Ezekiel 34:11-16; The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost; September 14, 2025;

Ezekiel 34:11-16; The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost; September 14, 2025;

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN;

“For thus says the Lord God: Behold, I, I myself will search for my sheep and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so will I seek out my sheep, and I will rescue them from all places where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness. And I will bring them out from the peoples and gather them from the countries, and will bring them into their own land. And I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, by the ravines, and in all the inhabited places of the country. I will feed them with good pasture, and on the mountain heights of Israel shall be their grazing land. There they shall lie down in good grazing land, and on rich pasture they shall feed on the mountains of Israel.

I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I myself will make them lie down, declares the Lord God. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, and the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them in justice.” (Ezekiel 34:11–16, ESV)

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

It is pure gospel. Tucked between the law, proclaimed against the faithless shepherds and faithless sheep. God does what God does. He saves. Right after harsh judgment on faithless shepherds and wandering sheep, right there comes this Gospel. It is sheer grace. Behold I, I myself will do it. He doubles up on the subject. I…I will do it. It isn’t just a way to fill up the text, it is divine emphasis. It is a conventional oath. God is at center stage. In every verb, the subject is God himself. Ten times God’s I will echoes out from the text. He is the searcher. He is the shepherd. The sheep don’t act. It is God alone.

God says,

Behold! I, I myself will search; I will seek them out; I will rescue them; I will bring them out; I will gather them; I will feed them; The verbs, seek, rescue, bring out, gather and feed, are given in the imperfect tense. That means ongoing, continuous action by God. It doesn’t stop. It isn’t a one-time action. Whenever the sheep are lost, he finds them with his active pursuit. Whenever they are in danger, he rescues them. Whenever they are bound in chains, he brings them out. Whenever they are scattered, he gathers. Whenever they are hungry, he provides rich pasture. You are seeing the very heart of God, the searcher. Grace in action. He seeks me, his sheep, whenever I stray.

And God continues,

I myself will be the shepherd; I will seek the lost; I will bring back the strayed; I will bind up the injured; I will strengthen the weak. I will feed with justice. Again, we see God’s tender heart. Continually, God never abandons the lost; he heals wounds with forgiveness; he gives courage to face the harsh world; and he protects the vulnerable.

And yet, God says it’s true. But… the news. Instead of safety, you hear about a Christian man shot on campus, attacks on churches, workers dismissed for their confession of Christ. It is a steady drumbeat of opposition. Satan himself, and the broken world, want the sheep to think they are alone, lost, abandoned, scattered, harassed and helpless. God speaks louder than the news. I, I myself will search, I, I myself will bind. I, I myself will save.

The natural question is: When? Where? How does God do all this. It seems the world is winning. Ezekiel gives the verbs. The Gospels show the face of God, in Jesus. I, I myself will search. I, I myself will shepherd. The invisible God has become visible in Jesus. He comes into the world, not as a king, but with nail scared hands.

The presence of evil remains. The wolves prowl around the flock, licking their chops. Persecution, hatred, bloodshed. If the shepherd has come, why is this still true? Ezekiel spoke it clearly. Jesus warned of it. “I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves.” But the power of evil is broken. Evil is met at the cross. The jaws of death are crushed. He still growls. He still bites. But he is done in. His real power is destroyed. He only lashes out in desperation. His end is sure. And he knows it. The shepherds word still stands: “I Myself will seek, I Myself will bind, I Myself will save.” In His presence—right in the middle of evil—we are not abandoned, not alone, not helpless. We are His, and nothing will snatch us from His hand.

He [Christ] is the image (eikōn) of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. Colossians 1:15

Every question asked is answered in the I, I myself will…

I (I, I myself) am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down His life for the sheep. John 10:11

Every question you ask is answered in Jesus. When does God search?

But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.” (Galatians 4:4–5, ESV)

Where does God bind up the broken? The cross. The shepherd takes the wounds of the sheep on himself, into his own flesh.

But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and by his stripes we are healed. Isaiah 53:5

The healing isn’t abstract, either. He is wounded for us. Jesus, the I, I myself, is bruised, beaten, and torn. Our injuries are laid on him. His wounds become our medicine. The news tells us of violence that wounds and scatters, but the Gospel proclaims the violence Christ bore that heals and gathers. His stripes are your healing. His death is your life. His blood is the Shepherd’s binding for the broken.

How does God save? In Jesus. The shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.

Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world! John 1:29

The I, I myself of Ezekiel takes on human flesh. Jesus Christ comes into the world to seek and save the lost. The verbs of Ezekeil take on human flesh. Jesus became the very words of God. He searches, rescues, binds and strengthens. He searches out Zacchaus, he rescues the demon-possessed, he binds the wounds of the broken. He strengthens the weak in faith. In the end he lays down his very life, so that the lost, broken, and condemned, are secure forever.

For you, He has done it—for you, the lost and condemned creature. The Shepherd became the Lamb. He was pierced for you. He bore the stripes that heal, for you. He laid down His life and rose again, for you. Jesus is the “I Myself” of Ezekiel in human flesh. Every verb—search, rescue, gather, feed, bind, strengthen—lives and breathes in Him. The news may roar with violence, hatred, and death for those who bear His name, but Christ has already crushed the wolf’s jaws. He is stronger than death, He has defeated Satan, He has won the victory—and that victory is already yours. Behold, I Myself will search. I Myself will bind. I Myself will save. That is our Savior. That is Jesus. He has done it, and He will do it forever. Amen.

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

September 7, 2025; Philemon 10-21; 13th Sunday after Pentecost;

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN;

1Paul, a prisoner for Christ Jesus, and Timothy our brother, To Philemon our beloved fellow worker. 10I appeal to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I became in my imprisonment. 11(Formerly he was useless to you, but now he is indeed useful to you and to me.) 12I am sending him back to you, sending my very heart. 13I would have been glad to keep him with me, in order that he might serve me on your behalf during my imprisonment for the gospel, 14but I preferred to do nothing without your consent in order that your goodness might not be by compulsion but of your own free will. 15For this perhaps is why he was parted from you for a while, that you might have him back forever, 16no longer as a slave but more than a slave, as a beloved brother—especially to me, but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord. 17So if you consider me your partner, receive him as you would receive me. 18If he has wronged you at all, or owes you anything, charge that to my account. 19I, Paul, write this with my own hand: I will repay it—to say nothing of your owing me even your own self. 20Yes, brother, I want some benefit from you in the Lord. Refresh my heart in Christ. 21Confident of your obedience, I write to you, knowing that you will do even more than I say. Philemon 1,10-21 (ESV)

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

(Thanks again to Edit-O-Earl!)

“Other’s can err but we don’t allow ourselves the same privilege.” That’s a phrase from a sermon by a Rabbi named Daniel Roberts. It’s not really all that profound, but it is very true, especially for all you perfectionists out there. You will really understand what the Rabbi is saying. Even those who are not perfectionists know a lot about making mistakes, because our lives are full of them. A famous Bishop once said, “I saw a man this week that hasn’t made a mistake in 4000 years.” He was talking about a 4000 year old mummy. It’s only dead people who don’t make mistakes. In fact, one definition of death is: “To stop sinning, suddenly.” We are not so lucky; we make mistakes all the time. And we hate it when it happens. It’s bad enough to make a mistake but worse when we make a public one that everyone knows about. When we make them, we are usually pretty hard on ourselves doing it.

I’ve made my share of mistakes. I remember when I was little. I wanted to make a good impression on the kids at my new school. We were playing softball, and I was third base. I missed an easy grounder right to me; you know the kind practically hit my glove and slipped right between the legs. I hung my head in disgust, forgetting that there was a runner advancing round the bases. He made it all the way home while I moped trying to show deep remorse. I doubled up on my mistake, because I was trying to show how upset I was at missing the ball.

Do you remember that show the The Apprentice. One of the guys there made a big mistake. (Actually, I think Donald Trump seized on it more for ratings than anything else!) He was offered immunity from being eliminated. But thinking he had done a great job and was safe from getting fired by Trump he turned it down. Donald Trump was flabbergast and fired him. As the young man was leaving the room he said, “I’ll not make that mistake again.” Because of a silly mistake he’s now out of the running for the coveted job.

We don’t often make life-changing mistakes. Most of the time they are of no real consequence to us, we hear ourselves saying that tell-tale word “oops.” But occasionally we make a whopper, a mistake that we can’t correct, one that really makes a difference in our lives. You know the kind: The big ones that are life changing, we may say “oops” when they happen, but the word doesn’t really cover the serious nature of them.

That’s what happened to a man named Onesimus. He made a mistake, his big mistake. His mistake is the reason why Paul wrote the letter to Philemon that is our text today. In a way, Onesimus is like the “Prodigal Son.” It seems (in as much as we can guess) that he was a slave who ran away from his master, Philemon, and may have even stolen something in the process. The punishment for what he had done was death. For slaves in the Roman Empire crucifixion was the most common way to carry out a death sentence. We don’t know why Onesimus ran; he may have wanted to see the world, or he may just have wanted to get away, but he ended up in Rome. When he discovered that a life of running away wasn’t all it was cracked up to be; it is thought that he went looking for Paul, who was in prison courtesy of the Roman government. Under house arrest. Paul was Philemon’s good friend. He had founded the church at Colossae. Where Philemon lived. Onesimus must have known Paul was in Rome, so he went to see if he could help him.

