Romans 4:1–8, 13–17; The Second Sunday in Lent – March 1, 2026

Nothing in My Hand I Bring

Romans 4:1–8, 13–17
The Second Sunday in Lent – March 1, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN

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

You know how the world works. You have to struggle to earn a living. Paychecks don’t fall out of the sky. You can’t sit around the house expecting a roasted chicken to fly into your mouth. (Paraphrase of Martin Luther) Your earthly future depends on your work. Performance generally meets with approval. If you don’t work for yourself, you may dread performance reviews. If you do well, you will get a raise, if not… you may lose your job. That’s the way the world works.

We understand how that works. It is in our nature.

“By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread, till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

That’s the judgment of God over Adam’s sin. It carries over to us. We know what it means.

The problem is that when dealing with God, we assume that spiritual things work the same way. If we try harder, God will bless us. If we live better, God will approve of us. If my faith is strong enough, God will not put us through hard times. God will accept me, because I have earned it.

Romans 4 dismantles all that thinking. Paul makes it clear.

“To the one who works, his wages are not counted as a gift but as his due.” (v.4)

He is talking about good works. If you do good things, you earn it, you deserve it and you claim it as your due. That is a closed fist approach to God. I have improved. I tried to curb my sin. Because I work hard, I deserve a blessing.

But Paul follows up v. 4 with v. 5.

God justifies the ungodly.

It is shocking. God justifies the sinful. He doesn’t account for good works for blessing. He doesn’t bless the improved, the religious, or even the sincere.

God’s law doesn’t reward effort. It exposes sin. Our best efforts still come from sinful hearts. That’s the issue. Sinful hearts produce sinful works. The sin can’t be filtered out of the good stuff. If salvation is dependent on good works, they must be perfect. If salvation is dependent on performance, you are already lost.

When Paul writes, his point is devastating. That’s because we expect God to work within our experience. Paul says he simply doesn’t work that way. He says, look at Abraham.

“Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness.”

Faith, believing God, is not a work, a contribution, or some kind of spiritual achievement. Believe, the Greek word is πιστεύω — to rely completely on what God promises, even when nothing else supports it. Faith has an object. Faith without an object is useless. Abraham believed God.

In other words, faith is an open hand. It receives from God. Promises are received and believed, because God is faithful. This is saving faith.

According to Paul’s words: when faith is present, righteousness is counted, sin is not counted, and forgiveness is given.

On his death bed Martin Luther scrawled these words on a scrap of paper:

“We are beggars. This is true.”

It was found after his death. We are beggars. A beggar receives without claim, without merit, with an open hand.

Paul continues.

“That is why it depends on faith, in order that the promise may rest on grace and be guaranteed.”

He answers the question about why God’s way is different. If salvation were based on works or merit, no one would qualify. According to God’s law you must be perfect. We know this is true, but we don’t really want to believe it. If everything depended on your actions, there would be no certainty, because your actions, in the spiritual world are inconsistent.

But, Paul says, because salvation depends on faith, it rests entirely on grace. Because God is faithful, his grace is sure. Salvation is a guarantee. Your salvation is secure because it does not rest on your performance. It rests on God’s promise.

“The God who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist.”

As we step forward in Lent, we look forward to celebrating Jesus’ resurrection. Paul uses resurrection language. God gives life to the dead. He is speaking about your resurrection and mine. God’s ultimate promise.

Paul quotes David.

“Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven.”

How is it then that God counts faith as righteousness? How is it that He doesn’t count sin? It is because of Jesus on the cross. God counted sin to Christ there. In His suffering, bleeding, dying, and being forsaken by the Father, He has taken our sin.

This is the great exchange. Our sin goes onto Jesus. His righteousness comes to us through faith. God has created the situation. Faith grasps hold of it. Faith is the empty hand that says, “God did that for me.”

Now that empty hand holds forgiveness, righteousness, and eternal life.

There are two ways to stand before God: a closed fist or an open hand. The empty hand says, “Give me what You promised.” Faith isn’t strong believing. It is simply:

“Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to the cross I cling.”

God does not ask you to bring something to Him. He asks you to come empty — so He can fill your hands with Christ.

Amen.

