Matthew 13:44–52; The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost; July 26, 2026;

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, Minnesota

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it. “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and gathered fish of every kind. When it was full, men drew it ashore and sat down and sorted the good into containers but threw away the bad. So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the fiery furnace. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. “Have you understood all these things?” They said to him, “Yes.” And he said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house, who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.”” (Matthew 13:44–52, ESV) >

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

Jesus tells two almost identical parables. In the first, a man finds a treasure. In the second, a merchant finds a pearl. Both immediately know one thing.

This is worth everything.

But how do you know what something is worth?

Do you remember the television show Antiques Roadshow? People would bring in something they had inherited or found at a garage sale. The appraiser would examine it, explain its history, and then came the moment everyone waited for: "At auction, I think this would sell for..." or "A collector would probably pay..." Sometimes the answer was five thousand dollars—or fifty thousand.

Of course, they rarely aired the episodes where the answer was, "It has sentimental value, but not much market value."

Why? Because something is only worth what someone is willing to pay for it.

That's what Jesus wants His hearers to see. The pearl and the treasure don't have price tags attached. Their value is shown by what the finder is willing to give up to possess them. In joy they both give up everything they have. Their sacrifice shows the value.

The finders aren't making a painful sacrifice. The man in the field has found a valuable treasure. The merchant is making the deal of his life.

The man doesn't reluctantly sell everything. He doesn't sigh. He doesn't complain. He goes in joy. Why? Because he has already found the treasure.

Jesus endured the cross.

"...looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God." (Hebrews 12:2, ESV)

For centuries Christians have been asking themselves, "Am I the man or the merchant? Am I willing to give up everything for Jesus?"

Maybe we've asked the wrong question.

Who actually gave up everything?

Who left heaven?

Who became poor?

Who emptied Himself?

Who went all the way to the cross?

Jesus.

That's why Paul can say so confidently:

"He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all..." (Romans 8:32a, ESV)

Jesus says it in a parable. Paul tells us outright. The price has already been paid.

So the real question these parables push us to ask isn't, "What am I willing to give up?"

Instead, they ask:

If Jesus paid everything...

What exactly was He buying?

The most important truth in this parable is hidden. Jesus Himself tells us that this is how His parables work. Some hear only a story. Others, by the Holy Spirit, hear the Gospel.

So...

What exactly was Jesus buying?

You.

Just...

You.

But it really shouldn't surprise us. This has always been God's way.

Listen to our Old Testament reading.

"It was not because you were more in number than any other people that the LORD set his love on you and chose you... but it is because the LORD loves you..." (Deuteronomy 7:7–8, ESV)

God's people have never been chosen because they were numerous or even valuable. Their value came from God's choosing.

God's people were never chosen because they were great. They became precious because God loved them.

Jesus doesn't die for you because you are priceless.

You become priceless because Jesus died for you.

And what does that tell you about what you are worth to Him?

Paul hits it squarely. He asks one question after another.

Who can accuse?

Who condemns?

Who separates?

The answer is always the same.

No one.

Nothing.

That's because you were paid for with Jesus' own blood. His value for you is priceless, and the purchase price has been paid in full. There is nothing left to pay.

The parables are often read as if they are first about what we do for Christ. But the whole New Testament teaches us first to see what Christ has done for us.

He is the treasure seeker.

That's the important truth hidden in the parable. People naturally make it about themselves. But Jesus is the center of the parable. Not you and not me.

What do the parables mean?

They don't mean, "Try harder."

They don't mean, "Be willing to give up more."

They don't mean, "Be willing to give up everything."

The revelation of the parable is that once you've discovered how much Jesus values you, everything else changes.

Then Christ is your treasure.

Money becomes a servant instead of a master.

Time becomes an opportunity instead of a possession.

Your home becomes hospitality.

Your work becomes vocation.

Your suffering becomes a cross that cannot separate you from Him.

That's how the parables turn everything upside down. You don't give up anything.

You gain everything.

That's God's Kingdom. That's how it becomes your greatest joy. It isn't because you are trying to buy it. Jesus has already done that for you.

You have already been bought.

Jesus sold everything.

He came down from heaven.

He set aside His glory.

He gave up comfort.

He even gave up His own life.

And He did it...

...in joy.

Because you were the treasure.

And Paul says it:

"...nor death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38–39, ESV)

The treasure Christ purchased with His blood can never be lost.

Amen.

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

Matthew 11:25; The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost; July 27, 2025

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28, ESV)

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

You know the feeling when something gets heavy. A backpack. A box. A load of firewood. A canoe. Heavy construction materials that must be moved to and from Randy’s house.

At first it doesn’t seem that heavy. But after only a little while it feels very heavy. Your shoulders ache. Your arms tire. You have to shift the load. You want to put it down.

Life has burdens like that. Some of you carry burdens that no one else knows about. Grieving worries about children, illnesses, or even just the daily load from work. Some of you are simply exhausted.

Jesus speaks to people like that. Like you.

In Romans Paul speaks honestly. He talks about the Christian life. He does it frankly. He uses himself as an example.

I do not do the good I want...

Paul’s voice doesn’t come from an unbeliever. It is the voice of a Christian. One who struggles daily with regular everyday struggles. It is the voice of a believer who loves God’s Law and still struggles with sin.

Finally, he cries out.

Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me?

“Who will deliver me?” It isn’t a question of how do I fix myself. But who will rescue me.

Paul sees his daily struggle with sin and the overwhelming burden of it. He calls his own body a body of death. His struggle isn’t about fixing something he knows he can fix. It’s about rescuing a drowning man.

The Old Testament reading for today begins to paint a picture.

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. I will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the war horse from Jerusalem; and the battle bow shall be cut off, and he shall speak peace to the nations; his rule shall be from sea to sea, and from the River to the ends of the earth. (Zechariah 9:9–10, ESV)

Israel expected a conquering king. But instead… the king comes riding on a donkey. He is gentle and humble. He doesn’t come to crush already burdened sinners. He comes to save them. He comes to free prisoners.

That’s what you are. Prisoners of your burdens. Sin is a prison. Death is a prison. These trap you. And worst of all you know the traps. Your sin is a burden. A heavy load.

So when Paul asks,

Who will deliver me?

Jesus answers,

Come to Me.

In those simple words Jesus doesn’t say, your life will be easy. He doesn’t say sickness will disappear. He doesn’t say you will not experience grief. He doesn’t say you won’t have any burdens.

Take My yoke upon you.

The Christian life is full of burdens, crosses. They don’t go away.

In this life you will have many burdens. Illness. Family. Depression. Fear. Grief. Loneliness. Those crosses will remain.

Jesus reframes them. Grief is still felt. But Jesus tells us that death is an enemy that has already been defeated. Jesus changes it so that it is no longer hopeless.

Illness is a burden. You see your body and it seems to be falling apart. Jesus tells us that this very body will be raised on the last day. Then it will be perfect, illnesses will be gone forever.

Depression. It hurts, drains you of everything good. It darkens everything. But Jesus promises he doesn’t abandon you.

So, why doesn’t Jesus just fix these burdens now? That is a question all Christians ask continually.

And the answer. He hasn’t finished his work. I’m not talking about the work of saving you. The cross is finished. The new creation is not.

The cross is the answer to the one burden no sinner can carry. It is not cancer. It is not grief. It is not depression. It is the burden of standing before a holy God with your sins upon you.

That burden of sin and its punishment crushes forever.

So, Christ does something astonishing. He takes it from your shoulders and places it upon His own.

The innocent One carries the guilty.

The righteous One bears the unrighteous.

The Son of God walks to Calvary carrying not merely a wooden cross but the sins of the whole world. Your sin. My sin. Every bitter word. Every selfish thought. The failures Paul laments in Romans 7.

On the cross He bears the judgment that belonged to us, so that we would never have to bear it ourselves.

That is the burden that Christ carries for you. He, in fact, removes it from you. That is Paul’s question answered. Jesus Christ bears our sins to the cross. He suffers our death, our punishment, our sin. That is a burden no person can carry. Jesus bears what we never could.

Every day you still struggle against sin. Paul certainly did. But every day you do not have to bear sin’s condemnation. Christ has already carried that burden to the cross. The battle continues, but the verdict has already been announced.

The rest of your burdens? They also belong to him. But you still bear them because he is still working bringing redemption to its completion.

The burden of guilt—
Jesus carries instead of you.

The burdens of this life—
Jesus carries with you.

The cross happened. The resurrection happened. The new creation has begun.

But we still live between Easter and the Last Day.