Paul does help, what he does is nothing less than Christ-like. He sends Onesimus back with a letter to Philemon asking that he (Paul) be charged for anything that is owed. Implying that Onesimus should be forgiven for running and even sent back to Paul to continue working with him. Martin Luther said that we are all like Onesimus, runaway slave. Jesus saves us from the punishment we so rightly deserve. “Receive him as you would receive me,” Paul wrote to the Onesimus’ master. Sounds a lot like Jesus words, “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.” Matthew 25:40 (ESV)

There are two ways that people usually handle their mistakes, both the big ones and the small ones. There is the guilt route. You know that our society doesn’t really tolerate mistakes. Mistakes are seen as weak and foolish things we do that cost us. Mistakes are illogical and stupid. Just look at the ex-apprentice. Donald Trump must have called him stupid a dozen times. Oh sure, he learned from the mistake, but I wonder how long it will be before he’s hired, how long it’s going to be till he’s not known as the guy who made the “big stupid mistake” on television. When that’s the way we see life, when that’s the pressure that’s put on us, it’s no wonder that our teenagers suffer from a very high suicide rate. Our reaction when we make those dreaded mistakes is to go into automatic depression, like me when I hung my head after missing the ball. We are pushed toward self-revaluation. They cause us to re-consider our self worth. Others can err, but we don’t allow ourselves the same privilege. We hold ourselves accountable our whole life… and even beyond. And even when things seem to be going really well, we dredge up our past errors, to temper our luck. We carry our mistakes as a burden, slung over our shoulders like a big sack. That’s the guilt trip we lay on ourselves with our mistakes. And, at one time or another we’ve all been there.

And yet there’s another way to take that sentence. Others can err, but we don’t allow ourselves the same privilege. Mostly, when we run up against a mistake, we push it off on someone else. Call it the blame game. The more serious the error the more fingers we try to point away from ourselves. “If all else fails, blame someone else!” That kind of blame game has been going on since the very beginning. When God walked into the garden after Adam and Eve ate the fruit from the forbidden tree, he asked Adam, “What did you do?” “Hey,” the man answered, “the woman gave me the fruit. It’s her fault. And you know that it never would have happened if you hadn’t put her here.” And God asked her, “What have you got to say, Eve?” “It was the snake, he fooled me.” She answered. Adam tried to reflect the blame to Eve and God. Eve blamed the snake. God laid the blame squarely where it belonged, on both of them.

The reason we fret over our mistakes or try to give them to someone else is because we know what they really mean. Often, we say, “Nobody’s perfect.” And that’s true. We are not perfect. Adam and Eve were, at first. They made more than a big mistake. It was a life-or-death issue. They willfully disobeyed God. They purposely defied his place in their lives. They followed their own desires and did the only thing God told them not to do. They condemned the whole human race to the same mistake, the same rebellion, and the same punishment. We talked about Onesimus running away from his master. And the penalty was death. Being a slave, he may have had reason to run away. We don’t have good reason to reject God. And yet we do. Every day we try to make it on our own and ignore him. If Onesimus had been caught he would have died on a cross. The punishment we deserve is no less than that. That’s what our mistakes continually remind us of. It’s not that God punishes us for our little flubs. We make mistakes because we aren’t the people that he created us to be. We don’t live up to the perfection that God has every right to expect from us. The punishment we should get is death.

In his letter to Philemon, Paul takes up Onesimus’ cause. Onesimus had made a mistake, a dangerous one. Paul could have appealed to Philemon on his authority as an apostle, in fact, as Philemon’s Pastor. But instead, he chooses to present his case through love. He never tells Philemon what he should do. He just reminds Philemon of the special relationship they have. “Don’t forget that you really owe me your very self.” As if to say, “Jesus came into your life through me.” Paul doesn’t say, “Forgive Onesimus, free him, and send him back to me.” Instead, he says, “I want you to do what you believe is right, based on your relationship with me, and mostly on your relationship with Jesus.” What kind of a relationships were those? Here are a few things Paul had said before that he may have wanted Philemon to think about:

"God demonstrates His love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

“Christ Jesus came into this world to save sinners--of whom I (Paul) am the worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display His unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on Him and receive eternal life."

That was the background of their relationship to each other, and their relationship with Jesus. Of course, we should remember that Onesimus’ mistake wasn’t just a little one, like a secretary’s typo. It was a serious problem. It was potentially fatal. It wouldn’t be an easy thing to set aside. Philemon is asked to ignore the fact that he has a houseful of potential runaway slaves. Forgiving and forgetting is a dangerous precedent to set. But, of course, forgiveness is never easy.

Paul didn’t expect Philemon to forgive Onesimus’ mistake because he felt like forgiving him. He expected him to do it because God had already taken care of it; and not only that but because God had taken care of Philemon’s mistakes, too. He assumes that he will forgive, because he too, had been forgiven. He assumes that because God has been gracious with him, he will be gracious with his slave. Paul told Philemon to charge him for whatever Onesimus owed, and he would pay it. It was a reminder to Philemon that Jesus had already done that very thing for him.

We deal with our mistakes in different ways, but God deals with them in only one way. He dealt with our mistakes, our sin, in the death of Jesus. The cross that Onesimus deserved for running away was the cross that Jesus took. The death that we deserve for our rebellion is the death that Jesus took. Jesus died to forgive the sins of Onesimus and Philemon and Paul, of you and me, and to take care of the mistakes that we all make. We don’t have to carry them around anymore. They don’t have to trouble us to our graves. We don’t have to blame other people either. We can take the blame ourselves and remember that Jesus went to the cross and died for those mistakes too. We’ve been forgiven much. We can take those things that trouble us and give them to Jesus.

And even more importantly, when someone makes a mistake that hurts us, that costs us. We remember that we have been forgiven much. You know the largest room in the world is room for improvement. Forgive as you have been forgiven. Amen.

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

Isaiah 66:10-14; The Third Sunday after Pentecost; August 24, 2025

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN

“Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad for her, all you who love her; rejoice with her in joy, all you who mourn over her; that you may nurse and be satisfied from her consoling breast; that you may drink deeply with delight from her glorious abundance.” For thus says the LORD: “Behold, I will extend peace to her like a river, and the glory of the nations like an overflowing stream; and you shall nurse, you shall be carried upon her hip, and bounced upon her knees. As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you; you shall be comforted in Jerusalem. You shall see, and your heart shall rejoice; your bones shall flourish like the grass; and the hand of the LORD shall be known to his servants, and he shall show his indignation against his enemies.” (Isaiah 66:10–14, ESV)

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

It began as barley a whisper… a faint sound at the very edge of perception… no one in the house even stirred… except mother. From the very first, before any sound at all had filled the ears of anyone else… she awoke crawled out of bed and began the trek to her infant’s room. So, by the time he was in full cry, with a voice much more than someone his size should be able to shout, mother was already crib side. Quickly she raised the infant to her arms, “Hey Billy, what’s the matter?” She said quietly, as she gathered him to herself. At first, he was inconsolable, and his screams echoed through the whole house. They filled the ears of his brothers and sisters, who muffled the sound with arms, blankets or pillows in an attempt to return to their dreams. But soon quiet was again restored as the rocking chair and the sweet sound of mother voice brought infant comfort. He was safe and warm, there in his mother’s arms, satisfied and at peace.

Oh, to be at peace… like a little child in its mother’s arms, satisfied at rest, warm and content…. at peace. But as much as peace is desired it, peace is seldom found. Maybe that’s why this image of peace is so powerful for us, because we seldom know this kind of peace when we are no longer able to lie in our mother’s arms… when we have grown too large to be cuddled there. There are other moments of peace in our lives, standing on a quiet beach listening to the waves rush the shore; Being alone in the forest when all is quiet except the sounds of nature; Sitting beside the bed of a sleeping child listening contentedly to the shallow echoes of breath. But, moments of peace are few, because the world, this world that we live in, is a world of conflict.

A world of conflict… every day in the newspaper you can read about war somewhere around the globe. War is the same everywhere. There are two groups of people in conflict. They have determined that their conflict is so great that the only means of resolution is the violent death of the other party. They have determined that the only resolution is to disrupt the peace… to arm themselves with the tools of death. Many people would say that the exact opposite of peace is war. When the images of war explode onto the news, the comfort of our mother’s arms is very inviting.

But conflict isn’t just found between nations at war. We find it even in the smallest communities. In fact, any gathering of people is often marked by disagreement that often disrupts the peace. Do we build a swimming pool or not? Should the cult group be allowed to build a compound? Should there be a group home in my neighborhood? Should taxes be raised or cut… but it isn’t just government? There is conflict where we work… a co-worker we don’t like… a manager that won’t allow time off, or demands overtime… Work that builds up so much you are afraid to take time off… Conflict also lives in our homes… family decisions are marred by arguments and unhappy resolutions. What household has children that don’t fight, and parents who are always forgiving? What man and wife have never fought about family finances? Conflict is laced in every aspect of our lives… our families, friendships, and even our Church. Disharmony is everywhere it affects every relationship we have. But not all the conflict is external. Many people have an internal struggle that far outweighs the discord between people. Internal struggle can fracture the human psyche. The wounds it can cause are even more devastating than disagreements between people. We all experience some of that disunity. We all struggle to do what we know is right and avoid what we know is wrong. Saint Paul described the struggle so well For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing.” (Romans 7:14–19, ESV)

When we think of these conflicts it is no wonder, we long for the comfort of our mother’s arms. That place where we can be comforted, safe from conflict, safe from trouble, and at peace.

