothing left for us to do.

Freedom Delivered

And it isn’t just an empty promise. Jesus uses concrete means to bring us the truth and produce the freedom of forgiveness. He places his name on sinner through Holy Baptism. It joins us to Him. Christ speaks forgiveness into our ears through a pastor. He preaches announces and gives the truth about His death and resurrection. It delivers what it promises. And in His supper, he gives us His body and blood for our forgiveness. It is concrete, solid, sure based on God’s promises.

Back to Worms

Martin Luther stood before Emperor Charles V at the Diet of Worms. It was April 1521. Luther had no military power of personal security. He wasn’t confident in himself. He didn’t have unusual courage. His conscience is bound, he said, to a Word greater than an emperor command, a popes condemnation, and even his own fear. It was God’s Word that declares that Christ made satisfaction for sin. Luther stands because his standing before God has already been given in Christ. His conscience is free, precisely because it is captive to Christ’s Word and promise.

The Gospel Remains

On Reformation we don’t merely remember what Luther did. When we talk about reformation we are talking about an ongoing reformation. The church is reformed whenever God’s Word exposes false confidence; where His Word stops human boasting; where His Word calls sinners to repentance, and points them outside of themselves, gives them Christ’s completed work and frees them through forgiveness.

The Church does not remain because Luther was courageous. It does not remain because pastors are permanent. It does not remain because institutions are strong. The Gospel remains because the crucified and risen Son remains forever.

A Captive Conscience Set Free

So, how can a captive conscience be free?

A conscience captive to sin is condemned. A conscience captive to human approval is afraid. A conscience captive to personal performance moves between pride and despair.

A conscience captive to Christ’s Word hears: Christ has borne your sin. Christ has paid the entire price. Christ gives you His righteousness. Christ has brought you into His Father’s house. Christ’s promise does not depend upon your performance.

Luther’s conscience was free because it was held by that Word.

Your freedom does not rest upon Luther’s courage or your own. It rests upon Jesus Christ—the Son who took the slave’s place, set you free, and remains forever. Amen.

The peace of God that passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Jesus Christ. Amen.

Isaiah 45:1–7; Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost; October 18, 2026

Isaiah 45:1–7
Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost
October 18, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, Minnesota

Thus says the Lord to his anointed, to Cyrus, whose right hand I have grasped, to subdue nations before him and to loose the belts of kings, to open doors before him that gates may not be closed: “I will go before you and level the exalted places, I will break in pieces the doors of bronze and cut through the bars of iron, I will give you the treasures of darkness and the hoards in secret places, that you may know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, who call you by your name. For the sake of my servant Jacob, and Israel my chosen, I call you by your name, I name you, though you do not know me. I am the Lord, and there is no other, besides me there is no God; I equip you, though you do not know me, that people may know, from the rising of the sun and from the west, that there is none besides me; I am the Lord, and there is no other. I form light and create darkness; I make well-being and create calamity; I am the Lord, who does all these things.”

—Isaiah 45:1–7, ESV

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

It was the year 539 BC. The people of Judah were scattered throughout the Babylonian Empire. They were exiles, far from home and far from the Promised Land. They had forgotten that God had given that land to them. They had turned to other gods. They had depended upon their kings to rescue them. But their kings had failed. Jerusalem had fallen. Now they were living in exile.

Their exile had not been easy. The kings of Babylon could be harsh and oppressive. The temple in Jerusalem had been destroyed. Only rubble lay on the temple mount. Jerusalem itself had been emptied and broken down. It had been that way for nearly fifty years. But now things were about to change.

Babylon’s power was fading. A new empire was rising. Cyrus and his Persian army stood poised to take Babylon. Soon the city would be his. Babylon fell with little resistance.

But what hope did that give God’s people? What difference did it make if one pagan king replaced another?

God Was Still in Control of History

The answer is found in our text. Long before Cyrus entered Babylon, Isaiah had proclaimed God’s promise. The exile would not last forever. God had a plan to redeem His people from captivity.

God was still in control of history.

Just as He had rescued Israel from oppression in Egypt, He would rescue His people again. Isaiah announced that a ruler would order Jerusalem and the temple to be rebuilt. He even gave the ruler’s name.

“Cyrus, my shepherd,” God called him, “and he shall fulfill all my purpose” (Isaiah 44:28).