That’s why Paul can say,

Wretched man that I am...

and still be an apostle. The war has been won. The battles continue.

And Jesus promises we never bear those burdens alone.

The Shepherd walks among his sheep. Jesus strengthens us with his Word. He speaks forgiveness to you through the voice of an under shepherd. He gives you his very body and blood to sustain you.

Jesus says one more thing.

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden…

And here’s the promise.

and I will give you rest. (Matthew 11:28, ESV)

The word rest is carrying a lot of weight. You probably had a good day of rest yesterday. Maybe you sat by a fire, talked with friends, enjoyed a good hot dog, and saw some fireworks. It was a good day for me. It was a day of rest.

But the rest Jesus brings is very different. You see it in scripture. The Sabbath day. Israel coming into the promised land.

The rest he is talking about isn’t taking a nap. It isn’t retirement. It isn’t even a day off.

Rest is finally arriving where sin, death, cancer, depression, grief, and guilt can never follow.

That’s the promise.

Jesus isn’t promising a better week, although he does do that sometimes. He is saying,

I’ll bring you safely home.

That’s why what God does here, in this building, is so important. We bring our burdens here. We lay them at the foot of the cross. And Jesus brings the promise of the resurrection into our present. He feeds us with a meal that connects us to himself. That meal is the promise of the resurrection. Our burdens don’t become insignificant. They become bearable because Christ bears them with us. Faith doesn’t pretend the burden is light. Faith knows who is carrying it with you.

Anyone who has carried a sheet of plywood knows that if the stronger man takes the heavy end, suddenly you can keep walking. The board hasn’t become lighter. But someone stronger is carrying most of the weight. That’s what Jesus does.

He holds you up when you are falling under the burdens.

As Psalm 145 says:

The Lord upholds all who are falling and raises up all who are bowed down.

Jesus doesn’t promise to remove every burden in your life. But he never abandons those who bear them.

Jesus is the humble king who has come. Paul’s cry for mercy has been answered. The burden of sin has been lifted forever.

And for every other burden that remains—

Christ remains.

Every Divine Service is His invitation once again:

Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

Not because every earthly burden has disappeared.

But because your Savior is here. He forgives you. He strengthens you. And He will never leave you to carry your burdens alone.

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

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Matthew 10:34-42; The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost; June 28, 2026

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. And a person’s enemies will be those of his own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. “Whoever receives you receives me, and whoever receives me receives him who sent me. The one who receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and the one who receives a righteous person because he is a righteous person will receive a righteous person’s reward. And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward.”” (Matthew 10:34–42, ESV)

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

You know, Christian faith is very different from all other religions. You do know it, but this passage says it.

People imagine they must reach up to God. That they must do something. That’s sinful human nature. Nothing comes to us without our struggle. We are in charge of our own destiny.

Jesus says differently, just the opposite in fact.

He says,

The Father sends. The Son comes. The Son sends the apostles. God’s people receive.

Our text opens with Jesus talking about his coming. In a way it is shocking.

He doesn’t come to improve society, not to resolve conflict. He doesn’t bring peace. He brings a sword, and division.

Think about the first part of the text. Sons against fathers. Daughters against mothers. Division in the household. That is not peace. That is conflict. And Jesus says he comes to comes to bring it.

More than that he says,

…whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.

We’ve got you there, Pastor. We put up a great big cross on our church.

I told someone that Grand Marais has a new landmark. It isn’t necessarily what you think. It’s a landmark alright. It’s a bold statement. People in Grand Marais might not oppose it openly, but there are some, maybe many, who will hate it. More so, if we stand behind it. If we don’t, it’s just an empty symbol. If we do, it will cause division.

If you think everyone who drives by is going to smile, I think you are mistaken. Some will smile. Some won’t notice. Some will resent it. Some will hate it. Not because a wooden cross hurts anyone.

Those who don’t like it won’t like it because it points to Christ. He is the one who comes to sinners demanding repentance and offering forgiveness.

The cross itself divides no one. Christ does.

But notice where Jesus finishes. Jesus doesn’t say, “Go and find me.” He doesn’t say “Climb up to heaven.” He doesn’t say "Earn your way into My presence." He says, “Receive me.”

That’s unexpected. After all that warning about trouble. Jesus says, “Receive me.”

Jesus stops talking about swords. He stops talking about crosses. He stops talking about fathers and mothers. Instead, he begins repeating one little word.

Receive.

He says it six times in three verses.

Receive.

Receive.

Receive.

Receive.

Receive.

Receive.

And the word has another word hidden inside. You can’t receive something unless it is sent.

That is the whole movement of the Christian faith.

Jesus talks about who and what is sent. The Father sends the son. Son comes into the world. The son sends his apostles to preach Christ. So, with that, Jesus says,

Whoever receives you receives me.

Jesus is answering the question the world should be asking.

How do I get God?

He says,

The Father sent me.

I have come.

He sends his apostles.

Receive me.

That’s the sword. It’s not “be willing to suffer”. It’s not “carry your cross.” That’s what happens when Christ is received. The sword is

Receive me.

Receiving Jesus divides the world. Jesus doesn’t say,

Receive a philosophy.

He does not say,

Receive a moral code.

He says,

Receive me.

Receive the One whom the Father sent into the world. Receive the One who took your sins upon Himself. Receive the One who stretched out His hands upon another cross—not merely as an example to follow, but as the sacrifice that takes away the sin of the world.

Receive the One who died your death. Receive the One whom the Father raised from the dead. Receive the forgiveness He won. Receive the life He gives.

That is what Christ brings when He comes.

That's what divides fathers and sons. That's what divides mothers and daughters. That's what divided the Sanhedrin. That's what divided the Roman Empire. That's what still divides Grand Marais. The offense is not Christianity as a system.

The offense is Christ Himself.

Not simply because He teaches difficult things. But because He claims to be the only Savior. He alone forgives sins. He alone reconciles sinners to the Father. He alone opens the kingdom of heaven. That is why He divides the world.

Our new cross, the wooden beams that stretch out north and south, aren’t offensive because they are a cross. They are offensive because they say,

Receive him.

…

Or reject him.

There isn’t a third option. Receive or reject.

That is the sword.

Everything Jesus says here flows from that. Some receive him. Some reject him. Families divide. Crosses are carried. The apostles are received—or rejected. The Church is welcomed—or persecuted.

That’s what happens when Christ comes.

He says,

Receive me.

And there is another division here. People say,

You need to accept Jesus.

But Jesus doesn't use that language.

He says,

Receive Me.

Accept often sounds like the decisive action belongs to me. I make the choice. I take the initiative. I decide.

But receive begins somewhere else.

Before I can receive anything, someone has to give it. Before I can receive Christ, the Father has to send Him. Before I can receive the Gospel, someone has to preach it. Before I can receive the Sacrament, Christ has to institute it and give it. Christianity begins not with my action, but with God's.

Luther compared faith to an empty hand. An empty hand doesn't earn the gift. It doesn't improve the gift. It doesn't create the gift. It simply receives what another places into it. That is what Jesus is talking about.

Acceptance emphasizes the chooser. Receiving emphasizes the giver.

And perhaps now you can hear the words of the Small Catechism a little differently.

I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ, my Lord, or come to him; but the Holy Spirit has called me by the Gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, sanctified and kept me in the true faith.

Luther understood exactly what Jesus is teaching.

We do not come to Christ. Christ comes to us. The Father sent His Son. The Son came into the world. The Son sent His apostles. Through their preaching Christ still comes to His Church.

That is why, in just a few moments, we will do exactly what Jesus says.

We will not climb into heaven. We will not search for Christ. We will not earn His favor.

He will come to us. He will speak His Word. He will give His gifts. The Christ who once came in the flesh, who once hung upon the cross, who once rose from the tomb, still comes to His people.

Not to condemn.

Not to demand another sacrifice.

But to deliver the forgiveness He purchased with His own blood.

He will place into empty hands His own Body and Blood, given and shed for the forgiveness of your sins.

And what will we do?

Exactly what Jesus tells us to do.

Receive Him.

Amen.

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

Matthew 10:21-33; The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost; June 21, 2026

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN

Brother will deliver brother over to death, and the father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death, and you will be hated by all for my name’s sake. But the one who endures to the end will be saved. When they persecute you in one town, flee to the next, for truly, I say to you, you will not have gone through all the towns of Israel before the Son of Man comes. “A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master. It is enough for the disciple to be like his teacher, and the servant like his master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household. “So have no fear of them, for nothing is covered that will not be revealed, or hidden that will not be known. What I tell you in the dark, say in the light, and what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops. And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. So everyone who acknowledges me before men, I also will acknowledge before my Father who is in heaven, but whoever denies me before men, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 10:21–33, ESV)

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

Jesus isn’t talking here to comfortable Christians. He is talking to his disciples. He is preparing them for what they don’t know, can’t even believe, is coming. Persecution. In their lifetimes they will experience betrayal, hatred, arrest, and almost all of them, death.

