A sermon by Bishop Rindy for congregational use on May 15, 2011
Based on Matthew 25:34-40 (external link)

This weekend, the congregations of our synod are gathering in Fargo for our annual assembly. As we and they gather, we do so around the theme, God’s Work. Our Hands: Meeting the Needs of a Hungry World. This theme was adopted by our synod at last year’s assembly. Much of what they will be doing revolves around our care for the hungry.

The Bible is a big book. The Word of God comes to us through these Holy Scriptures. It comes bringing laws which accuse, restrict, guide, and shape us. The law even sentences us to death. These same Scriptures also reveal the Living Word to us in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ, who alone can raise us up to new life, where as it says in the Small Catechism, (and Romans 6) to serve him in righteousness and blessedness all of our days.

Living in North Dakota, we know about ditches. Ditches are actually good things. They help to move water. They help to point out the road. But when you are driving down the road, they are good to avoid. In times like we’ve been experiencing, ditches can even be fatal. It’s good to avoid the ditches.

In living out the Christian faith, there can be theological ditches as well. As good Lutherans, we know that we are not saved by good works. We are saved by grace, through faith, just as it says in Ephesians 2:8-9

For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; 9not as a result of works, so that no one may boast. (NASB)

But if we stop there at the end of verse 9, we can end up in a ditch. Not wanting to look like we are placing our trust on good works, at times we’ve avoided doing them altogether. After all, we wouldn’t want people to think that we’re working our way to heaven. We’re Lutheran! We know about grace!

If we read on to verse 10, we find out WHY we have been saved; our purpose in life: 10For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in
them.

While we are not saved by good works, we are saved for a life of God-given good works. As people who are so blessed, we are able to respond: we are response-able. As we live out this God-given life of good works, we are bearing good fruit, just as we were created to do. In so doing, we please God and put a smile on God’s face.

So while we are saved for good works, we are not saved by them. This is one ditch to avoid. Putting our trust in our own good works, thinking that God will somehow let us into heaven because we’ve been good, is in reality, putting our trust in something other than the saving work of Jesus Christ. Showing up in front of a Holy God with your own righteousness is a foolish thing to do. To be clothed in the righteousness of Jesus Christ through faith in Christ alone is not only the safest, but also the only blessed way in which to stand before God.

From time to time, the church has fought over the roles or importance of grace and faith vs. good works. The epistle of James reflects this well. Some people argue that we need to be a Matthew 28 church, a great commission church. This is true. Jesus’ commission couldn’t be clearer:

And Jesus came up and spoke to them, saying, “All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”
Matthew 28:18-20 (NASB)

As Lutheran Christians, we are to be in the disciple making business: Going, Making, Baptizing, and Teaching. This is most certainly true. Yet we are not only people of the Great Commission, we are people of the Great Commandment:

“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “„Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.? This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: „Love your neighbor as yourself.? All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
Matthew 22:36-40 (New International Version, ©2011)

Our texts for today and the Great Commandment show that love is quite important to God as well: loving God intensely with all we are is important. We need to be a Matthew 22 church. Yet how does one love God? Scripture gives us hints at how we do that. One of the most clear comes from 1st John. While this whole letter compels us to love, these verses sum it up well:

We love because he first loved us. 20 Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen. And he has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister.
1 John 4:19-20 (NIV)

We know what love looks like because of Jesus’ modeling it for us: laying down one’s life for one’s friends… not only for Jesus friends, but for his enemies, those who killed him, and for the whole God-so-loved world. This is love in action, not in just words.

This brings us full circle to today’s text. In caring for the least of these, we care for Jesus. In welcoming the stranger, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick & imprisoned, and giving drink to the thirsty, we are loving our neighbor. We are loving Jesus in his many and varied, distressing disguises. We are loving God. We need to be a Matthew 25 church.

So today, let us not allow the ditches to grab us, but rather let the ditches keep us on the road of being saved by grace through faith, while at the same time doing the works of love God laid out for us as response-able, well-loved children of God.