God wanted His people to remember that He was in control of human history. He had called Cyrus by name before Cyrus knew Him. Cyrus would be God’s shepherd, God’s anointed instrument, the ruler through whom God would accomplish His purpose. And that is what happened.

Cyrus conquered Babylon. He subdued nations and stripped kings of their power. Then he issued the decree allowing the exiles to return and rebuild the temple:

“Thus says Cyrus king of Persia: The LORD, the God of heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of the earth, and He has charged me to build Him a house at Jerusalem, which is in Judah” (Ezra 1:2).

Imagine how surprising that must have been. This pagan king was being used as God’s shepherd. God had called him by name and placed him within His plan to give His people a future.

But being called by name was not new to Israel.

“Thus says the LORD, He who created you, O Jacob, He who formed you, O Israel: ‘Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are Mine’” (Isaiah 43:1).

God called Abraham by name and preserved Isaac. He gave Jacob the name Israel. He called Moses from the burning bush and used him to bring Israel out of slavery. Again and again, God called His people by name and acted to save them.

The God who created the world was guiding history according to His purposes. Through Moses, He freed His people from slavery. Through Cyrus, He returned His people from exile.

The Anointed One

But Cyrus was still only an anointed servant—an instrument in God’s hand. Cyrus did not even know the Lord who had called him.

God was preparing to send the Anointed One.

Jesus is the Christ. He knows the Father and obeys Him willingly. Cyrus opened the way home from Babylon. Jesus came to bring sinners home to God.

“You shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21).

Jesus is the Good Shepherd sent to rescue His people—not merely from slavery in Egypt, but from slavery to sin. Not merely from exile in Babylon, but from our exile away from God. Jesus came to change our history and give us a future.

The sin with which we were born places us at odds with our Creator. We are exiles from God because we want to live as if we belonged to ourselves. Like Israel, we turn to other gods.

We choose ourselves as god. We decide what is right and wrong according to what benefits us. We trust in wealth, strength, government, reputation, or our own plans instead of trusting God. Isn’t it interesting that our money says, “In God We Trust”? We carry the words, but so often our trust rests in the money itself.

We want to control our future. We want to write our own history. We want God to bless the life we have chosen rather than receive our life from Him. Sin destroys what is good in our lives, our relationships and our families. Sin finally gives us no future except death and the judgment we deserve.

But Jesus came to rescue us from that exile. Jesus came to give us a future again.

“And being found in human form, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8).

His death ended our exile by reconciling us to God.

The cross looked like another moment when pagan rulers controlled history. Pontius Pilate issued the order. Roman soldiers carried it out. The inscription above Jesus’ head bore the authority of Caesar. But God was still Lord of history.

Through that unjust sentence, God was accomplishing His saving purpose. Jesus willingly carried your sin. He endured your judgment. He entered your death.

He did it for you.

“Therefore God has highly exalted Him and bestowed on Him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow—in heaven and on earth and under the earth—and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:9–11).

He Has Called You by Name

Jesus humbled Himself and was obedient unto death. Then the Father raised Him from the dead. Jesus Christ is Lord. Cyrus could release Israel from Babylon. Jesus releases sinners from death itself.

And Jesus calls you by name.

“I baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28:19).

In Baptism, God placed His name upon you. The Good Shepherd called you by name and made you His own. He led you out of slavery to sin and death. He guides you in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.

The God who forms light and creates darkness, who makes well-being and creates calamity, rules over all things. Isaiah is not calling evil good or excusing those who do evil. He is confessing that no ruler, darkness, disaster, or time of change lies outside the Lord’s authority.

And this Lord has called you by name.

Jesus was obedient to death on the cross for you. As He hung there bleeding and dying, it was for you. Your sin was on Him. Your punishment was His. His death was your rescue. God gave you His name in Baptism and called you His own.

Life in Christ

That gives comfort as Life in Christ approaches a time of change. A vacancy does not mean that Christ has abandoned His Church. A vacancy changes who occupies the pastor’s office. It does not change who is Lord of the Church. The congregation does not belong to one pastor, one committee, one family or one generation.

Life in Christ belongs to Jesus Christ.

He has gathered this congregation around His name, His Word, and His Sacraments. He has placed us here to confess His name and bring His Gospel to our neighbors.

Even the name of this congregation confesses where its life is found:

Life in Christ.

Not in a building. Not in a pastor. Not in our plans or strength.

In Christ.