And then in the middle of all that darkness, he starts talking about birds. Sparrows. It seems strange. It seems disconnected. Why bird? Why sparrows of all birds? Shouldn’t he talk about being soldiers? Shouldn’t he talk about kings? Shouldn’t he talk about the fight?

No, he doesn’t because the sparrow is the point. Sparrows were cheap, disposable, forgettable.

He wants to remind his disciples that that’s what the world thinks of them. That’s exactly how the world will treat them.

…and you will be hated by all for my name’s sake. (Matthew 10:22, ESV)

He doesn’t say disliked or misunderstood. He says hated. The English word understates it. We hear it as emotional dislike. μισέω means: to hate, to detest, to reject, to have hostility toward, to regard with aversion. This word means opposition that results in action.

Jesus is not merely saying people won’t like you. He is saying they will act in opposition to you. In fact, he promises it will happen. His disciples shouldn’t expect applause or adulation. They should expect hate, and open hostility.

A disciple is not above his teacher. (Matt 10:24, ESV)

They hated him. They will hate the disciples. They will hate you.

Think about it. Persecution isn’t just trying to stop a message. It tries to make the message and the speaker meaningless. “You don’t matter.”

In bloody arena’s, hiding in the catacombs, the early Christians got that message. And believers now, hear the same thing. “You don’t matter. Your message is nothing. You are not useful.”

Useful. That’s what the world values. Power is useful. Wealth is useful. Productivity is useful. Christians are not.

A Christian may find himself treated like a marketplace sparrow. They were cheap, disposable, and replaceable.

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?

Sparrows were sold in the market. Not as pets. As snacks. They were the cheapest thing there. Poor people bought them for food. In Luke he says they would even throw one in for free.

Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? (Luke 12:6, ESV)

Two for one penny. Two pennies mean four. Five is an extra thrown in for free. Sparrows are worthless.

Not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.

But Jesus says differently. The merchant doesn’t even bother to count them. The crowds don’t count them. But the Father does.

Jesus says that sparrows matter to the Father. So, you matter to the Father. He knows you. He sees you. He counts every hair. He knows everything about you. Your suffering. Your tears. Your persecution. Your death.

Your value isn’t set by the world. Your value is set by Christ. And the proof is the cross. God didn’t purchase you with silver or gold. He purchased you with the blood of His Son. Martin Luther wrote:

I believe that Jesus Christ, true God, begotten of the Father from eternity, and also true man, born of the Virgin Virgin Mary, is my Lord, who has redeemed me, a lost and condemned person, purchased and won me from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil; not with gold or silver, but with His holy, precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death, that I may be His own and live under Him in His kingdom and serve Him in everlasting righteousness, innocence, and blessedness, just as He is risen from the dead, lives and reigns to all eternity.

not with gold or silver, but with His holy, precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death. Luther pushed the idea. Gold and silver were precious. How many sparrows could be purchased with a heap of gold and silver? Too many to count. For you, God spent his most precious commodity. Jesus suffering and death, and his very life.

Jesus says sparrows fall, not unnoticed by the Father, he counts every single one. But he doesn’t say they don’t fall. Christians fall also. He never promises otherwise. His disciple listening to him would die for Jesus and his word.

And what does he say? Do not fear.

That is profound.

Do not fear.

How can he say that when he has just given a litany of things that shake us to our core? God the Father is still God the Father, even when sparrows fall. Even when persecution leads to death. It is a resurrection promise. The black hole of the grave isn’t a place where God loses people. The Father who knows every hair on your head, the Father who counts sparrows, knows where your body rests. He promises resurrection. Just as Jesus was raised from his grave, you will be too. The world forgets graves. The Father doesn’t. In your grave lies one who has been redeemed by Christ. Purchased and won

with His holy, precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death.

And listen to how Luther frames it.

that I may be His own and live under Him in His kingdom and serve Him in everlasting righteousness, innocence, and blessedness, just as He is risen from the dead, lives and reigns to all eternity.

In the marketplace sparrows weren’t even worth a dime a dozen. The world prices Christians the same way. But, God the Father, he does not.

A persecutor says, “You are worthless.” God the Father sees a soul redeemed by the blood of Jesus.

The world forgets and moves on. The Father remembers.

The world buries. The Father raises.

Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows." (Matthew 10:31)

The world prices you like a sparrow. Christ prices you with His blood. Therefore, do not fear. Amen.

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

Matthew 9:9–13; The Second Sunday after Pentecost; June 7, 2026

Matthew 9:9–13

The Second Sunday after Pentecost

June 7, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church
Grand Marais, Minnesota

As Jesus passed on from there, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he rose and followed him. And as Jesus reclined at table in the house, behold, many tax collectors and sinners came and were reclining with Jesus and his disciples. And when the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” But when he heard it, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”

Matthew 9:9–13, ESV

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

It occurs to me that Jesus loves banquets. Over and over again in the Bible you see Him eating banquets with people. We know what it’s all about, we love our potlucks, too. I never heard of anyone turning down a potluck. Jesus likes them because He loves people… all kinds of people… even the people other people don’t like.

Just look at the Pharisees. They ask Jesus’ disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” To get what they are really asking we might rephrase it as, “Why do you want to eat with bikers?” “Why do you hang out with drug dealers?” “Why do you want to eat with ‘those people?’”

Well, the Pharisees didn’t understand. We aren’t Pharisees… at least we don’t think we are. But before we’re done today, we may discover we have more in common with them than we’d like.

Jesus loves banquets, I think, because He loves to give. That’s what God is all about, giving. He takes care of us by giving. The whole creation is God’s gift to us. When He created the world, He created it for us. Just look at the everyday ordinary things that God gives you every day. A place to live, a family, a wonderful church, and, of course, food… a banquet every day. More than you’ll ever need. God is a giving God; He loves nothing more than to give. The best that we can do is delight in His gifts.

Of course, there is nothing more important that He has given than eternal life. He gives that to us through the gift of His one and only Son, Jesus. Look at the disciple Matthew. Jesus called him. Who was he? He was one of those “tax collectors and sinners.” People in Jesus’ day wouldn’t be caught dead with a guy like that. But Jesus calls him. “Follow Me,” He says. And Matthew responds to the gift. Jesus chose him. Jesus gave him the gift of life.

God does that for you too. He doesn’t do it by saying the words, “Follow Me.” He uses different words. He actually puts His name on you with water. He pours it on your head and says, “You are Mine. You belong to God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. You have eternal life through faith in Jesus.”

What God does is apply the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus to you. He says that everything that Jesus did is yours. What did you do to deserve such a gift? What did Matthew do? Nothing at all. For most of us we couldn’t even form words, let alone choose to follow God. Faith in Jesus is God’s gift to you and me. It is the act of a God who loves to give, the act of a God willing to suffer and die for you. All you have to do, actually it would be better to say, what you do is delight in God’s gift.

Think just for a minute about the Ten Commandments. You shall have no other gods before Me. You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God. Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Those first three commandments talk about our relationship with God. They talk about the gifts that God has given us. They are talking about faith. Why would you want to have any kind of relationship outside of the one true God?

The rest of the commandments talk about gifts of God, too. Honor your father and mother — the gift of family and government. You shall not kill — the gift of life. You shall not commit adultery — the gift of marriage. Etc. When we think about the God who gives such gifts, especially the gift of having a relationship with Himself, we see the commandments in a whole new light. Not as rules but as realities. It’s the way we live because of who we are… or whose we are.

That’s what the Pharisees were missing. That’s why Jesus tells them they need to do more research. He said to them, “Go and learn what this means.” It’d be like a teacher writing on a paper, “Do over.” They didn’t get it. They thought they had a relationship with God because of what they did. They were the “in” group. They kept all the laws as best they could. God must be pleased with them.

But they missed what Jesus was all about. “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” isn’t talking about us doing good stuff for God. Our problem is that we don’t understand the word mercy right. In our ears mercy means feeling sorry for someone who is worse off than we are. You get a better idea what mercy means from the ESV translation of the Old Testament lesson for today:

For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice,
the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.