All the disunity between nations, people, families, individuals, and even the internal struggles of people are really a sign, a window to an even greater more devastating division. Conflict, internal and external, is an image of the most serious human problem. All human beings have cut themselves off from God by their own sin. We are fractured people who are determined to conflict with the very one who made us, the one who designed us for a relationship with him. We have conflict with others, we can’t get along with other people; we conflict with ourselves; because we can’t get along with God. That is the real source of conflict in our lives.

This is where this image, given to us in our text, comes in. God says he will comfort us, brings us peace, like a mother does with her child. “I will extend peace like a river… as a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you.” He extends his arms around us, pulls us to his breast where we are warm, safe and secure. There we find peace. There we find comfort. He ended the conflict with us, because we didn’t want to end it with him. For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” (Isaiah 9:6, ESV)

It is amazing and somewhat ironic that the one who God sent to restore peace to the world, the prince of peace, restored our fractured relationship, our conflict, by means of a violent death. He endured internal and external conflict on the cross as he was rejected by the Father in our place. The separation that our sinful nature desired; the conflict we wished; for was focused on Jesus Christ. He endured it all instead of us. And because of that he brought about peace between us and our Heavenly Father. But this peace is more than just a peaceful, tranquil feeling. It’s more than a feeling of contentment that even unbelievers can feel. Jesus brings a peace the is a peace that exists even when we are in conflict. It’s a peace that exists even when we don’t feel peaceful.

The peace that Christ brings is like the peace between two warring parties. He declares the hostilities cease. But when peace is declared sometimes the sides don’t want to end the fighting. Because we still have the effects of sin in our lives, we don’t always want God’s peace. We struggle against it. But the war is over, Jesus Christ has won it and he has declared the peace. It is a peace that passes all our understanding. When we feel it, when we experience that peaceful feeling like we are wrapped in the Father’s arms we rejoice; but it is just as true when we don’t feel it. We are still even then, because of Christ, at peace with God.

God doesn’t promise that Christians won’t have conflict in their lives. Christians just like all people will have internal and external struggles. But God, through Jesus Christ, has done something about the most serious conflict. Because of Jesus suffering and death on the cross we are no longer in conflict with God. Because suffered the separation of that conflict we can enjoy the comfort the peace. That peace, whether we feel it or not, affects our whole lives. Our relationships to our families… our relationships to our friends… our relationships at work... Our relationships to our community. That peace earned for us through the death of Christ, has given us peace with God and has opened the way for us to be at peace with others.

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.” (Colossians 3:15, ESV)

Billy sleeps quietly in his mother’s arms. He is at peace, comforted by his mother. The noise of discord is all but forgotten. She had come and brought him comfort. He is safe and warm; he is at peace.

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

Jeremiah 23:29; The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost; August 17, 2025;

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN;

Is not my word like fire, declares the Lord, and like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces?” (Jeremiah 23:29, ESV)

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

When I was young, I saw a movie with Paul Neuman. Cool Hand Luke. It was a good movie, if not a bit controversial. Luke is shown working on a road chain gang breaking rocks under the hot sun. The trope is similar in many movies. The convict is given a hammer and told to break rocks. The task is daunting. Strike after strike the stone is pummeled, with no visible result. Suddenly after fifteen or so the rock shatters. But it wasn’t the last one that did the trick. Every strike weakened the structure of the stone until it bursts into pieces. Jeremiah says that’s how God’s Word works. It isn’t always a sudden strike of lighting that converts a person, but the effect over time. But it does work. That’s God’s promise.

In Jeremiah’s time, around the 6th and 7th Century BC, false prophets were proclaiming that everything would be just fine. Even though Israel was continually threatened by Babylon. From verse 17:

They say continually to those who despise the word of the LORD, ‘It shall be well with you.’ (Jeremiah 23:17, ESV)

The prophets proclaimed security, prosperity, and God’s blessing. Even for those who had rejected God.

But, through Jeremiah, God made it clear. The dreams and visions were false. They contradicted God’s clear true word of his prophet. They were counterfeit when they said, “you will have peace.” Jeremiah told them it was different, and he suffered for his proclamation.

We see it today in the church. False prophets preach that you can see God’s blessing by external standards. If you are blessed with money or fame, if you feel good with your life and success you are obviously pleasing God. It bleeds in from the culture. Impressive work, visible goodness all equals God’s favor.

In fact, you can’t impress God with good works. Despite what our modern false prophets say. Good works are a result of faith; faith doesn’t grow because you do them. You can’t tell how God feels about you by physical blessings. God uses them for the benefit of all people. The only way to please God it through faith in Jesus Christ.

And without faith it is impossible to please [God] (Hebrews 11:6a, ESV)

It is the sin of pride that tells us we can work our way into God’s good graces.

The Law is a hammer, Jeremiah says. It breaks apart the “rock” of pride in us. It destroys self-righteousness. It destroys the delusion of our false self-religion. We don’t like it. It destroys our delusions that good works do anything for our relationship to God.

There are two men. One man, an unbeliever, builds a hospital wing for children with cancer out of real compassion. Another man, a Christian, builds one to impress his wife. The world crowns the unbeliever the better man. But God looks for faith. Without faith it is impossible to please Him. With faith, even flawed works are covered in Christ’s righteousness. God sees it differently. In the final judgement the one without faith only receives God’s anger. “You have rejected my Son, get away from me.” And to the believer, “Your motives where sinful, but you are covered by the robe of righteousness won for you by my son. Enter the joy of your master. Well done, good and faithful servant.” Or simply from God’s own word,

And without faith it is impossible to please [God] (Hebrews 11:6a, ESV)

And in faith, it is impossible not to please God.

The two men above reminds us that what seems good to the world isn’t worth anything in pleasing God. It is only faith. As Swedish Lutheran bishop and author Bo Gierts put it, the human heart is a rusty tin can on a junk heap, we are rescued only by God’s mercy.

This reminds me of the words of Bo Giertz, a Swedish Lutheran bishop and pastor. In his novel The Hammer of God, he paints a picture of what our hearts really are… In the booka young pastor says, “I have given Jesus my heart.” The older pastor responds,

Do you consider that something to give Him? The heart is a rusty old can on a junk heap… But a wonderful Lord passes by, has mercy, sticks His cane through it, and takes it home with Him. That is how it is.

The hammer of God’s law crushes that illusion, that we have anything of worth to offer God. The reality is quite different. We are a rusty tin can, we are rescued completely by grace.

The Hammer of God hurts, and we don’t like it. It smashes our idols, our moral comparisons, and our “good works” that we try to use as a bargaining chip with God. It exposes the truth about sin. It is much worse than we think. It is totally corrupting. Charles Spurgen, the noted preacher put it this way.

If any man thinks ill of you, do not be angry with him, for you are far worse than he thinks you to be. Charles Spurgen.

Enter Jesus. He picks up the rusty tin can with his can and takes it home. It is a recuse from a hopeless situation. He forgives through his life, death on the cross, and his resurrection. You can do nothing to save yourself, any more than the tin can can remove itself from the junk heap. Forgiveness is the key. It is why he came. It is why he taught. It is why he allowed himself to be crucified. He takes our sin, all of it, and that punishment we deserve for our sin, on himself. His death is the only way it could be done. Any other way denies the total corruption of sin. Any other way denies our hopelessness, without Jesus.

The hammer of God, his law, hurts, but don’t be afraid of it. Cherish it. When his law confronts your sin, it is God’s mercy at work. It shows us our sin. It is necessary to see how helpless we are so that we depend more on the work of Jesus. That’s what faith is, depending totally on Jesus for our salvation. In faith, then, we can live in thankful freedom. Knowing that our sin won’t keep us from God. Good works follow faith. They serve our neighbors in need. And God is pleased when they do just that. The law keeps us from holding up our sin filled works as a way to please him.

God’s Word is a hammer, a necessary one. Our hearts are stone that must be broken. There is nothing good in them, and we need that delusion shattered. But once the stone is broken, Christ steps in with His cross. He lifts the rusty tin can of our lives from the garbage heap, not because of what we bring, but because of His mercy. On the cross He bore every sin—yours, mine, the whole world’s—and in His resurrection He secured the victory no one can take away. Faith in Jesus isn’t about what you do for Him; it is about what He has already done for you. On the cross it is finished, and in Him your salvation is certain. Amen.

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

Hebrews 1:1-2; The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost; August 10, 2025;

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN;

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. (Heb 11.1-2, ESV)

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

There once were two scientists who took a trip up a mountain. When they were there they discovered a baby eagle who had either lost its parents or been abandoned by them. They wanted to help the chick, but the only problem was that the eagle was on a ledge below the top of a very dangerous cliff. They asked the son of their guide if they could let him down by their rope to save it, he refused even when they offered him a large sum and quickly doubled the reward. But it was useless to argue he just wouldn’t do it. “Well, what do you propose we do to save the chick?” one of the men finally asked. “I’d be glad to rescue the bird for nothing if you let my dad hold the rope.” He said. Now no one would say that the boy lacked faith. The truth was he had great faith in his father, but he had no reason to trust the scientist. They had not built a basis for faith in the short time he had known them.

Our texts today are all about faith. And the common thread that seems to run through them is Abraham. Whenever the topic of faith comes up Abraham’s name is sure to be mentioned. But when we look at the Old Testament lesson closely we see that even this man of great faith had his doubts. That’s one of the great things about the bible. Even the heroes are real people like you and me. We can realize that if great men of faith had doubts, it should be well understood that we will have doubts too. Really what kind of faith did Abraham have? What was it about his faith that was so strong? I think we see it most clearly in an event that happened just after our OT Text and is talked about a few verses after the end of the Epistle lesson.

By faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises was in the act of offering up his only son, of whom it was said, “Through Isaac shall your offspring be named.” He considered that God was able even to raise him from the dead, from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back.

The story it self is given to us in Genesis 22.

After these things God tested Abraham and said to him, “Abraham!” And he said, “Here am I.” He said, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.” So Abraham rose early in the morning, saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him, and his son Isaac. And he cut the wood for the burnt offering and arose and went to the place of which God had told him. On the third day Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw the place from afar. Then Abraham said to his young men, “Stay here with the donkey; I and the boy will go over there and worship and come again to you.” And Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and laid it on Isaac his son. And he took in his hand the fire and the knife. So they went both of them together. And Isaac said to his father Abraham, “My father!” And he said, “Here am I, my son.” He said, “Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” Abraham said, “God will provide for himself the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” So they went both of them together. When they came to the place of which God had told him, Abraham built the altar there and laid the wood in order and bound Isaac his son and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. Then Abraham reached out his hand and took the knife to slaughter his son. But the angel of the Lord called to him from heaven and said, “Abraham, Abraham!” And he said, “Here am I.” He said, “Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for now I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me.” And Abraham lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, behind him was a ram, caught in a thicket by his horns. And Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son. So Abraham called the name of that place, “The Lord will provide”; as it is said to this day, “On the mount of the Lord it shall be provided.” And the angel of the Lord called to Abraham a second time from heaven and said, “By myself I have sworn, declares the Lord, because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, I will surely bless you, and I will surely multiply your offspring as the stars of heaven and as the sand that is on the seashore. And your offspring shall possess the gate of his enemies, and in your offspring shall all the nations of the earth be blessed, because you have obeyed my voice.”(Genesis 22:1-18, ESV)

Here is Abraham, the traveling man. He has no real place to call his own. He has no real place that he calls home. He has no connection to his past, his ancestors. God has already effectively taken that away. "Leave your country, your people and your father's household and go to the land I will show you.” (Gen 12:1 NIV) that’s what God said to him and Abraham obeyed. God promised him he would be the father of a great nation, as many as the stars in the sky. But the stars didn’t even begin to come until Abraham was over 100 years old. And all along the way God had to continually remind him that his promises were still true. Abraham waited patiently. Finally, Isaac was born. His name means “laughter” maybe that has something to do with a new born baby in the care of an old man and old woman.

Now though, just after God seems to be making good on his promise He says to Abraham, “take this son… this only son, this one you’ve waited for so long, and go far away, a three-day walk, about forty miles. Kill him and offer him as a burnt offering. As you can imagine this is a real dilemma for Abraham. All of God’s promises are wrapped up in Isaac. God promised that his family would be as many as the stars in the sky. He promised that Isaac was the beginning of that promise. But the promise can only be true if Isaac is actually alive to have children. It would seem that God intends to bring Abraham to nothing at all. He will be a hopeless man with no past and no future. Still, in spite of what it seems, faithful Abraham takes no time to decide; in fact, his actions seem very deliberate. The account written for us here in the bible is very detailed. The scene is set in at daybreak. The donkey is saddled, the servants are gathered, wood for the sacrifice is cut, the ‘sacrifice’ is retrieved from bed, and off they go together on their three-day trek.

Finally, the destination is in view, the mountain of the sacrifice, the place where God has directed them. Here is where we see Abraham’s faith. He says something amazing to the servants. “You servants stay here,” he begins, “we will go to worship, and we will return to you.” In this statement we see what Abraham is thinking. He sees God’s test, he understands what God is saying, he believes in God’s promises. God promised that his descendents would come through Isaac he believed that that is how it will happen. No matter what happened on that mountain, Isaac would be returning with him. Here is the point that we really see what this test is all about, here already see the test and we see that Abraham has passed it. We see that Abraham has faith in God because God has already shown himself to be faithful. Abraham’s faith allows him to risk everything. That is what’s at stake here for him. Isaac’s life is the key to the promises God has made to Abraham. What God is asking through this test is this “do you believe in the promises or not.” Abraham believes… he has pushed aside hopelessness. The test is really already over. God could have sent them home, but something more needed to be done. God is about to show just how faithful he can be. Abraham goes through the motions. Isaac carries the wood; he carries the fire and the knife. He builds the altar; one eye on heaven, waiting for the sign to stop. He carefully arranges the wood, waiting for God to call it off. He turns to Isaac, binds him… places him on the alter… he takes the knife… raises it in the air… his muscles tense… pausing one more moment… then… at that frozen moment…

“Abraham! Abraham!”

“Here I stand.” He says. “I am right here, exactly where You’ve asked me to be, standing in faith knowing that it is not hopeless, knowing that you have not forgotten me, knowing that even if this knife takes my his son’s life Your promises are still true.“

“Do not harm the boy.” The angel replies. “The test is over.”

Here at the point of death, at the very knife-edge of the sacrifice, Abraham’s faith stands firmly in God’s faithfulness. Here Abraham stands firmly on the promises of God. That is what it means to have faith, to trust in God’s promises no matter how hopeless it seems. Abraham knew God would save Isaac; when he looked around he found that God had provided a replacement. Isaac’s replacement was more than just the ram caught in the brush. It was the seal in blood of the promises of God. It was the sure sign of God’s faithfulness.

I know what you are thinking… I know what you are saying to yourself… I just don’t have the kind of faith that can stand up in those situations. I just don’t have the faith moves mountains; the faith that survives the testing of God; Others have it, but not me… I don’t have what it takes to act in faith like Abraham did. I have character flaws. I have issues; a past that I can’t forget. I have sins that just won’t leave me.

Dear Christians, I’m here today to tell you that you do have that kind of faith. You have the same faith as Abraham had. Who was Abraham before God called him? He was no one special, he was an ordinary man who had his own share of doubts. When God called him he simply did what God asked. Not because Abraham was someone special, but because God is faithful. His faith grew because God tested him. He is an example to us not because of who he was or what he did, but because of what God did in him and who God is. Abraham had faith because God was faithful.

Whenever we worship we declare our faith in the one who is faithful. We take the time to recite the creed where we say, “I believe in God the Father Almighty… I believe in Jesus Christ, his only son… I believe in the Holy Spirit…” We confess the faith of our fathers; we confess the faith of Abraham. Just like Isaac’s replacement ram was God seal of his promises to Abraham. We have the blood of Jesus, which is the seal of God’s promise in his own blood. It is the seal of sins forgiven. Our Lord carried our sins to the top of a mountain, the knife of death was raised over him, but no angel came to stop it. He died and took the punishment for our sins as our replacement. He is faithful to do just as he promised. Here we are standing firmly in that promise. Just like Abraham our faith is tested. Our lives are filled with knife-edge events. Death creeps in unexpectedly and we are left lonely, afraid and hurting. The loss of a job brings a loss of independence, and doubt. The old way of doing things just doesn’t seem to work anymore and we can’t seem to get a hold on the new way. At work, at home, in the shop, the hospital and the funeral home, right where we are brought face to face with hopelessness, God asks “Do you believe in My promises, or not?”

It is at those knife-edge where we stand with no hope of our own that faith grows the most. Where human effort and reason fails… where there is no holding on to the past and nothing to look for in the future… where there is nowhere else to stand, we stand in faith, depending on the one who is faithful. Just like Abraham we say, “Here I stand, right where you want me to be. Trusting in your promises.” Faith like that doesn’t come to us because of who we are or what we have done; just like Abraham, it comes to us because of what God has done and who he is. We have faith in Him because He is faithful.

When the testing is over, on the drive home from the funeral, walking away from the hospital bed, remembering the words of comfort and healing, when there is no threatening knife, we realize that our faith has grown. We see that we have come even closer to God than we thought possible. He has shown himself to be faithful once again, and more than ever before we believe in his promises.

Amen. The Peace that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Colossians 3:1-11; The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost; August 3, 2025;

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN;

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming. In these you too once walked, when you were living in them. But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.” (Colossians 3:1–11, ESV)

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

I blame the refrigerator. I put stuff in, and it goes bad. It’s supposed to keep it for later, but later never seems to come. When I finally get around to wanting it, it’s bad. The drawer in there that’s called the vegetable crisper, is really a vegetable rotter. The mold in some of the containers has become self-aware. I moved a container of milk to get a Dr. Pepper, and it said “Excuuuse me!” I’ve taken to asking some of the containers questions, like I ask Alexa. In some cases, they know more. Last night, I was awakened from sleep by a racket in the fridge, like the mold and rotten milk heard it was Fisherman’s Picnic and were partying like tourists.

If you want a clean refrigerator, you must clean it out. You must get rid of the old stuff, either by keeping up with eating leftovers, or you’ve got to throw it out, you’ve got to put the rotten stuff “to death”.

It is true in your Christian life. That’s what Paul is talking about here. He is talking about living a baptismal life.

For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. (v3)

He’s building on what he said in Chapter 2.

…having been buried with Him in baptism, in which you were also raised with Him… (Col 2:12-13, ESV)

And in Romans,

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death? (Romans 6:3, ESV)

Being baptized into Christ, means that that Old Adam, your sinful nature, has been killed, drowned to death. You have been crucified with Christ.

He gives an example in himself,

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. (Galatians 2:20, ESV)

If Paul is correct (and he is!), he is telling us what it means to live a baptismal life, a Christian life. “Put on the new self!”, Live life as a Baptized child of God. Being a Christian means that Christ on the cross is the power and pattern for transformation from the old self, to the new one.