The Lord has called His people together in this place. There is much to do. We live in a community where many people have no church home and many do not know the comfort of Christ’s forgiveness. But the Church does not change history through its own strength.

Christ has already changed history through His life, death and resurrection. He changes the history of sinners whenever His Gospel is proclaimed, whenever sins are forgiven, whenever a child or adult is baptized into His name, and whenever His body and blood are given for forgiveness.

God has called you by name. He called you in your Baptism. He changed your history and gave you a future.

Cyrus conquered Babylon and permitted the exiles to return home. God preserved Israel so that the Savior would come. And Jesus Christ came. He entered our exile. He bore our sin. He died our death. He rose again.

He has called you by name.

You are His. Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Isaiah 5:1–7; The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost; October 4, 2026

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Isaiah 5:1–7
The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost
October 4, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, Minnesota

Let me sing for my beloved my love song concerning his vineyard: My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill. He dug it and cleared it of stones, and planted it with choice vines; he built a watchtower in the midst of it, and hewed out a wine vat in it; and he looked for it to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes. And now, O inhabitants of Jerusalem and men of Judah, judge between me and my vineyard. What more was there to do for my vineyard, that I have not done in it? When I looked for it to yield grapes, why did it yield wild grapes? And now I will tell you what I will do to my vineyard. I will remove its hedge, and it shall be devoured; I will break down its wall, and it shall be trampled down. I will make it a waste; it shall not be pruned or hoed, and briers and thorns shall grow up; I will also command the clouds that they rain no rain upon it. For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel, and the men of Judah are his pleasant planting; and he looked for justice, but behold, bloodshed; for righteousness, but behold, an outcry!” (Isaiah 5:1–7, ESV)

Grace and peace to you, from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Isaiah’s message is harsh. It is meant to be. The Law is harsh because it exposes and condemns sin. There is no way around it. God means to destroy the vineyard. It is like the text in Revelation 3.

Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent. (Revelation 3:19, ESV)

God is angry about sin and will be until it is finally gone. He sets His Law before people, and they break it. The Old Testament uses the image of God’s nose burning in anger against sin. Isaiah leaves no doubt about the vineyard’s immediate identity: ‘The vineyard of the LORD of hosts is the house of Israel, and the men of Judah are his pleasant planting.’ In Matthew 21, Jesus takes up this vineyard image against Israel’s religious leaders and speaks of God’s kingdom. Therefore, the warning also reaches the Church today: God still seeks the fruit of faith from those gathered around His Word. With love and care, God established His vineyard, with a hedge to keep trouble out. But when God’s people act no differently than the world, He tears down the hedge. The vineyard is trampled by foreign invaders. The crops are destroyed. They were only sour grapes anyway, but nonetheless, they are trampled to nothing.

It is easy to identify sour grapes in other churches and in the world around us. But Isaiah does not give us a safe place outside the vineyard. Before we judge someone else’s fruit, God’s Law turns us toward our own church and our own lives.

The church, especially the Lutheran Church, sometimes speaks clearly about grace while treating God’s Law as though it were meant mainly for somebody else. We excuse our anger, repeat gossip as “concern,” hold tightly to old grudges, defend our sexual sins, protect our money, and overlook the neighbor who needs our time and care. We know the right words, but our lives still produce the sour grapes of pride, selfishness, and lovelessness.

It is only natural to want to pass over our sins very quickly. They are ugly and terrible. They leave our lives in shambles. So, our sins deserve more than a cursory examination. The Law exposes and condemns them. The Gospel forgives sinners for Christ’s sake and creates the new life that begins to hate sin and delight in God’s will. The prophet Micah makes the Law personal; he speaks directly to individuals.

“He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8, ESV)

God does have requirements for His people. We may not like to hear that, because His Law exposes how far short we fall. That is why Micah’s final phrase matters: “walk humbly with your God.” Humility begins by confessing that we have not done what God requires and by receiving what He has done for us in Christ—the forgiveness of all our sins.

We say it with our confession,

“If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” (1 John 1:8, ESV)

If you believe that you have conquered sin or that your sins are of little concern to God, you deceive yourself. That is not walking humbly with God. You may change your outward behavior, but sin reaches deeper than behavior. It is the darkness within the human heart that resists God and His will. You cannot reform the old Adam or free yourself from him. He must be put to death—and that struggle will continue until God raises you on the Last Day, forever free from sin.