Hosea 6:6, ESV

The word “mercy,” or here “steadfast love,” isn’t about feelings. It’s about actions. It’s about relationships… relationships with one another and most especially a relationship with God. When we say, “Lord, have mercy!” we are not asking God to feel sorry for us. We are asking Him to do what He has promised to do. We are asking Him to give us what He has promised to give. Thanks to Dr. Dale Meyer, June 3rd, The Meyer Minute.

Would you like an example? You don’t have to go outside the Bible for a good example. Abraham is a great one. He’s an example of having steadfast love of God… even to a fault. St. Paul wrote those words about him:

No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God.

Romans 4:20, ESV

God promised to give him a son, and even though he was very old he believed it would happen. Even Abraham stumbled and tried to help God keep His promise. Not because he believed that God wouldn’t do it, but simply because he trusted God would do it, so why should he have to wait?

He was fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised. That is why his faith was “counted to him as righteousness.”

Romans 4:21–22, ESV

That’s the steadfast love that we mean when we talk about mercy.

God loves a banquet. He loves to give. He calls you to a banquet. Do you know about it? Do you know where you can go to receive what God promises to give you? Well, you must know something about it. After all, you are here at the banquet He provides. You’ve already received the gifts that He promises to give.

Why do you think we start our worship service with a reminder that God has given us the gift of faith? “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit” is the name of God that was placed on you when God promised you eternal life through faith in Jesus. If you want to know who God’s gifts are here for, all you have to do is remember that He has claimed you through water and Word.

God has already today spoken to you about the gift of forgiveness, too. Did you ever wonder why a pastor says, “I forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit?” A pastor has no power to forgive, except the forgiveness that God gives. Your pastor only speaks God’s Word of promise to you. He speaks “in the stead and by the command of Jesus.” “In the stead” means “standing in for.”

And right before that we call upon God to do for us what He promises to do. We say it more fully than this, but the dialogue could be said like this:

God’s People: God, I need forgiveness. Forgive me as You promise You will do.

God’s Response: You are forgiven because of Jesus!

God’s People: Yeah! Glory to God! Thanks be to God!

God loves to give, especially to give what we need. And forgiveness is it. But there’s more. God’s banquet really does have food too! We’ll gather at God’s altar and eat bread and wine. It’s a very special meal. It’s a meal we need more than any other meal. That’s because it’s not just ordinary bread and wine, it’s the body and blood of Jesus.

God just keeps on giving… forgiveness upon forgiveness. And you don’t have to doubt that the forgiveness He gives is being given to you. “Take and eat. Take and drink. This is My body and blood given to you for the forgiveness of sins.” It’s for you right there. You see, when God gives a gift you can be sure of who it’s for and exactly what it does. “Lord have mercy! Give me what You promise to give.”

Now, does that have an impact on how you live in relationship to other people? I should think so. God gives you what you need. You don’t have to do anything to earn His forgiveness. You don’t have to do anything to earn your relationship to Him. He gifts it to you. Your response is more than just thanksgiving to God. Your response is to give a gift. Not a gift to God, but a gift to everyone else. God gives you what you need. You can give other people what they need.

That’s what the Pharisees were missing. They lived their lives doing stuff for God to help themselves. They tried to keep God’s laws to earn His favor. That’s useless. That’s unnecessary. That’s something a person can’t even do. In fact, if we try, we are rejecting the gift.

It’s saying to God, “I don’t want the gift of salvation You sent Your Son to die for. I’d rather earn my own way. Jesus’ life and death isn’t good enough for me. His perfect life and death aren’t what I want. I expect You to look at my good works instead.”

We worship God best when we take what He gives with a thankful heart. Think of the potluck again: God fills our plate with wonderful gifts. It’s okay to have a very full plate. That’s what God wants, to give to you all that you need and more. You’ve got all that you need. Go ahead and live for others. Amen.

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

Genesis 1:1; The Festival of the Holy Trinity; May 31, 2026

In the Beginning God...

Genesis 1:1; The Festival of the Holy Trinity; May 31, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN

In the beginning God… (Genesis 1:1a)

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

He was there at the beginning. Not just there, but active. The next word in the English text is created. The first thing that happened… God created.

The Hebrew puts it just a bit differently.

בְּרֵאשִׁ֖ית בָּרָ֣א אֱלֹהִ֑ים

In the beginning, at first, to start with, created God…

That’s the normal way to say things in that language. The verb, create (בָּרָ֣א) comes before God (אֱלֹהִ֑ים). The action comes first then the actor. It means the same thing.

But there is a small problem. בָּרָ֣א — create — is singular. He created. And אֱלֹהִ֑ים, God, is plural. Gods? And yet, it has never been translated that way. God, אֱלֹהִ֑ים, in the Bible uses singular verbs. Is it just a matter of the plural of majesty? When kings and such were used in the plural as a matter of importance. Well, maybe. But I think Genesis is telling us something else.

In some sense, God (אֱלֹהִ֑ים) is plural, used with singular verbs, like בָּרָ֣א, and therefore also… singular.

To our New Testament ears, and on Trinity Sunday, we automatically, and quickly, jump to the Trinity. Three in One, One in Three. We just confessed the Athanasian Creed. It lays out the Trinity very clearly. Problem solved… well not quite.

As the Jehovah’s Witnesses are sure to point out, “The word Trinity is not in the Bible.” And they are right. The word Trinity is a doctrinal word that comes in the 5th or 6th Century. And to be sure it describes what is found in the Bible. The word itself isn’t in there.

Now, when you have your meeting with President Finnern in a couple of weeks, that’s not the time to tell him, “Pastor denies the Trinity.” I confessed the Trinity right along with you. I believe in the Trinity. But, I have to acknowledge that the word itself isn’t there.

And I think it’s good to try to hear it with Old Testament ears. Especially this, the very first chapter, and very first verse of the Bible.

In the beginning God created…

בְּרֵאשִׁ֖ית בָּרָ֣א אֱלֹהִ֑ים

In the Old Testament Church, God (אֱלֹהִ֑ים) was confessed as One.

שְׁמַ֖ע יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֵ֖ינוּ יְהוָ֥ה׀ אֶחָֽד

Hear, O Israel, YHWH our God, YHWH is One. (Deuteronomy 6:4)

And One (אֶחָֽד) means one. They were not polytheists. There aren’t competing gods, there are not tribal deities battling each other. There is one Creator over all things. Uniquely singular.

But… this is the key. There is a complex unity in God. And the text backs that up. Right here in our text it says,

The Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. (Genesis 1:2)

The Spirit of God, in Scripture, is not an impersonal force, ala Jehovah’s Witnesses. He speaks. He grieves. He leads. He empowers. The Spirit, the Holy Spirit, as we say, is divine. He is God.

And right here in the first chapter of Genesis we encounter another odd thing.

“And God said…”

God creates by His Word. Again and again the pattern is repeated:

“And God said… and it was so.”

The Word of God creates. The New Testament later connects this Word directly to the Second Person of the Trinity, the Son. St. John writes:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. (John 1:1)

God creates by speaking. Yet this Word is more than mere sound waves passing through the air. More than an abstract command.

The Word is with God, and the Word is God. (John 1:1)

Genesis leaves the mystery largely unexplained. Moses simply records,

And God said.

But John pulls back the curtain. The Word through whom all things were made is the eternal Son of God.

Where Genesis hints, John speaks plainly. Where Genesis gives us shadows, John gives us the name. The Word through whom creation came into being is the Second Person of the Holy Trinity.

But the Hebrew Scriptures are far from done with this point. All throughout we see the person called “The Angel of the Lord” (מַלְאַךְ יְהוָה, mal’akh YHWH).

His first appearance is in Genesis Chapter 16.

The angel of the LORD found Hagar by a spring of water in the wilderness… (Genesis 16:7)

The word angel in Hebrew means messenger. Angels are messengers. But the unique thing about the Angel of YHWH is that He doesn’t only bring a message. He makes a promise.

I will surely multiply your offspring so that they cannot be numbered for multitude. (Genesis 16:10)

This Angel is different from the rest. This One speaks with the authority to do what He says. They say, “Thus says YHWH.” This One says, “I will…”

So she called the name of the LORD who spoke to her, “You are a God of seeing.” (Genesis 16:13)

Notice what has happened. The text calls Him the Angel of YHWH. Yet Hagar identifies the One speaking to her as YHWH Himself.

As the Old Testament unfolds, the picture becomes clearer. The Angel of YHWH is distinct from YHWH, and yet He is called YHWH. He speaks as God. He receives worship as God. He exercises divine authority. He forgives sins. He does the things that belong to God alone.

The mystery is growing. The Old Testament Church still confesses that God is one. Yet within that oneness there is a distinction. There is someone who is with God, and yet is God.