It’s a bit like cleaning out my fridge. It’s not hard to tell what needs to go. God’s law, his Word, identifies what is sinful. You’ve heard that before. The law shows us our sin, like looking in a mirror, when you look into it you see your zits, blemishes and bad hair. When you open a container in the fridge, if a bad smell fills the kitchen, you know it’s bad.

Paul makes a list;

sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry

Christians recognize all these as works of Satan and his worldly forces. But the sins of the flesh are not always so big. From CS Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters.

“You will say that these are very small sins … But do remember, the only thing that matters is the extent to which you separate the man from [the Enemy] God. … Murder is no better than cards … Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one—the gentle slope…”

Paul is warning that unchecked sins, small and great, are a pathway away from the Christian life toward God’s just judgement. It is a fair warning, because we are all still living in our sin.

The cross shows us just how serious sin in our lives is. Our sinful nature can’t be defeated without a death. The Old Adam deserves death. He deserves hell. He deserves the wrath of God.

But there is more to the cross than only punishment. It is that surely. Christ is punished for the sins of our Old Adam. The cross is also our only means of salvation. On the cross Jesus takes our punishment. All of them, both small and great. Daily repentance is our means of returning to the cross. It is the reason why we begin most of our worship services with it. Listen to our confession again, listen for how broad it is, it covers sin that lives in our Old Adam, the Absolution points to the only means of his death.

Most merciful God, we confess that we are by nature sinful and unclean. We have sinned against You in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone. We have not loved You with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We justly deserve Your present and eternal punishment. For the sake of Your Son, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us. Forgive us, renew us, and lead us, so that we may delight in Your will and walk in Your ways to the glory of Your holy name. Amen.

Pastor: Almighty God, in His mercy, has given His Son to die for you and, for His sake, forgives you all your sins. As a called and ordained servant of Christ, and by His authority, I therefore forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the✠ Son and of the Holy Spirit.

It harkens back to your Baptism. We plead to God for forgiveness, because we have been baptized. And he answers, “you are forgiven.” It is exactly what Paul means when he says,

Consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus (v. 11).

The death of the self, the Old Adam, is spiritually real. It is based on God’s promises that are given to you in Holy Baptism.

Paul uses very specific language in our text. “put to death” νεκρώσατε (nekrōsate). It means to kill it dead, completely. He is talking about an active murder. He doesn’t say, manage it, or compromise with it. We see this in Christians who protect their pet sin by saying things like, “I know it’s wrong, but I also know God wants me to be happy.” The truth is you can’t do the killing. It isn’t something human beings can’t accomplish. It is accomplished by God through Holy Baptism and daily repentance. It happens daily through the work of the Holy Spirit’s work in the Word of God. From Romans 8(:13).

…if by the Spirit you put to death (θανατοῦτε) the deeds of the body, you will live. (Romans 8:13, ESV)

And in Galatians

Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. (Galatians 5:24, ESV)

The putting to death, the murder of the Old Adam happens at the cross and is propelled to Christians through our connection to Christ in Holy Baptism. And activated by daily repentance.

When Paul says, “put on” ἐνδύσασθε (endýsasthe) he is showing us the way. A literal definition is “sink into the garment”. You could say “sink into the water of Holy Baptism and the garment given”. He is suggesting a change of clothes. You have already been given the garment in your conversion to Christ, put it on every day!

Luther often describes the Christian life as wearing a Christ-like garment, a robe of righteousness. That is Jesus’ righteousness. And just like you put on clean cloths every day (or you should anyway), you do put on Christs’ robe of righteousness by returning to your Baptism every day.

The bad stuff in my fridge is my fault. There is no way around it. If you want a clean refrigerator, you must get rid of what’s bad. You must make room for more stuff to save for later. That’s the Christian life also. It’s your fault that sin lives in you. You can’t move forward toward a better life with all that bad stuff there. But there is a difference. I can clean out my fridge, it just takes stopping the procrastination. But you can’t remove the sin in your life. The Old Adam will be with you until you die. He will always push you away from God. But there is something you can do. You are doing it right now, right here. Open your ears and hear God’s Word of law and gospel. Listen when the law convicts you. Repent when you recognize the sin described as yours. Return to your baptism daily. Plead to God for forgiveness, he is faithful he will forgive.

And don’t forget. There is more you can do. When God makes his altar call, “This is my body… This is my blood….” Come to his supper and receive forgiveness, life and salvation. There is no better way to be sure that Jesus Christ died for you than to receive him through the bread and wine of Holy Communion.

The Word, the Water and the Bread and Wine are the Holy Spirit at work. He is removing your sin. He is prompting you to be better in your life. He cleans out your rottenness, your spoiled food. He is at work every day calling you to live in your Baptism. He is showing you, prompting you to serve your neighbor. And when you fail, he is there, not to condemn but to forgive, encourage and live in your Baptismal, Christian life. Amen.

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

Luke 14:1-14; The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost; July 27, 2025;

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN;

One Sabbath, when he went to dine at the house of a ruler of the Pharisees, they were watching him carefully. And behold, there was a man before him who had dropsy. And Jesus responded to the lawyers and Pharisees, saying, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath, or not?” But they remained silent. Then he took him and healed him and sent him away. And he said to them, “Which of you, having a son or an ox that has fallen into a well on a Sabbath day, will not immediately pull him out?” And they could not reply to these things. Now he told a parable to those who were invited, when he noticed how they chose the places of honor, saying to them, “When you are invited by someone to a wedding feast, do not sit down in a place of honor, lest someone more distinguished than you be invited by him, and he who invited you both will come and say to you, ‘Give your place to this person,’ and then you will begin with shame to take the lowest place. 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. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” He said also to the man who had invited him, “When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.”” (Luke 14:1–14, ESV)

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

A few weeks ago, when the Epistle reading was from Hebrews, you know, the faith chapter. It begins with

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. (Hebrews 11:1, ESV)

And then proceeds with the faith of the saints. Abel, Enoch, Noah, etc. I began to wonder what would the author have said about pride. So, I asked Chatgpt. Generate a “Hall of Faith” like Hebrews 11, that talks about pride instead. It wrote this:

Now pride is the assurance of self and the conviction of one’s own greatness.

By pride, Adam and Eve reached for the fruit, desiring to be like God, and they fell.

By pride, Cain offered a sacrifice from his hand without faith, and his anger consumed his brother.

By pride, the builders of Babel said, “Let us make a name for ourselves,” and the Lord scattered them.

By pride, Pharaoh hardened his heart against the Lord, though the plagues destroyed Egypt.

By pride, Saul grasped the throne, spared what God had cursed, and lost the kingdom.

By pride, Nebuchadnezzar declared, “Is not this great Babylon that I have built?” and he was driven to eat grass like an ox.

By pride, Haman built a gallows for Mordecai, but he himself was hanged upon it.

By pride, Herod arrayed himself in royal robes and received the praise of men as of a god, and he was struck down by the angel of the Lord.

By pride, the Pharisee prayed in the temple, boasting in himself, and he went home unjustified.

And what more shall I say? For time would fail me to tell of Absalom, of Sennacherib, of Jezebel, of Judas—who through arrogance sought their own way, trusted in their own strength, boasted in their own wisdom, were brought low, shamed, scattered, struck, and undone.

Of them the Scripture testifies: “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.”

Pride. It is the original sin. Nothing is more destructive. Nothing is more of an offence to God. Biblically speaking, from the examples above we see that (biblically speaking) pride always ends in being humbled.

Adam and Eve fell to pride. Satan said to them “You will be like God.” That would be good, we deserve that. It ended in there being expelled from the Garden. Cain killed his brother, Abel, because God accepted Abel’s sacrifice, but not Cain’s. “sin is crouching at your door.” (Gen 4:7b). God told him. Abel paid the price of Cain’s pride. I don’t deserve this. He was also exiled. Pharoah wouldn’t listen to Moses. He was too proud to accept the release of the Hebrews from Egypt. Plague after plague came upon Egypt, but Pharoah refused still, until God took his son. Kings, Prophets, Pharisees, and even the Apostles, all fell by pride. Scripture is a litany of people falling because of pride. The verdict is the same for all of them,

Pride goes before destruction (Prov. 16:18).

The Epistles give us more warnings about pride than anything else, except sexual sins. And it is apt. Pride is the basis for most of our issues with God. We compare ourselves to others. “At least I’m not like those people…” Sound familiar? “God, I thank you that I am not like other men…”. We think that we can try harder to increase our faith, as if discipline is the answer to sinning less. The Word tells us it grows by God’s grace through Word and sacrament. Pride hides in piety. Prayer falters, because we get comfortable. It only comes out in times of trouble and when we find ourselves in real need. It is pride that tells us we can depend on ourselves. It is pride that tells us that the validity of worship depends on our how we feel about it. “I don’t like that hymn” or “That sermon didn’t do much for me.” Worship is about what God gives through grace. It is a place where sinners receive forgiveness. Pride tells us we must feel something, or it isn’t working. The law is for other people, and we deserve to be saved. Oh, and don’t think Pastors are immune. I read an article that talked about pastors boasting about all the good things happening in their congregations instead of the troubles and challenges they are having. Pride pushes accomplishments against God’s Work, over time, that isn’t always seen.

All this pride in our lives, as pointed out clearly in Scripture, shows us that it isn’t just a problem of the Pharisee in Jesus’ parable. It is the insidious sin that fills even our Christian lives. It hides in the good things like piety, service, care, and competence. The Law makes our pride clear and accuses us. We are prideful, sinful, people.