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

2 Corinthians 5:20b–6:2; Ash Wednesday; February 18, 2026;

Be Reconciled to God

Text: 2 Corinthians 5:20b–6:2 (ESV)

Occasion: Ash Wednesday

Date: February 18, 2026

Location: Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN

“We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. Working together with him, then, we appeal to you not to receive the grace of God in vain. For he says, ‘In a favorable time I listened to you, and in a day of salvation I have helped you.’ Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”

— 2 Corinthians 5:20b–6:2 (ESV)

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

On Ash Wednesday we start Lent by telling the truth. It is symbolized by the ashes on your forehead. They say it starkly.

“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

— Genesis 3:19

No, it isn’t optimistic. It’s a declaration of death, yours. There is no sentimentality. There is nothing in death that is sentimental, it is death, an end to life. Families are torn apart. Relationships are broken. No matter how much we try to bring a softness to it, it can’t be done. It is the primary problem with life. We all die. The ashes don’t ask for some kind of self-improvement. They are stark. You are dust, you will return to it.

It is the full truth, the full story, the full consequences of your sin.

Into that truth, Paul speaks:

Be reconciled to God.

You need reconciliation. Something is broken. You can’t fix it.

What Paul doesn’t say is, Improve yourself. He says, Be reconciled.

In your sinful nature you are separated from God. That’s where reconciliation is necessary. Sin isn’t a weakness in you. You are not weak as if you could work harder and end your weakness. Sin is a broken relationship with God. A rupture of that one on one.

The ashes say it. You can’t fix it. You can not control death. You can’t beat it. It will come to you. And you can’t negotiate with God about it. The die is cast.

And it is urgent. You don’t know when you will die. That is left to God alone. You could die in your sleep tonight, or you might not even make it home. It isn’t theoretical. Ash Wednesday isn’t about sometime in the future. It is about now. It is about tonight.

If we stopped our sermon here, we would leave the church in despair. That is the Law doing its full work. When it is preached properly, you are left with nothing. No action, no pleading, no bargains, no good works can change what you are.

But Paul doesn’t leave it there. He interjects the truth of the Gospel. He says it clearly and precisely:

“For our sake [God] made [Jesus] to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”

— 2 Corinthians 5:21 (quoted from the reading)

This is the center of Christianity. The Law presses us down to death. The Gospel raises us up to life. God does not send an advisor to tell you what to do. He does something far more radical.

He sends His Son. And His Son does not stand at a safe distance. He steps into our place.

He made Him to be sin who knew no sin.

Jesus Christ — true God and true man — takes our guilt as His own. He bears our judgment. He carries our death. He does not become a sinner by committing sin. He becomes sin by bearing it. The weight that crushes us is laid on Him. And the righteousness that belongs to Him is given to us. It isn’t symbolic. His death was a real human death, dying as a substitution. His death was the death of God, it isn’t partial. It is complete. Jesus on the cross says so.

It is finished.

One word in Greek:

Τετέλεσται

It is completely done. The substitution is complete. The end of the project is now.

Jesus became sin. He dies for it. And specifically, our sin. Your sin and mine. He becomes it and dies for it. To be clear, on the cross Jesus is your sin, he is your guilt, he is your death, he is your punishment. Because of the Τετέλεσται, you don’t face what he faced. It is finished, done, paid in full.

…so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.

Looking at the text we might think that the word “might” would install a bit of doubt about the outcome. For those grammar nazis out there, the word become (γίνομαι in Greek) is in the subjunctive mood. The “so that” with the subjunctive doesn’t leave any room for debate. The better sense of it is:

God made Christ to be sin for this purpose: That we become the righteousness of God in Him.

There is no uncertainty in the accomplishment. Jesus did it, we become. Not receiving, not imitating, not growing, but becoming.

It is all in what is called the Great Exchange. Jesus takes our sin. We get the righteousness of God. Our sin, guilt and death are His. We get His righteousness, standing before the Father and His life. You can’t accomplish any of this. It is something that God has already done in Jesus.

The ashes on your head isn’t proof of repentance. It is a confession. I am dust. I am a sinner. I am bound for hell. It is telling the truth. But now, after the ashes, Christ feeds you. His word of forgiveness enters your ears, his body and blood and the forgiveness that goes with them enters your mouth. The one who became your sin, now gives you his body and blood. It is reconciliation proclaimed and delivered to you, for you.

So, tonight as you leave our church, you are marked twice. Once with ashes: you will die. Then marked by Christ: you are reconciled, you will live. The ashes don’t have the last word. Amen.

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