In Genesis, the Trinity is not fully explained. Moses does not interrupt his writing to confess the Athanasian Creed. Israel confessed God truly, but they did not yet see Him clearly.

The Old Testament Church truly knew God. But they knew Him in promise, shadow, and anticipation. They saw hints and glimpses. They heard the promises. They encountered the Spirit of God, the Word of God, and the Angel of YHWH. Yet the mystery remained.

The full unveiling, the resolution of the shadows, does not come in the text of Genesis. It does not come through grammatical clues or theological deduction. It comes in a person.

It comes in Jesus Christ.

The Apostle John takes us back to the very beginning:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

Suddenly the shadows begin to lift. The Word who created all things is revealed as the Son. The Spirit who hovered over the waters is revealed as the Holy Spirit. The God whom Israel confessed as One is revealed as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

But even here the revelation is not yet complete. The clearest revelation of the Trinity does not come at Bethlehem, nor at the Jordan River, nor on the Mount of Transfiguration.

It comes at the cross.

The full unveiling comes in Jesus. It wasn’t a “The Trinity Exists” moment. It was, “Now we finally see who God truly is.”

To be sure, the veil has already begun to lift at Jesus’ Baptism. There we see the Son standing in the water. We see the Spirit descending as a dove. We hear the voice of the Father from heaven. The mystery is becoming clear. The God confessed by Israel as One is revealed as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

But it is at the cross that all the shadows of the Old Testament finally converge.

The Father sends the Son:

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16)

The Son willingly obeys the Father’s will:

Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me. Nevertheless, not My will, but Yours, be done. (Luke 22:42)

He suffers. He dies. He bears the sins of the world.

And the Spirit is no less active:

…how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God. (Hebrews 9:14)

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are all active in the salvation of the world.

And here is the great revelation. The Trinity is not merely a doctrine to be confessed. The Trinity is the God who saves. The Father gives. The Son is given. The Spirit delivers the benefits of Christ’s sacrifice. The God who created the world in Genesis is the God who redeems the world at Calvary.

Here we see how God is love.

Before creation, God was already relational. The Father loved the Son. The Son loved the Father. The Holy Spirit proceeded from the Father and the Son. Before there was a world to create, before there were sinners to redeem, before there was anything at all except God, there was love.

Without the Trinity, God’s love becomes merely something God does.

With the Trinity, love belongs to who God eternally is.

And that is what the cross reveals.

The cross reveals not only what God does. The cross reveals who God is.

The Father gives His Son.

The Son gives Himself.

The Spirit delivers the fruits of that sacrifice.

The God who created the heavens and the earth in Genesis 1 is not distant, cold, or detached. He is love. And at the cross, that eternal love is revealed for all the world to see.

If you want to know what the Trinity looks like, do not begin with diagrams or mathematical formulas. Look to the cross. There the Father gives His Son. There the Son lays down His life. There the Spirit accomplishes and delivers salvation. There, at last, we see clearly who God truly is: the Father giving His Son, the Son giving Himself, and the Spirit delivering that salvation to sinners. Amen.

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

Acts 2:1–21; The Festival of Pentecost; May 24, 2026

Acts 2:1–21; The Festival of Pentecost; May 24, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN

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

The history of the world is full of people who have tried to reach up to heaven. At Babel they tried to build a tower. World religions are full of people trying with morality. Mystics try with inner experience. Politics tries with power. That’s the nature of people. But Pentecost turns it upside down. God comes down to people. God acts.

At Pentecost the disciples weren’t seeking out some spiritual experience. They were waiting. They weren’t shouting revival in the streets. They weren’t seeking to create a movement. They were gathered together waiting…

Then the sound of wind. The fire appeared. The Spirit was there. And all of it was God coming down to them. At Pentecost God publicly revealed and gathered His New Testament Church. The church is God’s creation.

The apostles speaking in tongues is a bit odd, it seems. But the important part of it is that the people understood what they were saying. The tongues they were speaking were languages that the people gathered understood. God was preaching, through the Apostles. They were preaching Christ crucified, dead, buried and risen. And that was huge. Christ is preached, people understood. God wants Jesus preached, and he wants him preached in public.

Martin Luther said, “The church is God’s mouth house.” Pentecost fits that perfectly. God speaking though specific people. The Church continues as God’s public speaking house in the world. The Holy Scriptures. Holy Baptism. Holy Absolution. Holy Communion. All God’s voice speaking and doing what God does. Everything is external. The church delivers God’s Word.

There is a word for God working otherwise. It is called enthusiasm. The Greek word is ἐνθουσιασμός. It means having a god within. When the Greeks used it, they were referring to divine possession. Ecstatic inspiration. Even a trance-like revelation. A god speaks directly inside a person apart from ordinary means.

Luther spent a great deal of time speaking against it. He condemned mystical revelations, inner voices, direct inspiration claims, dreams treated as revelation, rejection of preaching and sacraments, spiritualism detached from Scripture. He spoke so fervently against it because fallen humanity wants direct access to God, spirituality without means, revelation without Scripture, and glory without Christ crucified.

Pentecost actually argues against enthusiasm. The Spirit binds Himself to means: words, preaching, water, bread and wine. Scripture never pushes people to inward private revelation. When the Spirit is at work, Christ crucified is forefront. The Spirit points us outside of ourselves to Christ. The Holy Spirit always rides in the vehicle of the Word.

It goes against our sinful human nature, but this idea is absolutely critical. Peter, in his Pentecost sermon, doesn’t spend any time explaining tongues. What does he do? He preaches. He preaches Christ crucified. He preaches Christ risen. He preaches forgiveness of sin through Christ’s cross. That tells you all you need to know. That is what Pentecost, the birthday of the New Testament church, is really all about. The Spirit does not come to replace Christ. He comes to proclaim Christ.

In a real sense, Pentecost reverses what happened at the tower of Babel. In Genesis 11, humanity was united.

“Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves.”

It was fallen people attempting to ascend to heaven by its own power.

The focus was “let us build,” “let us make a name,” human glory, human achievement, and human unity apart from God.

The tower of Babel was not merely about architecture. It was about pride. They were trying to have salvation without grace, unity without truth, trying to reach heaven without God’s mercy. So God judged Babel by confusing their language and scattering them across the earth. The very thing they trusted for unity — their common speech — became the instrument of division.

At Pentecost, humanity is again gathered from many nations: Parthians, Medes, Elamites, Romans, Arabs, Egyptians, and many more. But now God does the work.

At Babel, humanity tried to rise up to God. At Pentecost, God comes down to humanity.

Pentecost does not erase nations, cultures, or languages. God does not create one earthly culture or one political kingdom. Instead, He unites sinners from every tribe and language through one Gospel and one Savior.

The Church becomes universal — catholic — not because earthly distinctions disappear, but because Christ gathers believers from every nation into one body.

This is why Pentecost is so important for understanding the Church. The Church is not built upon race, nationality, politics, culture, or earthly power. The Church is created by the Holy Spirit through the preaching of Christ crucified and risen.

And that means Pentecost is not merely an event from long ago. Pentecost continues wherever Christ is preached faithfully. The same Holy Spirit who descended upon the apostles is still at work now through the same Gospel. That is what is happening here today.

The Spirit is at work through preached words. Through Scripture read aloud. Through Baptism. Through Absolution. Through the body and blood of Christ placed into your mouths for the forgiveness of sins.

That may not seem dramatic to the world. There are no visible tongues of fire resting above your heads. There is no rushing wind shaking the walls of this church. But the greater miracle remains.

Sinners hear Christ crucified. Sinners are forgiven. Faith is created. The dead are made alive. The Church is gathered.

And that is the true miracle of Pentecost. The world still searches for salvation in power, politics, inward spirituality, emotional experiences, and human achievement. Humanity still tries to build Babels. But the Lord still comes down to sinners through His Word. And where Christ is preached, there the Holy Spirit is at work. There the Church lives. There sinners are saved. In the name of Jesus. Amen.

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

John 14:1-6; Rollie Adkins Funeral Sermon; May 18, 2026

Rollie Adkins Funeral Sermon

John 14:1–6

May 18, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:1–6, ESV)

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

Jesus said: “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in Me. In My Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?”

I did not know Rollie as many of you did. You knew his life, his work, his stories, his strengths, and his struggles far better than I ever could. But there is one thing I do know about Rollie with absolute certainty, because it is true of every person gathered here today: Rollie was a sinner.