The passage, our confession continues,

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9, ESV)

This is not a one-time thing; confession continues throughout the Christian life. Luther said that the Christian life is one of repentance. That means struggle against our human nature. A struggle against sin. An ongoing trip to the cross of Christ. There we continually receive His forgiveness. But the old Adam remains with us throughout this earthly life. To deny that continuing struggle would be to deceive ourselves and contradict God’s Word.

The Bible is full of God’s faithful people struggling with sin and losing: Adam, Eve, Moses, David, the prophets, the disciples both before and after the death and resurrection of Jesus, Paul, and more. If you think you are spared from this ongoing struggle you are mistaken.

After describing his own continuing struggle with sin, Paul cries, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:24, ESV). Christians should expect this struggle to continue throughout this earthly life. But Paul immediately directs us to our deliverance: “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:25, ESV).

That is exactly why the Gospel must never become an excuse for taking sin lightly. We are an evangelical church—a good-news-preaching church—and the good news is Jesus Christ. Jesus fulfilled the Law we could not keep, carried our sins to the cross, and rose to save us. This sweet message was purchased at a terrible cost. Jesus bore not only bodily pain and death but also God’s judgment against your sin and mine. He cried, ‘My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?’ We cannot comprehend the cost. He died not only for the sins already behind us, but also for those we have not yet committed. Every sin shows why Jesus went to the cross, and the cross shows how completely He has answered for every sin.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus takes up Isaiah’s vineyard again. The owner sends servant after servant, and the tenants beat and kill them. Finally, the Father sends His Son. Sinners cast Him outside the vineyard and kill Him. But God raises the rejected Son: ‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.’ The vineyard’s hope is not better tenants trying harder. Its hope is the crucified and risen Son.

Ye who think of sin but lightly
Nor suppose the evil great
Here may view its nature rightly,
Here its guilt may estimate.
Mark the sacrifice appointed,
See who bears the awful load;
’Tis the Word, the Lord’s anointed,
Son of Man and Son of God. (LSB 451)

The Church is a grace place—a mouth house where God speaks His promises. Here He continually tells you of Jesus: His life lived on your behalf, His death in place of yours, and His resurrection promised to you. God promises that Christ has dealt with your sin and that it will not condemn you to eternal death. Christ has borne the Law’s condemnation in your place. Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Your sin will not condemn you, because Jesus has answered for it completely.

God is also present with you in your struggle against sin. You do not fight alone. Through His Word and by His Holy Spirit, He directs you, strengthens you to resist, and comforts you with the Gospel when you fail. This is the Trinity at work in your life and in your continuing struggle against the old Adam, your sinful nature.

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. . . . So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus. (Romans 6:3–5, 11, ESV)

Notice how Paul pushes everything back to Jesus: your Baptism, the death of your sinful nature, and your resurrection to new life. You are His; you should live differently. And when you fail, and you will, you return to the cross and receive forgiveness there. That forgiveness is the power to live your life differently. That forgiveness is life-changing.

So, as construction continues and this congregation prepares for a vacancy, is it a fair question to ask what God requires of us? Of course it is, especially considering all that He has given us. Our confidence is not that we have been more faithful than others. Our confidence is Christ alone. He has preserved His Word among us, forgiven our sins, and continued to care for this congregation. He has graced us with this property. We are in an ideal place for a church. He has even placed for our view a symbolic hedge of trees around it. This is all God’s work, a gracious gift from His hand alone.

• Will this continue to be a place where God defies the odds and brings the Good News of Jesus to the community?
• Will this be a place where God’s Word is continually and always taught in its truth and purity?
• Will this vineyard be a place where people hear God’s Law and Gospel, to convict stubborn hearts and gladden troubled hearts?
• Will this hedged-in vineyard be a place where Christians can go with the trouble of their sin and find relief?
• Will this be a place where the Gospel compels us to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God?

If the answer to these questions is ‘Yes’—and I believe it is—we have faithful work to do. But the vineyard belongs to Christ. He gives the growth, He forgives our failures, and He remains with His Church. Amen.