May our lives reflect God’s love in such ways that others will see our good works and give glory to our Father in heaven. May we feed the hungry in such ways that people might see how we love, fulfilling the law of Christ.

Amen

Rev. Terry Brandt, Associate with the Bishop

» Download the sermon: Secure in the Flock (download pdf file)

Imagine if you will, it is the middle of the night. A man sits in the darkness, awake. His name is Duane. Duane sits in the darkness on the edge of the bed. He does not need a light to know what is pictured and written on the plaque hanging on the wall above his head.  It is a picture of Jesus holding a lamb with the words “I am the good shepherd. I know my sheep and my sheep know me.”

He recites the words to himself in the dark:  “I am the good shepherd, I know my sheep and my sheep know me.”  Duane owns a small farm not too far from the river.  The waters have been rising, but he has done his work. The sandbags are in place.  The pumps are in working order. He is as ready as anyone could be, but it’s impossible not to worry. For Duane, the words of the scripture do not solve the problems of rising waters. They do not promise success in the fight to save his home and his outbuildings, but as he recites the words from John chapter 10, the rhythm and the power of the words bring Duane peace. The Holy Spirit moves. His worries ease a little. His mind still wanders, but he has peace in his soul.

These words of security, spoken by Jesus, are not only for Duane, but for you.

Security-it’s a really big deal for us. We want so much to feel secure so we talk about secure borders, secure portfolios, secure homes and of course, secure dikes. The word approaches us from every direction. We turn on the television and hear about economic security, national security, global security, social security. We like to feel secure, free from risks, and we spend lots of time and money to reach that desired end. We insure our homes, our cars, our lives, even for thousands and thousands of dollars. We invest in our mutual funds, our pension
plans. We sign contracts about job and wage security.

And, yet, despite all our best efforts, there’s finally no guarantee. We’ve seen it happen before. Though we invest, insure, and insulate our lives, there’s finally no guarantee. In a matter of seconds, it can all be stripped away.  Oh how Duane was reminded of that fact.  Oh, how we have all been reminded of that fact as the waters went higher and higher, as they spread further and further.

An extremely wet fall, followed by the deep snow from this winter’s unusually heavy snowfall began melting causing overland flooding and causing streams and rivers to flood all over the state.  Dramatic and traumatic images of floodwaters surging over roads, or inundating houses, or stranding people on the wrong side of the river will be in our minds forever.

We all know stories like these. We know people whose sense of security was suddenly stripped away. Maybe their stories are your story, and in living such stories, we know that life can be anything but secure. Life can be frighteningly fragile.

Today, we hear those words of Jesus that brought Duane comfort in the night. Throughout the 10th chapter of John, Jesus speaks of God’s people as a beloved flock and himself as the shepherd protecting that flock from thieves and wolves.  Jesus is aware there are lots of wolves. There are powers, principalities and calamities that threaten us as God’s beloved flock. But there is one power which is greater, one security which cannot be threatened. That security, powerfully pictured in today’s Gospel, is the promise that Jesus is the Good Shepherd and we are His flock.

Dear friends, that is the only real security that we know.  Though the waters of a flood can wash away and destroy much that it is valuable, flood waters cannot destroy the most valuable: God’s love found in Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd.

That’s the good news.  In all of life’s fragileness, one thing remains strong. You are part of the flock of the Good Shepherd.

So, what does it mean to live in that kind of security? It is this security which frees and even empowers us for action in the world. That’s why even after a flood, we can boldy gather as the Eastern North Dakota “Us” around theme, “God’s Work.  Our Hands.”  You see, the security that you and I have in God is the very thing that frees us to participate in the work of God to redeem the world. The assurance that we belong to the Good Shepherd’s flock is that security which enables us to confront the powers which strive so desperately to snatch God’s kingdom from the world. With that knowledge, we can take risks, we can tread into the unknown, we can become involved in the work of God in the world.

We can respond to crisis by sand bagging for a neighbor, dike building for a community, sandwich making for volunteers, praying for people you don’t even know, hugging a hurting friend or family member, or giving money to help rebuild lives.