And I am not speaking ill of the dead. I would say the very same thing about myself and every one of you. Scripture says, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

And the proof is here before us today. “The wages of sin is death.” Death itself stands before us as proof that God’s Word is true. This is why hearts are troubled at funerals. This is why death grieves us so deeply. We know instinctively that death is not how things are supposed to be. Death is an enemy.

And yet, this is exactly why the words of Jesus matter so much today. “Let not your hearts be troubled.” Notice Jesus does not say death is not real. He does not say grief is imaginary. He does not tell His disciples to ignore sorrow. No, these words are spoken on the night before His own death. Jesus Himself is walking toward the cross. He knows suffering. He knows tears. He knows death. And yet He says: “Believe in God; believe also in Me.”

Rollie spent much of his life working, planning, building, and providing. You can read it in the obituary. Hard work from a young age. Physical labor. Engineering. Business. Investing. Building a life. Building a home. Finally settling here in the north woods that he loved.

And more importantly, building a family whom he loved deeply. Today, you feel that loss most deeply, Mary, Chris, Allison, Kevin, Cole, and all the rest of Rollie’s family and friends who mourn him today. And we feel it with you.

Death leaves behind a growing emptiness. An empty chair at the table. A quiet room that once carried his voice. Conversations that now live only in memory. An empty cabin by the lake waiting for someone who will not walk through its door again. And that grief is real.

But Jesus reminds us today that every earthly home is temporary. Paul says in 2 Corinthians that this earthly life is a tent. Temporary. Fragile. Passing away. And we know that is true. Homes decay. Bodies weaken. Strength fades. Wealth disappears. Eventually every earthly thing slips through our fingers.

But Jesus speaks of another home. “In My Father’s house are many rooms.” The old King James says “many mansions.” But the Greek word really means dwelling places. Abiding places. Permanent homes. Not temporary tents. Permanent dwellings.

And the center of that home is not golden streets or heavenly luxury. The center is Christ Himself. Listen again to what Jesus says: “I will come again and will take you to Myself, that where I am you may be also.” That is the comfort of the Christian faith. Not merely that believers go somewhere after death. But that Christ receives them to Himself.

Paul says: “To be away from the body [is] to be at home with the Lord.” The Christian dead are not lost. Not abandoned. Not forgotten. They belong to Christ.

And notice something else. Jesus says: “I go to prepare a place for you.” How does He prepare that place? Through His cross. Through His suffering. Through His death. Through His resurrection.

The comfort of today is not that Rollie was good enough. The comfort is not that he worked hard enough, or succeeded enough, or deserved enough. The comfort is that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. Jesus prepares the Father’s house by dying for sinners and rising again. That means the Christian hope rests entirely on Him. Entirely on Christ.

And there is even more here. Many people think Christianity teaches only this: you die and go to heaven. But the promise is even greater than that. Yes, those who die in Christ are with Him now. But the final Christian hope is not disembodied spirits floating somewhere far away. The final hope is the resurrection of the body.

Isaiah says: “He will swallow up death forever.” And that is exactly what Christ will do. The day is coming when Christ Himself will return. The dead will be raised. Creation itself will be renewed. New heavens and a new earth. No more death. No more graves. No more funerals. “This body in the grave we lay there to await that solemn day.” The dwelling Christ prepares reaches its fullness in the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.

And so Jesus says finally: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” Jesus does not merely teach the way. He is the Way. He is the narrow gate. He is the resurrection and the life.

And so this funeral is not only about Rollie. It is also for you. For your faith. For your repentance. For your hope. Because every person gathered here faces the same reality. The wages of sin is death.

But Christ has died. Christ is risen. And Christ will come again.

And therefore, for those who belong to Him, death does not have the final word.

So today we grieve. But not without hope. Because Christ has prepared a place for His people. And where He is, there His faithful shall be also. Amen.

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

Ephesians 1:15–23; Ascension; May 17, 2026

The Ascension of Our Lord, Jesus Christ

Ephesians 1:15–23

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN
May 17, 2023

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

Ascension seems a bit strange to Christians.

The Ascension almost seems like an ending.

Christmas begins something.
Good Friday accomplishes something.
Easter triumphs over something.

But Ascension can sound like Jesus simply went away.

As though the disciples watched Him disappear into the clouds and now the Church is left alone to continue without Him.

That is how many Christians quietly think about Ascension.

Jesus was here once.
Jesus acted once.
Jesus spoke once.

But now He is gone.

But the Scriptures teach the opposite.

Ascension is not Jesus leaving His church.

It is about Christ taking His throne.

Jesus Christ, the crucified One, now reigns over His church.

Lots of people don’t look at this Ephesians text as an Ascension text.

But it is.

It is exactly what Paul is talking about.

He speaks about rulers, authorities, powers, and dominions.

And to be honest, in our day and age, all of that looks like a mess.

The world is a mess.

Wars rage across the world.
Governments promise peace and produce corruption.
False teaching creeps into the Church itself.
Christians are mocked.
Churches shrink.
Death continues its relentless work.
Cemeteries keep growing.
Hospitals remain full.

And every generation of Christians begins to wonder the same thing:

Is Christ really reigning?

There is nothing new here.

The world is always the world; societies are built on corruption and greed.

The church faces the temptation to doubt Jesus’ words.

Even the disciples stood staring into the sky after Jesus ascended.

Into this doubt, Paul says God:

“raised [Jesus] from the dead and seated Him at His right hand.”

He uses enthronement language.

Seated at the right hand of God.

The power of God is there at His right hand.

Christ isn’t floating somewhere in space.

He is seated at the power of God, at the authority of God, at God’s dominion, and His kingship.

And notice:

The One who reigns isn’t merely God.

The One reigning is Jesus Christ.

The man born of Mary.

The One with the nail marks in His hands and feet, and the spear scar.

The One who was crucified for sinners.

The crucified man rules the universe.

Not Caesar.
Not presidents.
Not billionaires.
Not armies.
Not the devil.

The One ruling creation is the One who allowed nails to be driven through His hands.

The One seated above every power is the One who carried a cross through the streets of Jerusalem.

And that changes everything.

Then Paul pushes it one step further.

It is, in fact, the very heart of this text.

“And He put all things under His feet and gave Him as head over all things to the church.”

Over all things, Paul says.

But he doesn’t end there.

Over all things to the church.

To the church.

In other words, everything Christ rules, He does for the benefit of His people, the Church.

The ἐκκλησίᾳ.

The Greek word means “called out.”

Those Jesus calls through Holy Baptism, through faith, are the beneficiaries of Jesus’ rule.

We benefit from all that we see Him doing.

Just look at this church building—I see Him working here.

But that’s obvious.

He rules even in things we don’t understand.

He rules in suffering.
He rules in hardship.
He rules even in death.

There is nothing that happens that escapes His authority.

Absolutely nothing.

That means your suffering is not random.

Your hardships are not meaningless.

Even death itself has been bent into service under Christ.

The devil intends destruction.
The world intends chaos.
Sin intends ruin.

But Christ reigns over all of it.

And if you think there are powers outside His control, Paul answers that too:

“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
— Romans 8:38–39

Notice how Paul piles up the universe itself:

death,
life,
angels,
rulers,
powers,
height,
depth,
all creation.

He is exhausting language itself trying to make one point:

Nothing can separate you from Christ.

In other words, the One governing history isn’t your enemy.

He rules over everything in love, for you.

He is your Savior.

And being that, everything that happens is used for your benefit.

When we think that the Ascension means Jesus is absent, the Scriptures teach exactly the opposite.

Christ now fills all things.

He is here every time we gather.

He is reigning over His church through speaking His Word, through His activity in Holy Baptism, through His real presence in the Holy Supper, and especially through the forgiveness proclaimed to you.

The ascended Lord Jesus Christ is here now.

He isn’t here because you can feel Him here.

He isn’t present here because we use our emotions to climb up to Him.

We don’t gather around memories of Jesus.

The church gathers around the living Christ who still speaks and gives Himself.

Christianity is not nostalgia.

The Church is not a museum preserving stories about a dead religious figure.

Christ is alive.
Christ reigns.
Christ speaks now.
Christ forgives now.
Christ feeds now.
Christ is present now.

Paul prays.

The text is a kind of prayer.

He wants us to understand how Jesus is reigning.

He gives us hope in our calling.

We are ἐκκλησίᾳ, called out, the Church.

The Church is the ἐκκλησία — the “called out ones.”

Called out of darkness.
Called out of unbelief.
Called out of death itself.

Christ reigns for those He has called to Himself.

He calls us out of the world to Himself.

He gives purpose and meaning.

We have an inheritance.

Not only a heavenly one, but a new earthly one.

And everything He does is for the Church.

Why does Paul spend ink on those things?