Let’s face it. When you hear Jesus’ parable of the banquet, you put yourself in it. You think, “Ah, that’s how I get the recognition I deserve. I’ll slink to the lowest spot at the table and then the host will see me and lift me up to the highest.” After all it is what Jesus said to do. Humble yourself to be exalted. It is the so that, that is the problem. You should humble yourself, because it is the right thing to do, not for the reward. It is just hidden pride. You can’t help it. Pride will always get the better of you. But hear God’s warning:

Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled. Luke 14:11

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant… 1 Cor 13:4

The false teacher “is puffed up with conceit and understands nothing.” 1 Timothy 6:4

If anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself. Galatians 6:3

That’s the problem with the parables. We think they are about us (pride again), when they are really about Jesus. Jesus is the one who attends the banquet and puts himself in the lowest place. He humbles himself. He shows the greatest humility.

He was despised and rejected by men… one from whom men hide their faces. Isaiah 53:3

He humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Philippians 2:8

And God, sees his sacrifice and says to him, “Friend, come up higher!”

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, ESV)

Pride is insidious. You will struggle with it your whole life. It is the original sin. And what’s worse you can’t kill it. Only God can do that. Only death will finally kill the Old Adam who is prideful and wants nothing to do with humility.

But God doesn’t leave us in the terrible state. He offers forgiveness for your sinful pride. That’s where the word applies to you. Jesus reminds you that in Holy Baptism you are joined to his suffering and death. You are joined to his humiliation. You are raised up with him in his exaltation. You can’t even fathom what the resurrection will be like, when your sinful pride is finally defeated. It is so much a part of your everyday life that you can’t imagine life without it. When I got my first knee surgery, I couldn’t believe how much my knee had been hurting. I had become so used to the pain that when it was finally gone, I felt free. That’s what the resurrection will be like for you. You have become so used to your pride that when it is gone, you will feel utterly free.

The parable about the banquets tells us another thing. Jesus prepares a banquet. He doesn’t invite the proud, he invites those who have been humbled.

[Jesus] said also to the man who had invited him, “When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.

We can’t repay Jesus for what he has done for us on the cross. We can’t repay Jesus for what he will do for us in the resurrection. But you have an invitation to the feast. You certainly don’t deserve it. Jesus has overcome your pride, through his humility. He gives you forgiveness.

At his banquet, he looks down the table and he sees you. A poor, crippled, lame, blind, prideful sinful person. He has compassion on you and takes you by the hand. Through my cross and resurrection, I have saved you from your pride. I have saved you from your sin. Not because you have overcome it, but because I have. Come Beloved Friend, move up higher.

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 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 11:38-30, ESV)

Amen.

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

Genesis 18:17-33; The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost; July 27, 2025;

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN;

The Lord said, “Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do, seeing that Abraham shall surely become a great and mighty nation, and all the nations of the earth shall be blessed in him? For I have chosen him, that he may command his children and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing righteousness and justice, so that the Lord may bring to Abraham what he has promised him.” Then the Lord said, “Because the outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah is great and their sin is very grave, I will go down to see whether they have done altogether according to the outcry that has come to me. And if not, I will know.” So the men turned from there and went toward Sodom, but Abraham still stood before the Lord. Then Abraham drew near and said, “Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked? Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city. Will you then sweep away the place and not spare it for the fifty righteous who are in it? Far be it from you to do such a thing, to put the righteous to death with the wicked, so that the righteous fare as the wicked! Far be that from you! Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?” And the Lord said, “If I find at Sodom fifty righteous in the city, I will spare the whole place for their sake.” Abraham answered and said, “Behold, I have undertaken to speak to the Lord, I who am but dust and ashes. Suppose five of the fifty righteous are lacking. Will you destroy the whole city for lack of five?” And he said, “I will not destroy it if I find forty-five there.” Again he spoke to him and said, “Suppose forty are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of forty I will not do it.” Then he said, “Oh let not the Lord be angry, and I will speak. Suppose thirty are found there.” He answered, “I will not do it, if I find thirty there.” He said, “Behold, I have undertaken to speak to the Lord. Suppose twenty are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of twenty I will not destroy it.” Then he said, “Oh let not the Lord be angry, and I will speak again but this once. Suppose ten are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of ten I will not destroy it.” And the Lord went his way, when he had finished speaking to Abraham, and Abraham returned to his place.” (Genesis 18:17–33, ESV)

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

You know that Jesus intercedes for you, right? Do you understand how utterly amazing that is? At this very moment, the Lord of the Universe, the Crucified Son of God, sitting at the right hand of the Father, reigning over all things, is speaking your name to God, the Father. He isn’t distant. He is pleading for your faith. He is there before God, showing his justifying wounds pleading for you. When your words of prayer fail, when you are tired and harassed by the things of this world, when you don’t know what to say, he is praying for you. He is your advocate. He is your high priest. He is your brother. Despite all your sins, all your sorrow, all your doubt, all your selfishness, he pleads for you. If you could see what he is doing for you, right now, you would never doubt his love for you.

Let that sink in for just a moment.

When I was at the seminary, I took a class call “The History of the Christian Church”. We called it “The History of Heresy”. We went through history step by step, heresy by heresy, highlighting the churches’ failures, misinterpretations, errors, and downright lies. By the end of the class, we were wondering how the church ever survived. My professor, Rev. Ron Feuerhaun, seemed to understand how we were feeling. During a lecture highlighting a particularly heinous error, he stopped the lecture, walked around the podium and sat on the desk. The room fell silent. “Gentlemen,” he began, “Remember, the Lord is still praying for his church.” What he meant was, despite all the error, pain and suffering, Jesus is still interceding for his church.

Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. (Romans 8:34, ESV)

Consequently, He is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through Him, since He always lives to make intercession for them. (Hebrews 7:25)

Even a cursory look at the History of The Christian Church, bears out, that it has only survived because of Jesus’ intercession. Faithful Christians sin. Faithful Christians doubt. Faithful Christians push toward error. That is the constant struggle of the church. We bring our sin; Jesus brings his forgiveness. We are Saints and Sinners. Our sinful flesh would have us push out everything to do with God’s grace. Without his constant intercession on our behalf, the church would never grow. Keep that in mind as we move forward with our building project.

Jesus is our intercessor. There is no other. Roman Catholics try to use the Saints as intercessors, not replacing Christ, but using them as subordinate intercessors. From the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

The saints do not take Christ’s place. They do not answer prayers by their own power. But in their closeness to God, they lovingly pray for us—just as we lovingly pray for others on earth. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, summary of §§956–957)

This false idea doesn’t come from scripture, or even the books the Roman church sticks in between the testaments. It is a post-scriptural development. There is nothing in scripture that says the dead in Christ hear or even see anything on the sinful earth. The dead are cut off from the living.

For the living know that they will die, but the dead know nothing [of earth], and they have no more reward, for the memory of them is forgotten. (Ecclesiastes 9:5, ESV)

Grandma isn’t looking down on your life. If she did, she’d be appalled at your sin. If you think about it that’s a good thing. Grandma is enjoying the presence of Christ. No more sin. No more death. No more suffering.

The false teaching that the Saints intercede for us has led to an even greater sin. Just an example. Have you heard that if you bury a statue of Joseph upside down in your yard before you sell your house, he’ll be forced to help it sell (be sure to dig him up after the sale or he’ll curse you instead!)? The truth is, the carpenter, the step father of Jesus, Joseph, doesn’t know or much less care about your house.

So, how do we get here from our text today about Abraham bargaining with God? Well, Abraham is interceding for the sinners in Sodom and Gomorrah. He boldly asks if 50 faithful are found, would God destroy the city. God says he won’t if 50 are found. Then Abraham asks about 45, 40, 20 and 10. God relents at 10 and says he won’t destroy the city if he finds 10. Abraham is silent. He has pushed God as far as he can. So, why did Abraham stop at 10? Didn’t he know how many people were in Lot’s family? 10 seems like a small number for such large cities. Maybe he realized that even though his intercession was bold and faithful, it had a limit. He could not save the people of Sodom and Gomorrah. He could plead with God, but he could not save. He could ask, but righteousness was not his to give. Abrham was a friend of God, he spoke to him boldly on account of the people of the cities. But he isn’t the redeemer. Abraham stopped at 10, but Jesus doesn’t stop. He is the righteous one who saves, who gives his own righteousness freely. He is the one who pleads to the Father on account of the guilty, offering them (especially you and me!) that righteousness. Abraham plead his case; he was willing to speak very directly to God. Jesus is willing to die. On the cross Jesus pleads to the Father for sinners. His death there is the reason we are saved from hell. Abraham reflects God, although limited. Jesus is the very image of God in human flesh. Jesus is the more complete Abraham. Better. He is the only one.

So, what does that mean for us today? We have an advocate, a perfect advocate. You can see it in the history of the church. It is preserved because of Jesus. Century after century, heresy after heresy, corruption, persecution and weakness, the church still stands on the Word of God, protected by Christ himself.

Numbers don’t matter. 10, 20, or 33. The church lives in Christ, and for Christ. It isn’t us, it’s him. “Brothers, Jesus is still praying for his church!” He does it when we are too weary. He does it when everything seems to go wrong. He does it when our worship is weak, when our doctrine is confused, and our witness is tainted. Jesus Christ remains faithful. He doesn’t bargain. He paid the price for his church in blood.