The peace of God that passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

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Matthew 21:23-32; The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost; September 27, 2026

Matthew 21:23-32
The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost
September 27, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, Minnesota

And when [Jesus] entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came up to him as he was teaching, and said, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” Jesus answered them, “I also will ask you one question, and if you tell me the answer, then I also will tell you by what authority I do these things. The baptism of John, from where did it come? From heaven or from man?” And they discussed it among themselves, saying, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say to us, ‘Why then did you not believe him?’ But if we say, ‘From man,’ we are afraid of the crowd, for they all hold that John was a prophet.” So they answered Jesus, “We do not know.” And he said to them, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I do these things. What do you think? A man had two sons. And he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ And he answered, ‘I will not,’ but afterward he changed his mind and went. And he went to the other son and said the same. And he answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Truly, I say to you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes go into the kingdom of God before you. For John came to you in the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him. And even when you saw it, you did not afterward change your minds and believe him.”

Matthew 21:23–32, ESV

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Authority. Who has it? Where does it come from? That’s what the Chief Priests and Elders wanted to know.

Who gave you the right?

Only days before Jesus had entered Jerusalem as King. The people spread palm branches in front of him. He rode on a donkey, fulfilling the scriptures. He drove the buyers and sellers out of the temple.

It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you make it a den of robbers.

Matthew 21:13, ESV

It wasn’t a pretty sight. Jesus turning over tables. Then calmly he returns to teach.

By what authority are you doing these things? They ask.

Seems like a reasonable question.

But they aren’t asking in honesty seeking the truth. They don’t want to know about Jesus. They are challenging his right to interfere with their authority, their worship, their place in their communities. Their whole lives.

You and I might ask the same question of God’s Word. There are things that we want to protect.

• Who gives it authority to command forgiveness when I have been wronged?
• Who gives it authority to call my sexual desires sinful?
• Who gives it authority to forgive people whom I do not think deserve forgiveness?

We ask these questions; we don’t always reject Christ and his Word openly. Sometimes we hide it in questions and excuses.

Chief Priests and Elders wanted to know. They calculate instead of confessing. They ask the question,

Who gives you the authority…

Jesus is patient. He asks a defining question.

Did John’s baptism come from heaven or from man?

They don’t consider if either answer is true. What they do is calculate what each answer will cost them. If they say, “from heaven,” Jesus will ask why they did not believe John. If they say, “from man,” they fear the crowd. “We do not know” is not uncertainty. It is calculated evasion.

We manage our issues the same way. We wonder what we can safely admit. We avoid the question of what God has said. We are worried about appearances in the eyes of other people. We want to avoid embarrassment. We fear that more than unbelief. We defend instead of confess.

But repentance is the end of managing appearances before God.

When we listen to Jesus’ parable about the two sons, we try to push ourselves into who did better. The first son openly refused his father but later changed his mind. The second respectfully says he will go but never does. One son rebels against his father with his mouth. The other rebels beneath obedient words. Both sons reveal things about us.

That’s us. Sometimes we simply say no to God. Other times we have the right words, religious words about trusting or obeying. Church membership, theological vocabulary, offices, and years of service cannot substitute for faith.

Jesus didn’t praise the tax collectors and prostitutes for their sin. They entered because they believed John’s word. They repented. Respectable unbelief remains unbelief.

So, who actually did the father’s will? The first. He initially refused but repented and went anyway. Jesus’ parable shows us our sin. We sometimes openly refuse then do what God asks anyway. At the same time, we sometimes say the right thing but don’t follow through. Neither of those responses is perfect obedience to God’s will. Neither son obeyed perfectly.

But there is One Son who does the Father’s will perfectly.

He is standing there in the temple confronting sin and preaching the truth. It is Jesus.

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

Philippians 2:5–11, ESV

Jesus possesses God’s authority, but he doesn’t use it as we would. He doesn’t use it to protect himself. He comes with authority in the form of a servant. To serve you and me. He humbles himself. He obeys God’s will even though it meant his brutal death on the cross.

You and I have said no and disobeyed. We have said yes and failed to go. Jesus says yes to His Father and went all the way to the cross. We are openly rebellious and outwardly respectable. We deserve the judgment of God’s Word. But Jesus received the judgment instead of us. He hangs on the cross in our place. He fulfills God’s Word perfectly, completing the Father’s saving will for us.

The real question isn’t just “Who gave Jesus this authority?” It is also, “What did Jesus do with it?” Receive Jesus’ righteousness. He went to the cross for you. It is yours through faith.

That same authority does even more. In Baptism, the Lord places His name upon sinners. In Absolution, Christ authoritatively forgives what we can no longer excuse. In Scripture, He calls us out of evasions and into faith. In the Supper, the exalted Lord still stoops down to give His body and blood for forgiveness.