Because we lose sight of Jesus reigning.

Christians see the world the way it is.

And Satan is pushing you to believe that evil is winning.

That history is random and rudderless.

That Jesus is distant.

That He left the church and abandoned us.

But Ascension says otherwise.

Jesus reigns now.

He is the One reigning over all heaven and earth.

And He is the same One who died and rose for you.

Ascension is not the story of Christ abandoning His church.

It is a public declaration:

Sin is defeated.
Death is conquered.
Satan is crushed.
The sacrifice has been accepted.
And the crucified Christ now reigns forever.

The throne of heaven is occupied by your Savior.

And He reigns for you. Amen.

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

John 9; The Fourth Sunday in Lent — March 22, 2026

The Light of the World

John 9
The Fourth Sunday in Lent — March 22, 2020
Life in Christ Lutheran Church — Grand Marais, Minnesota

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

Since our text is an entire chapter, we will walk through it together and make a few comments along the way.

“As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth.”

Jesus sees people in need, and He acts.

After all, He came in human flesh to suffer and die on the cross for your need. He sees your need for forgiveness and does something about it.

The disciples ask what seems like the obvious question:

“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

The assumption is clear: someone must be getting punished.

Think of Job’s friends.

But Jesus redirects the conversation. He speaks not about blame, but about purpose.

“It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

That is important.

Our lives are not ultimately about our own purposes, but God’s. This man’s blindness becomes the occasion for God to reveal exactly who Jesus is.

Then Jesus says:

“I am the light of the world.”

Jesus does not merely give physical sight. He gives spiritual light. He opens blind eyes so people may truly see Him.

John has already introduced this theme at the beginning of the Gospel:

“The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world.”

John 1:9, ESV

There is a conflict throughout John’s Gospel between light and darkness, faith and unbelief. And that conflict becomes sharper throughout this chapter.

Jesus spits on the ground, makes mud, places it on the man’s eyes, and tells him to wash in the Pool of Siloam.

Notice how earthly and physical this all is.

God does not deal with us merely through ideas floating around inside us. He works through external means.

Through mud, water, and His Word, Jesus heals the man.

And God still works that way.

He used the ordinary human body of Jesus hanging on the cross to bring salvation into the world. And He still delivers forgiveness through ordinary means: water, bread, wine, and His Word.

The neighbors are confused.

“Is this not the man who used to sit and beg?”

Some say yes. Others say no. Blind men do not simply begin seeing every day.

Then the Pharisees enter the scene, and division begins.

Jesus healed on the Sabbath. According to their man-made rules, this means Jesus cannot be from God.

But others ask an obvious question:

“How can a man who is a sinner do such signs?”

That is always the central question with Jesus:

Who is He?

The healed man says simply:

“He is a prophet.”

The Pharisees refuse to believe. So they bring in the man’s parents.

The parents confirm this is indeed their son and that he truly was born blind. But they are afraid.

Anyone confessing Jesus as the Christ would be cast out of the synagogue.

And so the questioning returns to the healed man.

The Pharisees become openly hostile.

“We know that this man is a sinner.”

But the man answers with one of the clearest confessions in all Scripture:

“One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”

The Pharisees cannot tolerate this testimony. They revile him and finally cast him out of the synagogue.

They remove him from the church—not out of love, but hatred.

But then something beautiful happens.

Jesus finds the man.

“Do you believe in the Son of Man?”

The man asks:

“And who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?”

Jesus answers:

“You have seen him, and it is he who is speaking to you.”

Then comes the confession of faith:

“Lord, I believe.”

And he worships Jesus.

St. Paul writes:

“Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.”

Romans 10:17, ESV

The man now sees spiritually as well as physically. Jesus has brought him into the light.

Then Jesus says something sobering:

“For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind.”

This chapter shows us something important:

Whenever Jesus comes, there is division.

God’s Word divides.

Sinful people—including us—do not like God’s judgment against sin. We want to excuse it, hide it, minimize it.

But Jesus is not from the world. He is from God.

And He came to confront darkness.

Jesus says:

“For judgment I came into this world.”

But elsewhere He also says:

“I did not come to judge the world but to save the world.”

John 12:47, ESV

And both are true at the cross.

At Good Friday, Jesus takes the world’s darkness onto Himself. He becomes the sin of the world. He suffers under Pontius Pilate, is crucified, dies, and is buried.

Sin is judged in His death.

But then comes Easter.

God raises Jesus from the dead.

He walks, speaks, and eats with His disciples. He proves that sin, death, and darkness are defeated.

He proves that He truly is the One sent from God—the Light of the world.

Amen.

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

Acts 17:16–31; John 14:15–21; The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost; May 10, 2026

The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

Acts 17:16–31 & John 14:15–21

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN
May 10, 2026

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

“Now while Paul was waiting for them at Athens, his spirit was provoked within him as he saw that the city was full of idols.”

“Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious.”

“I found also an altar with this inscription: ‘To the unknown god.’ What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you.”

“The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent…”

“…because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.”

In Athens, Paul confronted the idols and philosophy of the day.

There were idols everywhere.
Temples everywhere.
And conversations about truth everywhere.

Would he see the same thing today?

Of course.

Just think about it.

The Athenians had statues.

We have bank accounts, politics, entertainment, comfort, identity, technology, and self.

But Martin Luther says the same thing Paul saw in Athens remains true:

“Whatever you trust in and depend upon in trouble—that is your god.”

Paul and Luther agree.

What you run to in trouble;
what you fear losing;
what you trust in distress;
what you believe will finally save you;

that is your god.

You’ve heard Acts 17 so many times that it barely touches you anymore.

You shake your heads at the Athenians and their idols while lying in your own dirty beds beside idols of your own making.

You hear about carved statues and pagan temples and think, “How foolish they were.”

Meanwhile, we trust our own idols.

We push the truth about our own idolatry onto people we call blind and foolish, all while clinging to gods we have simply made more respectable.

The Athenians bowed before stone.

We bow before screens, bank accounts, desires, entertainment, reputations, and fears.

And Luther’s words cut straight through us:

“Whatever you trust in and depend upon in trouble, that is properly your god.”

That is why Paul was provoked in Athens.

Not because idolatry is strange—but because it is normal to fallen man.

And the worst idols are often the ones we defend, excuse, and baptize with religious language while pretending we are wiser than the pagans.

Paul was not impressed by the Athenians; he would not be impressed with us.

He sees people worshipping lies.

Our town is no different.

It’s not less religious, just less honest.

People do not naturally drift toward God; they drift toward something they think they can control.

That’s what the Athenians did.

With all their advanced philosophy, all their culture, all their effort, all they could really say was:

“We don’t know.”

They created an altar to an unknown god.

It was a safety measure. They didn’t want any god to be left out.

You hear these things every day:

“I think God is…”
“For me, God means…”
“All religions are basically the same…”

It is meant to be humble.

It isn’t.

It is a confession of blindness.

Left to themselves, people—that’s you and me—do not find God.

We find everything but.

We invent a god in our own image.

“What you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you.”

Paul doesn’t start a discussion; he makes a proclamation.

He proclaims that God, the true God, is the Creator of all that exists.

He isn’t just a part of creation.

The Athenians saw gods as a part of the created world.

The God who is the Creator isn’t served by human effort.

If He created everything, He doesn’t need anything.

He doesn’t need any help.

He is the one who gives life.

And He is near to us.

He isn’t discovered by guesswork.

He can’t be reached by climbing up.

He must come down.

With these thoughts, Paul destroys the idea that you can earn a place in God’s favor by doing good things.

He doesn’t need you to do that for Him.

He destroys spirituality that is based on emotion.

God is outside of creation.

Emotion does not create God’s presence or truth.

It reacts to what God has already done.

And he destroys the pride that goes with using your mind to bring God close.

With all these pushed aside, Paul shows that you can’t build a ladder or tower to God.

He must be the one who comes down to you.

And that is exactly what He has done.

But He comes with a demand.

“God… now commands all people everywhere to repent.”

Repentance is returning to God.

It isn’t optional.

Repentance is a word we don’t really like.

It requires a change of life.

He is not one path among many paths.

He is the only path.

He commands, and we must obey.

Why?

Because now, ignorance is no longer an excuse.

After driving the Law, the command, home, Paul continues:

“He has fixed a day… by a man… and has given assurance by raising Him from the dead.”

It all turns here.

Jesus Christ raised from the dead.

All of Christianity is centered on this point.

Christianity isn’t an idea born in the mind of people.

It isn’t fleeting feelings that turn and fade.

It isn’t a system that is used to get good things out of life.