In the 232 congregations of Eastern North Dakota Synod, we declare, day after day, week after week, the power of the risen Christ. Jesus claims the title of shepherd, pledging to look after the sheep, even to giving his life.

In our devotional use of passages like this, we may be tempted to use the words as though they are an elegant Hallmark greeting card from God. God saying, “Hope you’re feeling better, here are some lovely words for you…”

But the words of the gospel are a declaration that God gives more than mere sentiment. Easter is the celebration that Jesus of Nazareth, the Good Shepherd did not just come to say kind words and make smooth sentiments.  Jesus came to give flesh and blood to the declaration of God’s love. The power over death, the authority to forgive sins, the will and compassion to walk with us as a Shepherd, these are not mere sentiment.

Jesus is there for you. Jesus is HERE for you. No matter what happens- the path of the shepherd leads somewhere good.

Remember Duane?  In the morning Duane got up. He was not completely rested, but he had rest in his soul. Duane knew he may not be able to save his house from being flooded. He knew he may loss that battle. But Duane also knew he had a Shepherd and that was enough to keep him steady. May the same be true for you.

Amen.

» Download the sermon: A Post-Flood Journey through the 23rd Psalm (download pdf file)

A Post-Flood Journey through the 23rd Psalm

based on the Psalm for the day Psalm 23 (external link)

The Lord is my shepherd,

When the Lord is your shepherd several things are true.  First, sheep don’t go interviewing which shepherd they wish to follow.  It is the shepherd who purchases or raises them and calls them by name. Through water and the Word and our trust in that Word, God makes us His sheep.  Through the God-given gift of faith, we become children of God, heirs of the kingdom.  While growing up in elementary school, one could often hear words like “My big brother could beat up your big brother” or “My mom’s better than your mom.”  Having the “biggest and best” protector, provider, defender back in elementary school was pretty important.  It’s even more important now.

I shall not want.

In the Small Catechism, Martin Luther reminds us “God give daily bread to all people, though sinful” and that daily bread includes all that is needed for life.  We have had an amazing spring.  Instead of manna, as we have fought the storms and floods, we have seen God’s providing of “daily bread” in the forms of good government, amazing friends and neighbors (some of whom we did not even know!), and something called favorable weather.  While we might be inclined to argue with the Creator of the universe over what constitutes “favorable,” several times we have received what we needed just when we needed it.

All people receive daily bread.  [Optional Humor to make a point:  A farmer and his family brought his son to college.  They stopped as a family at a local eatery for lunch, where they were surrounded by lots of college students and  "city types."  The farmer lead his family in table grace and at the conclusion, one of the students inquired, "Hey Hayseed, does everybody do that where you're from?"  After a slight pause, the farmer replied, "I guess everyone except the pigs."] Perhaps the Good Shepherd wants us to realize where this daily bread comes from and to receive it with thanksgiving.

He makes me lie down in green pastures–

At the end of a long winter, any sign of life is encouraging.  On the hillsides of Israel, it can be a long walk between patches of grass.  Sometimes one can’t even see the grass, there is so much space between the blades.  Do you know green pasture when you see it?  Do you recognize those times and places when the shepherd wants you to rest?  So many times we don’t have time for life, wishing for some “better” day to come.  That thing about remembering the Sabbath… it is meant to be a gift from God to you and me.  The great philosopher, Yogi Berra, once said, “When you see a fork in the road, take it.”  Next time you see a green pasture, take time to enjoy the rest.  You may need that time of recovery for the journey.

he leads me beside still waters;

Perhaps you have had enough of water this spring.  The truth is we need water.  Our bodies need it to survive.  Water is becoming one of the most precious resources in the world.  In spite of our recent dislike of water, may we give thanks, even with floods fresh in our memories.  Martin Luther often spoke of needing to be reminded of his own Baptism. That water is a life-giving water… through it  he restores my soul by washing away our sins and giving us His righteousness.  Without the leading of this gracious shepherd to and through still waters, we would surely perish.

He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.