Jesus said to them, “Truly, I say to you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes go into the kingdom of God before you. For John came to you in the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him.”

Jesus is mercy. His warnings come with a summons. Believe! Stop protecting the appearance of righteousness. Stop defending your refusal to do what he commands. Believe the Word of God. Receive Jesus’ righteousness that sent him to the cross for you. It is yours through faith.

“Who gave Jesus the right?”

His Father did. He is the eternal Son and risen Lord.

But see what He does with that right: He places Himself beneath sinners, bears their judgment, and opens His kingdom to them.

Jesus has the authority to expose your sin.

And Jesus has the authority to forgive it.

Amen.

The peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Matthew 20:1–16; Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost; September 20, 2026

"For the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the laborers for a denarius a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And going out about the third hour he saw others standing idle in the marketplace, and to them he said, 'You go into the vineyard too, and whatever is right I will give you.' So they went. Going out again about the sixth hour and the ninth hour, he did the same. And about the eleventh hour he went out and found others standing. And he said to them, 'Why do you stand here idle all day?' They said to him, 'Because no one has hired us.' He said to them, 'You go into the vineyard too.' And when evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, 'Call the laborers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last, up to the first.' And when those hired about the eleventh hour came, each of them received a denarius. Now when those hired first came, they thought they would receive more, but each of them also received a denarius. And on receiving it they grumbled at the master of the house, saying, 'These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.' But he replied to one of them, 'Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what belongs to you and go. I choose to give to this last worker as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?' So the last will be first, and the first last." (Matthew 20:1-16)

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen. Jesus tells the story. A man owns a vineyard. Early in the morning, before the sun grows hot, he goes to the marketplace looking for workers. Men are standing there waiting. They need work. He agrees to pay them the usual wage for a full day, and they go into his vineyard. At nine in the morning, the owner goes out again. More men are standing in the marketplace. He tells them, "You go into the vineyard too, and whatever is right I will give you." They trust him, and they go.

At noon, he goes out again. At three in the afternoon, again. Then, at five o'clock, with only one hour left in the working day, the owner goes to the marketplace one more time. He finds still more men standing there. "Why do you stand here idle all day?" he asks. "Because no one has hired us." They weren't hiding from work. They weren't sleeping late. No one had chosen them. Maybe they weren't as strong as the others. Maybe they were too old. Maybe they were too young. Maybe every time an employer came through, someone else looked like a better choice.

But the owner chooses them. "You go into the vineyard too." They go. They barely get their hands dirty before the day is over. Then the owner does something strange. He tells his foreman to call the workers and pay them, beginning with the last ones hired. The men who worked only one hour step forward. They haven't done enough to feed their families for the day. They know it. But the foreman puts a whole denarius into each man's hand - a full day's wage.

Imagine their faces. They came expecting almost nothing. They receive everything they need. The workers who started at sunrise see it happen. They begin calculating. If the owner gave a full day's pay to those men, surely we will receive more. We worked twelve hours. We carried the load through the hottest part of the day. Surely generosity toward them means a bonus for us.

But each one receives a denarius. Exactly what the owner promised. And they grumble.

You Have Made Them Equal to Us

"These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us." There it is. "You have made them equal to us." The owner hasn't cheated them. They received the full wage they agreed upon. Their complaint isn't really about what they received. Their complaint is about what the others received. They don't want merely to have enough. They want to have more.

They don't want the owner's generosity if he is going to be just as generous to someone else. They want their long day in the vineyard to make them better than the workers who came at the end. We understand them. We know how to count our hours in the vineyard. At Life in Christ, with only thirty-three members, the work is personal and visible. There isn't a large crowd to carry it. We remember the years we have belonged here, the offices we have held, the meetings we have attended, the money we have given, the repairs we have made, and the Sundays we continued to gather when only a handful of worshipers were here.

But the distinction between the first workers and the last workers does not fit neatly into longtime members and newer members. Some of our newer members have stepped eagerly into the work. They have taken responsibility, offered their time, and become some of the most active people in this congregation. They may have arrived later, but they have not stood idle.

That does not mean we are free from the workers' sin. We still know how to notice what we have contributed. We remember what required our time, our money, our patience, and our sacrifice. We may not say it aloud, but the heart quietly turns those good works into reasons that our judgment should matter more or that our service should be recognized. Then God's gifts become entries on our timecards. The new building becomes something we accomplished. New members become evidence that our plans were right. Faithful service becomes a claim upon the congregation - or even upon God.