Christianity is… a man.

Crucified and raised.

There is no neutral ground here.

Jesus is either raised after His crucifixion, or He isn’t.

If it is true, it means everything.

If He isn’t, it means nothing.

The truth of Jesus divides.

People mock the idea.
It strains scientific credibility.

Some people delay.
“Not now. I’m too connected to my life the way it is.”

And some believe.

The question isn’t:

Do you like Christianity?

The real question is:

What do you do with the risen Christ?

If Jesus, crucified, dead, buried, and risen, is the only true God made known… He isn’t neutral.

If He isn’t neutral, you must ask what that means for you.

The Athenians did not know the true God.

Their danger was real.

But ours is even more so.

We confess the true God with our lips while at the same time trusting gods with our hearts.

Luther’s quote still stands:

“Whatever you trust in and depend upon in trouble, that is properly your god.”

It is quite simple to test.

Ask yourself:

What do I actually trust when fear comes?
What controls my decisions?
What devastates me when threatened?
What do I believe will finally save me?

If, like me, you have doubts about these questions when push comes to shove, Paul’s preaching can be devastating.

You can feel alone, orphaned.

But Jesus says:

“I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Helper, to be with you forever, even the Spirit of truth…”

“I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.”

“Because I live, you also will live.”

In steps the crucified, risen Lord, Jesus.

In the Gospel for today He says:

“I will not leave you as orphans.”

The God who was unknown in Athens, and is undefinable by human effort, does so much more than reveal Himself.

He comes to you, and He stays.

He does it through the Word, proclaimed to you.

Jesus says the Spirit of truth will be in you.

The Spirit is in you.

He is not feelings.

He does not leave us to guesses.

Jesus is proclaimed, preached to you, right into your ears, right from Scripture.

That proclamation comes with promises.

The Word proclaimed creates and strengthens faith.

It isn’t vague unreliable words.

It is Christ’s own Word.

The truth proclaimed.

Jesus Christ, crucified, dead, buried, and raised, for you.

The Holy Spirit is key here.

Jesus says:

“The world cannot receive Him… but you know Him.”

The world still lives in “unknown god” mode.

It can’t do anything else.

But the church, Christ’s true church, has received the Spirit.

The world looks inward for answers; the church looks to Christ.

Jesus isn’t found by looking into yourself.

He is found on the cross and the empty tomb.

The Spirit points to Him constantly, through Word and Sacraments.

Through these concrete means, He keeps you in Christ.

There is nothing abstract here, nothing vague or unknown.

Jesus comes to you through concrete, visible, earthly things.

That is the Holy Spirit at work.

Holy Baptism is God putting His name on you with water, a visible common element.

And with that water and the working of God in the Holy Spirit, you are changed from struggling with an unknown god to being filled with the real one.

When you struggle with your doubts, when sin troubles you, when you feel too weak to go on, God sends His forgiveness to you through a spoken voice.

It is an audible, concrete thing:

“I forgive you, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

There can be no more positive assurance that you are forgiven than to hear these words—Christ’s words—spoken into your ears.

That is Confession and Absolution.

And then there is the Holy Supper.

Again common, visible elements.

Bread, you eat.
Wine, you drink.

And yet, Jesus is there in His very body and blood.

In it you become a part of Him.

You are given all that He has for you.

It’s too simple!

Yes.

But the Means of Grace are meant to be that way, because we need it.

In these Jesus is delivered.

He is not unknown.

He is not far away.

He is present, visible, and available.

“Because I live, you also will live.”

And there it is, the resurrection again.

The certainty of faith.

In Athens there was uncertainty.

They put up an altar, just in case.

Our altar is a confession of certainty, a symbol of Jesus coming to us here.

And it isn’t because we have struggled and figured it out.

It is given.

It is because of Jesus.

He died.
He rose.
Really.
Physical.
Provable.

He comes to you here in your need.

The world still worships an unknown god.

It still guesses.
It still searches.
It still invents.

But you are not left in that darkness.

The true God has been made known to you—in the man Jesus Christ, crucified and risen.

And He does not leave you there wondering.

He comes to you.
He speaks to you.
He gives Himself to you.

“I will not leave you as orphans.”

Because He lives—you live. Amen.

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

1 Peter 2:2–10; The Fifth Sunday of Easter; May 3, 2026

The Fifth Sunday of Easter

1 Peter 2:2–10

Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN
May 3, 2026

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

In our country most people don’t know what it means to lack food. Sure, there are hungry people, but very few people starve to death here.

But spiritual hunger—that is everywhere.

And the problem is worse, because you can be starving and not even know it.

You can go weeks without the Word. You can neglect hearing, reading, and receiving. You can assume everything is fine.

That is what Peter is talking about.

“Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation—if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good.”

This is not gentle encouragement.

This is life and death.

Newborns do not tolerate hunger. They cry out because they must be fed.

That is the picture of faith.

But we do not live like that.

We treat the Word of God as optional. We fit it in when convenient. We assume we can go without it.

And the result is exactly what you would expect: weak faith, shallow understanding, confidence grounded in ourselves instead of Christ.

The worst part is that we do not even recognize the condition.

We can be starving—and unaware of it.

And this is why neglecting the Word is so dangerous.

Because when you neglect the Word, you are not just skipping something religious—you are cutting yourself off from Christ crucified.

But Peter is not just exposing the problem.

He is pointing you to the gift.

“You have tasted that the Lord is good.”

And where have you tasted that the Lord is good?

Not in your feelings.
Not in your effort.

You have tasted it in Christ crucified.

The goodness of the Lord is not an idea. It is not a vague kindness.

It is this:

That He gave His Son to be rejected, to suffer, and to die—for you.

The One who is called the cornerstone first became the rejected stone.

The One who feeds you first gave Himself over to death.

That is what you have tasted.

And that is what the Word gives you.

Not advice.
Not information.

It gives you Christ—crucified and risen.

The same Christ who was rejected is now given to you again and again through the Word that you hear.

And that same Word—the Word that gives you Christ crucified—builds you.

“As you come to Him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house…”

Grammar matters here.

“You… are being built.”

Not: you build.
Not: you maintain.
Not: you hold things together.

You are being built.

God is the builder.

You are the stones.

And this is happening now.

Faith is not self-constructed.

The Church is not a human project.

God is building.

And what is He building on?

“Rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious.”

Do not soften that.

Jesus was not mildly dismissed.

He was rejected—condemned, cast out, crucified—thrown away by the world.

But that was not the end.

God raised Him.

And the stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.

The cross is not a detour.

It is the foundation.

And that foundation still divides.

“A stone of stumbling and a rock of offense.”

There is no neutral ground here.

Either you believe—and will not be put to shame—or you reject, and you fall.

Christ is either your foundation or your offense.

Here in our little corner of the world, we are building a church. Boards and nails, drywall and paint.

We can see it going up.

And it is very easy to think: that is the Church.

But it is not.

That building serves the Church.

You are the stones.

And what God is building here—through His Word and Sacraments—is something far greater.

Stone by stone, God is building His people on a crucified and risen Christ.

And that structure will not fail, because it rests on a foundation that has already been tested by rejection, by suffering, by death itself—and stands.

And because of that, Peter can say:

“You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for His own possession.”

This is not something you grow into.

It is not something you achieve.

It is given.

Once you were not a people.

Once you had not received mercy.

But now you are God’s people.

Now you have received mercy.

Your identity is declared through Christ.

There is no clearer place to see it than in Holy Baptism.

There you were marked as Christ’s own.

Not because you built your way in, but because He placed you there.

So yes, a building is going up.

And it is a confession.

Christ is preached here.
His Word is taught.
His Sacraments are given.

But that building will not last forever.

And that is fine, because it is not the foundation.

The real building is happening right now—as Christ speaks, as He feeds you, as He builds you into Himself.

The world rejects what God chooses.

The cornerstone was rejected—not misunderstood, but crucified—thrown away, put to death.

And that is exactly the stone God has made the foundation of everything, by raising Him from the dead.

Which means this:

Your life before God is not built on your strength, not on your faithfulness, not on how well you hold things together.

It is built on a crucified man.

The One who was rejected was rejected for you.

The death He died, He died for your sin.

The judgment He bore was yours.

And the life He now lives He gives to you.

So, you are not building your place before God.

You are being built—placed, held, secured—on a foundation that has already endured sin, death, and judgment—and stands.

That building we are putting up will be finished.

And one day it will wear out.

But what Christ is building—built on His cross and sealed in His resurrection—will not fall.

Because the stone was rejected, and God made Him the cornerstone—and in Him, so are you.

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