Have you ever wondered why the Creator of the Universe wants to be in relationship with you?  You are the crowning glory of God’s good creation.  You also have the capacity to drag God’s name down.  How many of you grew up in a small town?  You know what I’m talking about when I say, “Aren’t you ____’s son?  Aren’t you ______’s daughter?”  Part of the reason for the way in which you lived your life in the small community was to bring pride, not shame, to your parents.  We commission each “newborn soldier of the Crucified” to “Let your light so shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”  Did you catch who gets the glory?  (pause) Are you willing to share or even release that glory to the good shepherd who is leading you?

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil;
for you are with me; your rod and your staff– they comfort me.

Valleys can be wonderful places to live.  They are often filled with streams and meadows, sometimes even rich, flat farm land.  But as we have seen throughout our state this past spring, valleys can have attitudes, valleys can be dangerous, valleys can threaten life.  The strange thing about valleys is that without some high places, there is no valley.  While this may seem obvious, it is important that valleys are only for a time or season.  Even while we are in the deepest, darkest valleys, our Shepherd never leaves us.  The rod and staff that are meant to frighten off and defend against that which would assail us bring comfort.  We are not destined for destruction, but we are precious in the sight of our good shepherd.  In the novel, “The Shack,” the character representing God the Father often says when someone is brought up, “I’m especially fond of him or her.”  The main character replies, “You seem especially fond of a lot of people.”  God created you, shepherds you and loves you with an everlasting love.  Deal with it.  I hope it brings you comfort to know that God is especially fond of you. :-)

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

Have you seen the video on You Tube or even on national TV of the flood in Fargo set to music.  It will bring a tear to your eye, maybe even more than a few.   Bishop Larry Wohlrabe of NW MN synod commented “So many times disasters are called “acts of God.”  Yet the real acts of God are seen in the filling or passing of a sandbag by total strangers to help you save your home, in the making of a sandwich by hands too weak to  lift 40 pounds, in consoling phone calls and well wishes posted on blogs by those who are praying for you from literally around the world.”  We are blessed to be part of such a community, part of such a flock, sheep of such a shepherd.  In fact, it’s overwhelming if you allow yourself to feel it… it overflows… (pause)

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.

By now you can tell that this last verse is obvious.  It flows from all we have seen and heard in the verses before.   The great love we have witnessed from the best shepherd of all will indeed carry us though anything.  I mean that… anything.  There is nothing in all of creation that will be able to separate us from the Love of God.  Jesus has indeed gone to prepare a place for us so that where he is, we may be also.  And He will come again and take us home, where as beloved sons and daughters we will see and taste the goodness of God forever.  Amen?
Amen!

» Download the sermon: The Emmaus Road (download pdf file)

The Emmaus Road

Luke 24:13-35 (external link)

No one really knows where the town of Emmaus was. I think four villages currently claim the distinction. Nobody knows much about Cleopas or the other disciple who was with him on the road to Emmaus that Easter Day. But Emmaus will always be remembered, because Luke preserved for us the encounter on that road between Jesus and two crestfallen men.

You remember the story. They were crushed. They had pinned their hopes on Jesus, and now he was dead- and all was lost. I don’t know what was taking them to Emmaus. Maybe they just needed to clear their heads and get out of town.

In any case, as they plodded along and tried to make sense of that awful last week, a stranger fell in with them. As they rehashed what had happened to Jesus and to them, the stranger asked, “What are you talking about?” I don’t think they were very polite or patient, and I don’t know what they were thinking when the stranger began to tell them what it all meant.

I would love to have been there, listening, as Jesus retold the familiar stories, but from the vantage point of the power of the resurrection rather than miserable defeat on the cross.

Finally, they recognized Jesus. Why it took so long, I don’t know. But is seems fitting, because it took the disciples (and you and me, too, for that matter) a long time to figure everything else out about Jesus.

But then something odd happened. As soon as they recognized Jesus, as soon as they “got it”, as soon as they made sense of what he was saying – Jesus disappeared. Just as the disciples were ready to say “My Lord and my God”, and latch onto Jesus again, he vanished. He left. Can you imagine that? Jesus went to all that work, went all that way with them, staying with them until they finally caught on – and then, when they did see, he left.