And so, like Jesus, we plead to the Father for “the whole church of God and all people according to their needs.” It is because we are part of Christ. It is exactly what he does. And we are joyfully able to pray because he is the perfect advocate. We never pray alone. The Spirit interprets our feeble prayers. We have an advocate at the right hand of the Father. He is speaking to the Father for all those we pray for. And he is speaking your name, advocating for you, right now. Jesus has covered you in his robe of righteousness. You are his. Amen.

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

Genesis 18:1-14; The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost; July 20, 2025;

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN;

And the Lord appeared to him by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the door of his tent in the heat of the day. He lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, three men were standing in front of him. When he saw them, he ran from the tent door to meet them and bowed himself to the earth and said, “O Lord, if I have found favor in your sight, do not pass by your servant. Let a little water be brought, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree, while I bring a morsel of bread, that you may refresh yourselves, and after that you may pass on—since you have come to your servant.” So they said, “Do as you have said.” And Abraham went quickly into the tent to Sarah and said, “Quick! Three seahs of fine flour! Knead it, and make cakes.” And Abraham ran to the herd and took a calf, tender and good, and gave it to a young man, who prepared it quickly. Then he took curds and milk and the calf that he had prepared, and set it before them. And he stood by them under the tree while they ate. They said to him, “Where is Sarah your wife?” And he said, “She is in the tent.” The Lord said, “I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife shall have a son.” And Sarah was listening at the tent door behind him. Now Abraham and Sarah were old, advanced in years. The way of women had ceased to be with Sarah. So Sarah laughed to herself, saying, “After I am worn out, and my lord is old, shall I have pleasure?” The Lord said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘Shall I indeed bear a child, now that I am old?’ Is anything too hard for the Lord? At the appointed time I will return to you, about this time next year, and Sarah shall have a son.”” (Genesis 18:1–14, ESV)

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

Sarah was skeptical. And who could blame her. She was 89 years old. “The way of woman had ceased to be with her”. So, technically, it was impossible for her to have children. She laughed at having a son. God would call the child “He laughs”, Isaac, pointing to her doubt. “Is anything too hard for the Lord?” God indeed does what is impossible, notwithstanding Sarah’s doubts.

When you consider the context of the text, you can see how all this was set up. Abraham looks up and “suddenly” three men were standing before him. Abraham knew it was a special appearing of God. All at once they were there. His reaction says so. Abraham bowed down to the ground in worship. He offers them what he has. His actions were urgent; quickly ran to the tent to ask Sarah to prepare bread. He ran to the herd to get a calf to slaughter.

The contrast is quite strong. Mary and Martha like. Martha was busy with much service. Martha is busy in the tent. Mary was sitting a Jesus’ feet. Abraham is clinging to faith while he listens to the Lord. What Abraham saw, was God’s appearing, God’s presence with them. Did Martha just see three visitors?

In a way, you can’t blame her. God appeared in a plain ordinary way. Three travelers. There was no lightning, no thunder, no kings, no temple. Only a tree, a tent, a meal and a kitchen. But God was there, and he was there to offer Sarah a promise.

Where is Sarah your wife? She is in the tent.

God continues:

“I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife shall have a son.”

Sarah was skeptical. She laughs at the promise. Maybe it was all too simple. Maybe unlike her husband, she didn’t see God in the three visitors. But she laughs at the thought of having a son. God is faithful, just like he was to Martha.

Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her. Luke 10:42:

Is anything too hard for the Lord?

And God was faithful, even when Sarah doubted. He came with a word of promise, and Sarah hears it. She has a son of promise. Maybe she doubted from the outset of the promise 25 years earlier, or maybe her hope just faded. But until the baby was born, who could blame her.

So, here we sit, week after week, month after month, year after year. We come to hear God’s promises. We come to receive his forgiveness—won by Christ. It is delivered faithfully by God, even when we are faithless. We wait in weakness. We wait with doubts. There are distractions and even laughter at the idea that God could use our weak, little congregation to do anything. That he can bring life from bareness and joy from sorrow.

We sit here in our temporary space; the same space used for LGBT+ celebrations and speak our quiet words of God’s hope and promise. While our building project struggles at every step; red tape, shifting timelines, and unexpected delays. It’s enough to make us laugh like Sarah. It’s enough for us to ask the question Did God really want us to build?

We sit in doubt when our prayers go unanswered. Like Sarah, who must have thought that God had long forgotten about his promise of children like the stars of the sky. Family issues persist with no end in sight. A child that has gone astray. A brother or sister that refuses to be reconciled to us. Healing from a deep emotional wound. Prayers about our community, our country and the world seem to go unanswered. Natural disasters pile up, our prayer seems ineffective. Maybe he doesn’t hear my prayers. The doors seem closed. Has God forgotten about me?

But God is faithful. Not because we have a great vision. Not because we have made a great plan. Not because we are persistent in prayer, or not. Not because we are strong. But because he is faithful above all our doubts and all our sorrows and all our frustrations. The same Lord Jesus who comes to us faithfully every Sunday is the same Lord who sat beneath the oaks of Mamre. He comes to us in Word and Sacrament. He comes to us in preaching. He comes to us when, as he promised, we gather where two or three are gathered in his name. The same Lord who said, ‘I will return, and Sarah shall have a son,’ now says to us: ‘I am building My Church. I am with you always. Take and eat… given for you.’

Now, I want to speak very clearly here. Our church project doesn’t have a clear promise from God. In fact, after all that we do, it could still fail. Our church could fail. But even in the face of all that, God is still faithful. His promises are not tied our plans, our buildings or our budgets. God doesn’t promise we will always see the fruit of our prayers. The promises he makes to us are tied to Christ. He is not going anywhere. Even if we worship in a tent, even if we lose every earthly support, we still have everything—because we still have Him. Our hope is not in brick or wood, but in the cross and empty tomb. And that promise stands, even if everything else falls.

So, while the foundation still isn’t poured, we don’t look to our success. While we are frustrated with waiting on God to answer our prayers, we look to the cross. We come here because this is where we hear of God promises anew. The cross is where God’s promises are given and received in full. We look to what God does in his church, children are baptized, Christ’s body and blood are given, the Word is proclaimed in faithfulness. This is where we pray continually for the church, the world, our nation, and all people. And this is where we see it. This is why we gather, small as we are, week after week, month after month year after year. God’s promise is true. Is anything too hard for the Lord?

There are doubts. We are more like Sarah than we want to admit. But with those doubts we cling to the cross. Jesus tears down sin and death by sacrificing himself for us. He hung there—not in glory, but in weakness and shame and blood. He bears the curse of our failures. He bears our doubts. He bears our pride. He bears our sorrows. He bears our frustrations. He bears our fear. The cross is stronger than any human sin. The cross is stronger than any human frustration. The cross looks like failure, but it is where God is most at work. There he is as work for you and me. That is where we find our hope, no matter what happens. No matter how dark our lives get. No matter how frustrations cling to everything we do. Christ is still crucified for us. Christ is still risen for us. Christ is still here for us. Christ is still coming again to end all frustration, sin, fear, doubt and failure. And because of his promises, proven at the cross, it means we are still his beloved church. Amen.

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

Luke 10:25-37; The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost; July 13, 2025;

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN;

And behold, a lawyer stood up to put him to the test, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?” And he answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.” But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus said to him, “You go, and do likewise.”” (Luke 10:25–37, ESV)

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

There was a Fad in the church a few years ago (well in the 90s anyway). It has its origin in the 19 century (1800s). A pastor, Rev. Charles Sheldon, a congregationalist minister, wrote a book. “In His Steps: What Would Jesus Do?” In the book, the pastor says that anytime a Christian has a decision to make, he should ask the question: What Would Jesus Do? In the 90s, WWJD bracelets became popular among youth groups. The idea was to use Jesus as the best example of Christian living. If you do what Jesus would do, you’ll make the right decisions.

Jesus is certainly a great example to follow. From 1 Peter 2:21

Christ suffered for you, leaving you and example…

And 1 John 2:6

Whoever says he abides in Him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked.

Our Gospel reading for today seems to bear this out. The Lawyer asks, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus explains with the parable. A guy, a Jew presumably, is traveling and falls among thieves. He is left for dead beside the road. Two people pass by failing to help, the last helps. Be like this guy. Your neighbor is the guy God puts before that needs help to help.

But there is much more going on here than the simple reading. First of all, notice that the one asking the question is a lawyer. The two who pass by, the priest and the Levite (a pastor and a lawyer), are the ones the listeners would expect to help. The crowd would have been shocked. Pastors and Lawyers were highly respected for their knowledge of scripture. They were highly respected for their moral convictions. What’s up with that? They probably asked.

Jesus continues. “Then came a Samaritan. He has compassion on the man. He helps him.” This is another shock, bigger than the first. The Jews would have expected the story to go, “The Samaritan saw him on the side of the road and kicked him for spite. Such was the hatred between the Jews and the Samaritans. And the Samaritan wasn’t just helpful; he spent a fortune to see to the Jew was restored. You can tell the lawyer doesn’t like the conclusion. When Jesus asks,

Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?

He replies,

The one who showed him mercy.

He can’t even bear to say he was a Samaritan.

You go, and do likewise. Jesus says.

Implying that he should do the same for Samaritans. Jesus turns everything around on his listeners. He does what no one expects. Of course, the parable is about Jesus. He puts himself in place of the Samaritan, he saves us at great cost, giving his very life for our forgiveness. He beams forth as the ultimate example to follow.