Their pastor is not outside this temptation. I can count sermons preached, visits made, years served, and burdens carried. I can look at the good things God has done here - the new building, the new members, and the faithful service of so many - and quietly take credit for what belongs to Him. Then even God's generosity becomes another entry on my timecard, another reason to think my work deserves recognition. But I did not create these blessings. The Lord of the vineyard did. I stand beside every member of this congregation as another sinner whom He called and to whom He gives the same undeserved Christ.

And beneath all those calculations is the same complaint: "You have made them equal to us." But these good things do not belong on our timecards. God sustained this congregation when only a handful gathered for worship. God brought new members. God provided the new building. God gave His people the willingness and ability to serve. These are not wages proving that one worker is worth more than another. They are gifts from the generous Lord of the vineyard.

God Is Not in Our Debt

But God is not in our debt. Not after twelve hours. Not after fifty years. Not after a lifetime. If God pays us what our works deserve, the wages of sin is death. Even our best work is stained by pride. We help, but we want to be noticed. We give, but we keep score. We serve, but we resent those who do less. We confess salvation by grace, and then we look for some little reason why we should stand ahead of our neighbor.

The owner says, "Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? I choose to give to this last worker as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?" Literally, "Is your eye evil because I am good?" The problem is not that the owner lacks fairness. The problem is that the workers resent goodness.

And this is what Isaiah tells us today: God's thoughts are not our thoughts, and His ways are not our ways. We often use those words when we don't understand why something happened. But listen to the words around them. The wicked man returns to the Lord, and the Lord has compassion. The sinner returns to our God, and He abundantly pardons. That is the higher thought of God.

Abundant pardon. We calculate what people deserve. God gives mercy to those who don't deserve it. We rank the first and the last. God gives them the same Savior. We count our hours. God looks to the work of Christ. Jesus is the One who bore the burden of the whole day. He entered this world not at the cool end of the afternoon but under the full burden of God's Law. He did every work His Father gave Him to do. He loved God with all His heart. He loved His neighbor without keeping score. He welcomed sinners who had wasted their lives. He received the thief who had only hours left to live.

Jesus did not grumble because mercy came to the latecomer. He came to give mercy to the latecomer. Then Jesus received the wage that belongs to us. "The wages of sin is death." He had no sin, yet He carried ours. He bore the heat of God's judgment on the cross. He was treated as the faithless servant, the grumbler, the proud worker, the sinner who resents grace. He received our wage - suffering, condemnation, and death.

And He gives you what belongs to Him. His righteousness. His place as the beloved Son. His resurrection. His eternal life. Jesus took the wage you earned and gives you the life He earned. That is grace.

God Does Not Prorate Christ

And God does not prorate Christ. The child baptized this morning does not receive a fraction of Jesus. The adult brought to faith after decades away does not receive a lesser Jesus. The Christian who has struggled and stumbled all his life does not receive the leftovers after stronger Christians have been paid. There is one Lord, one faith, one Baptism. There is one body and blood of Christ, given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.

There is one absolution: "I forgive you all your sins." The first and the last receive the same Christ because there is only one Christ to give, and He gives Himself whole. So where does that leave the work? It leaves the work exactly where God intended it: serving your neighbor. You do not serve to make God generous. He is already generous. You do not work to move yourself ahead of another sinner. Christ has made you both His own.

You work because there are people in the vineyard who need you. There is a congregation to care for during a time of change. There are children who need to learn the faith. There are grieving people who need comfort. There are lonely people who need a visit. There is a building to finish and a church to maintain. There are neighbors who need food, patience, truth, and the good news of Jesus.

The Work Matters Because the Neighbor Matters

The work matters because the neighbor matters. But the wage - forgiveness, life, and salvation - is God's gift in Christ. Perhaps you came into the vineyard early. Thanks be to God. He has sustained you through the long day. Perhaps you came at noon. Thanks be to God. He called you when He did. Perhaps you feel as though you have arrived at the eleventh hour, with little to show and no time to make up what was lost.

The owner still goes out. He still calls sinners. He still says, "You go into the vineyard too." And when evening comes, His generosity will not fail. The Lord has not cheated the first. He has been good to the last. He gives the same promise, the same forgiveness, the same resurrection, and the same eternal life in Jesus Christ. God is good. And His goodness is for you. Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.