Sunday, July 26, 2026

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.

Sunday, July 05, 2026

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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