But there is something more here: You are not the Samaritan in the story, you are the man at the side of the road. You can’t help yourself, you have been robbed, beaten by sin, and left for dead. The priest and the lawyer pass you by. They can’t save you, they won’t save you. Jesus, is the true and better Samaritan. He is despised by the world, but full of unexpected mercy. He binds your wounds. He pays the price for your sin. He heals with his own blood. He brings you into the church. The parable isn’t a call to try harder. It is about Christ who rescues you when you could do nothing.

There is an issue with WWJD. And it’s partially set out in this parable. The Samaritan, Jesus, does what no one would expect. All throughout his ministry he confused people by doing what no one expected. He spoke to a Samaritan woman, he touched lepers, he doesn’t condemn a woman caught in adultery and allows a sinful woman to anoint his feet. All of it is shocking. All of it is unexpected. And don’t forget, before you ask, ‘What Would Jesus Do?’ — remember that flipping tables and driving out corrupt religious leaders with a whip is on the list.

The fact is, what would Jesus do? Is often answered in the bible, he’d do only what he can do.

WWJD is law centered. It says we must act like Jesus. The burden is on the believer, not on the Holy Spirit’s work in them. Luther says,

The law says, ‘Do this,’ and it is never done. Grace says, ‘Believe in this,’ and everything is already done. Martin Luther, Heidelberg Disputation (1518)

And what has been done? Jesus, the law keeper, has kept the Law perfectly for you. He isn’t only our example, he is your substitute. On the cross, he hung with the guilt of you passing by people who needed help. Every time you fail to love. Every time you live for yourself.

If you have the wrong mindset, unbound to the work of Spirit and the Gospel, it leads to moralism, Christianity becomes about changing behavior.

Jesus is an example, but an impossible one. He is our savior, not our role model. He is first and foremost our atoning sacrifice for sin. We must always keep in mind, not what he would do, but what he did.

Christ is not merely a teacher and example, but a gift and present given us by God, so that we may be saved through Him. – Formula of Concord, SD III.41

The question WWJD subtly assumes that we can choose the right thing if we just try harder. It often sets aside the biblical truth the sin corrupts everything we are and do. We are saved sinners, yet still sinners until Jesus’ return or death. It is only the New Man, not the Old Adam, that even desires to do the right thing. The new creation lives alongside the sinful self. Sanctification is caused by the word working in our lives, not by our moral striving. We are so prone to shifting the thing backwards. Instead of putting justification first, we like to put sanctification first. Sanctification flows from justification. As the Book of Concord says:

Faith alone justifies… Good works necessarily and invariably follow. – Apology of the Augsburg Confession IV.64

So, of course, ask yourself WWJD. But more than that, trust what he has done. He has put you on his shoulders and carried you to safety. He has paid your debt of sin fully.

And because of that you now have confidence, you are free to love as you have been loved. Not for recognition by God, not to earn God’s favor, you are already his forgiven child. You don’t have to try to be good enough. God himself has declared you righteous on account of Christ. In that knowledge you can serve your neighbor just as you are called to do.

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

Luke 10:1-20; The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost; July 6, 2025;

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN;

After this the Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them on ahead of him, two by two, into every town and place where he himself was about to go. And he said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. Go your way; behold, I am sending you out as lambs in the midst of wolves. Carry no moneybag, no knapsack, no sandals, and greet no one on the road. Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace be to this house!’ And if a son of peace is there, your peace will rest upon him. But if not, it will return to you. And remain in the same house, eating and drinking what they provide, for the laborer deserves his wages. Do not go from house to house. Whenever you enter a town and they receive you, eat what is set before you. Heal the sick in it and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ But whenever you enter a town and they do not receive you, go into its streets and say, ‘Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet we wipe off against you. Nevertheless know this, that the kingdom of God has come near.’ I tell you, it will be more bearable on that day for Sodom than for that town. “Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the mighty works done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago, sitting in sackcloth and ashes. But it will be more bearable in the judgment for Tyre and Sidon than for you. And you, Capernaum, will you be exalted to heaven? You shall be brought down to Hades. “The one who hears you hears me, and the one who rejects you rejects me, and the one who rejects me rejects him who sent me.” The seventy-two returned with joy, saying, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!” And he said to them, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”” (Luke 10:1–20, ESV)

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

It is spiritual warfare. That is exactly what it is. Jesus sends out the 72 disciples to do battle—not with sword, or guns but with the Word. Deamons scream. Satan falls like lightning. The villages and towns are warned. And peace, above all, is proclaimed. The battle is dramatic. The battle is visible.

The seventy-two returned with joy, saying, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!”

It is filled with victory. It sounds like victory. It looks like victory.

It is what we want, but seldom see. For us our spiritual warfare doesn’t feel like lightning striking villages, or demons fleeing in terror. It looks more like bitterness in a committee meeting. A quiet despair filled night sitting beside an ailing parent. Doubt that God really means that there is forgiveness for all our sin. It feels like when we give up on prayer because we are tired. The creeping sense that the church is failing as churches everywhere close. That it is weak and scattered. It looks like the media mocking what we believe as unenlightened. It’s that awful gut feeling that we are losing.

But don’t be fooled. The battle is the same. In fact, everything is the same.

C.S. Lewis, in The Screwtape Letters, puts it like this—a senior demon instructing a junior one:

You will say that these are very small sins … But do remember, the only thing that matters is the extent to which you separate the man from the Enemy [for demons the Enemy is God]. It does not matter how small the sins are provided that their cumulative effect is to edge the man away from the Light and out into the Nothing.

That’s spiritual warfare, a bitter battle of small things not just wild rebellion.

In this battle, Satan stands against God—he always loses. The outcome is already assured. Jesus wins. Satan is defeated. He fails every time the Word is preached, every time a sinner is absolved, every time a baptized child of God, shows up in worship, to sing, pray and give thanks. It is a real battle, bloody and vicious. No prisoners are taken. And God, in Jesus Christ, wins, every time.

And when I say the battle is real, I’m talking about the spiritual combat. When Jesus sent the 72 he sent them saying,

Go your way; behold, I am sending you out as lambs in the midst of wolves.

They don’t go with anything worldly substantial. No money, no weapons, and no protection. They are sent with the Word alone. We don’t hear about it from them, but Jesus prepared them for rejection, resistance, and opposition.

That is our battle also. We go into our families, workplaces, and even in our congregation. We are armed with nothing worldly, but with the same Word. It looks a bit different for us. Because it does, we are tempted to believe that the fight isn’t happening—or worse that we are losing.

Our enemy isn’t flesh and blood. It’s not the people who cause us delays or speak against us openly. It isn’t the conflicts we face in the church. The real enemy we face is Satan and his demons. The enemy sows division, fear, and despair.

For the devil… causes such great mischief in order to lead us into sin, shame, and unbelief. — Large Catechism, Sixth Petition

The devil may work with whispers and slow erosion—but the Lord doesn’t leave us defenseless. He arms us with something sharper than shame, deeper than doubt, and stronger than despair:

For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. — Hebrews 4:12 (ESV)

It doesn’t only soothe us in times of despair. It pierces the soul. It exposes sin, kills pride and causes faith in Christ to grow. And remember, it never returns empty but always does what God intends. It doesn’t look like much, but the demons run in terror. The daily battle in the spiritual war isn’t fought with power, but rather with proclamation of Christ.

The real fight is in your forgiving sin in an underserving sinner; in teaching children the faith as found in the Catechism; in sermons preached by a sinful pastor; in showing up for church, even when you are tired, discouraged and angry.

Jesus wasn’t surprised when the 72 returned with their report. They were amazed; he was not.

I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. (v. 18)

He was saying that the battle and the war are already over. It is not in doubt. The devil is already falling. The language is a dramatic event; Jesus compares it to lightning. He could be saying:

When you were casting out demons, I was watching Satan, already collapsed, cast down, and completely undone.

You may feel tired, discouraged, or even defeated. But Jesus’ victory over Satan is complete.

Do not rejoice in this… but rejoice that your names are written in heaven. (v. 20)

That’s you, the baptized child of God, whose name is written in the book. Jesus has accomplished it for you. His death on the cross, brings you forgiveness, his resurrection secures if for you. That’s where the battle is won, forever.

Though devils all the world should fill, All eager to devour us, We tremble not, we fear no ill; They shall not overpower us. This world's prince may still Scowl fierce as he will, He can harm us none. He's judged; the deed is done; One little word can fell him. LSB 656

Martin also writes:

The devil is called the god of this world (2 Cor. 4:4), yet the Gospel is stronger. When it is preached purely, it is a lightning bolt from heaven, tearing down strongholds and setting captives free.”— Adapted from Martin Luther’s Lectures on Galatians

This victory, Christ’s victory can’t be taken away from you. The joy of it is not in dramatic spiritual success. The real joy is you and your identity in Christ. You belong to him. He has proved it through Holy Baptism, marking you as one redeemed by Christ the Crucified. That is God’s promise, and it can never be undone. No delay, no conflict, no fear, not even the devil himself, can remove your name from the Book.

You may not feel powerful. In fact, you may feel exactly the opposite. You may not see dramatic results (though sometimes you will!) Your baptism stands.

We are in a war. That war isn’t with flesh and blood. Christ has already won it. He has already stormed the battlefield and defeated our enemies. He has crushed the Serpent’s head and risen in victory. The fight was fierce, but it was never in doubt. It is proclaimed every time you hear about Jesus’ life, death on the cross, and the resurrection from death.

So, we fight—not for victory—but from victory. We serve where we are needed despite the opposition. We forgive the unforgivable. We pray for the others caught up in the battle. But we don’t fight to win. That is already done.

Rejoice that your names are written in heaven.

That’s all the security you need. Amen.

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