Was he just toying with them? Or teasing them? I don’t think so. In fact, I think this “detail” of Jesus leaving is important. Jesus stayed with them until they understood, even when it took longer than it should have. Jesus was in their presence as long as they needed. But his leaving might be just as important.

Jesus is not our private possession. He will stay with us, with great patience and perseverance, as long as we need. But he will not turn into our possession. It is so tempting to want to capture Jesus, to put him in a box, to possess him, to have him under control. But it can’t be that way. It’s bad enough when we are tempted to do that with our friends and family, the people we care about. You know what happens when we try to “possess” another person – it ruins the relationship. Sometimes we want so desperately for somebody to care for us, or to provide what we need, that we just grab on tight and try to force the relationship into the shape we want. But you and I know that doesn’t work. Nobody wants to be a possession. The old cliché, “If you love somebody let them go; if they don’t come back, you never had them” is true. In any relationship of depth, it must be a mutually giving relationship one to the other. Neither one can be captured or possessed, and it is even more futile to try to possess Jesus.

Our Lord freely gives himself to us, but if we try to take him or grab him or possess him, he will vanish – as he did with Cleopas and his friend.

When Jesus did leave, after they gathered their wits, they probably looked at one another and said, “We are in possession of the greatest news anyone has ever heard. Let’s go tell the others; they will be amazed at our story.”

So they left their meal half-eaten and ran back to Jerusalem, bursting with the “scoop of the century”. They flung open the door to that second-story apartment where the disciples were still huddled, ready to astound them all, yelling “Guess what!”. They just needed a second to catch their breath from all that running, and in that momentary pause they heard their friends say, “The Lord has risen, and he appeared to Simon Peter.”

What? They got scooped. The greatest story in history and they got upstaged! If they thought they were in possession of some private and wonderful news, it took the wind right out of their sails. But that’s the point. It is clear that Jesus is not going to be possessed. We don’t even possess the good news about him. So now, as they share their encounter on that Emmaus Road, they are sharing their story. Sharing with one another what God has done and is doing. Listening to one another, sharing their experiences and insights.

I would love to have been in that room. As they are all talking and reminiscing and realizing how often they didn’t understand, and reiterating with one another how this Resurrection changes everything. Suddenly Jesus’ words take on new depth; now the horrible nightmare of Good Friday has a new ending; words and actions that seemed strange from Jesus are making sense. Together. Together they are remembering what Jesus has said and done, and in the light of Easter are recognizing them in a new light.

I am a lot like Cleopas and the rest, and you might be too. We want to hear and see Jesus. We want to “get it” and be disciples. But sometimes we are slow to catch on. And sometimes we just get it wrong. The good news is that Jesus stays with us, as long as it takes.

Then, when I do finally see, when the epiphanies come to me, I tend to be like Cleopas and want to hang on, and sometimes treat my faith and my Lord as my possession. But Jesus won’t let that happen for you and me, any more than he did with Cleopas.

In John Masefield’s drama “The Trial of Jesus”, there is a striking passage in which Longinus, the Roman centurion in command of the soldiers at the cross that day, goes back to Pilate to hand in his report. After he has finished, Prochula, Pilate’s wife, comes in and asks to talk to the centurion. As he stands before her, she asks, “How did he die?” And he tells her. And then she says, “Do you believe he is dead?” And Longinus looks at her and says, “No, lady, I don’t.” “Then where is he?” “Let loose in the world, lady. Let loose in the world where neither Jew nor Roman can stop his truth.” Longinus may just as well have said, “Let loose in the world. Let loose in the world where no one will possess him, and yet he will give himself and his transcendent treasures to his people in love.”

May this crucified and resurrected Jesus also come to you and me, as we walk our Emmaus roads in life. May this Jesus be let loose not only in the world, but in our community, our congregation, and in your life and mine. God be with us all. Amen.

-Rick Foss