by Jeffrey Spencer | Jul 23, 2023 | Sermons
CLICK HERE for a worship video for July 23
Sermon for the Eighth Sunday after Pentecost – July 23, 2023
Romans 8:12-25, Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.
If you have a garden, or a yard, or lawn, you likely find yourself once again engaged in the perennial summer battle against weeds. I myself have a brick patio in the backyard upon which the battle has been fiercely fought. I don’t like using chemicals, especially in an area we use a lot, so that isn’t an option. Organic solutions haven’t worked very well. Picking the weeds out from between the bricks by hand is time-consuming and leaves my fingers scraped and sore. But this year I found a solution to all of this. For my birthday this year I got a flame thrower. (It’s actually called a weed burner, but flame thrower sounds cooler.) I fire that baby up and in minutes I have those weeds torched into oblivion. I sweep up the ashes, and my patio is clean and weed-free. It is a great feeling. I take great pleasure in it. Nobody likes weeds. Even when the weeding itself isn’t fun, like it is with my flame thrower, it feels good to get rid of them.
Last Sunday we heard Jesus tell a parable about a sower who scattered seed far and wide, and while many of those seeds failed to sprout for various reasons, the seeds which landed on good soil brought forth an abundant yield. This Sunday we return to that yield. Jesus tells another parable, another allegory from agriculture. Those seeds which were scattered last Sunday have become a full-fledged crop of wheat in the parable we hear today. But there’s trouble in the fields. There are weeds growing amongst the wheat.
How did those weeds get there? Did the landowner not plant good seed, some ask? No, that’s not it. The weeds are the result of what we might call an act of ecoterrorism. “An enemy has done this,” Jesus says. “While everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well.”
Those who work this land want to get rid of the weeds. We can understand the impulse, right? I sure can! “Do you want us to go and gather them?” they ask. They’re gearing up to pull them, torch them, clear them out. But the landowner in Jesus’ parable tells them to leave them be. “No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at the harvest time I will tell the reapers, ‘Collect the weeds first and bind them into bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.’”
The weed mentioned by Jesus in this parable is a specific kind of weed. In the Greek the word is zinzania, and it is a specific plant commonly known as darnel wheat, or false wheat. This particular weed is especially troublesome to wheat farmers because in its early stages it is virtually indistinguishable from real wheat. And not only is it troublesome because it is hard to distinguish from the real wheat, but beneath the soil its roots tend to intertwine with the roots of the wheat, making it impossible to pull out. If you were to try to weed out this false wheat, you’d pull out the good wheat out with it.
And so the workers are told to just leave them alone. They are to let the weeds and the wheat grow together for now. Those weeds will be gathered and burned, but it isn’t their job to do so. They are instead to wait with patience, trusting the landowner to bring in the harvest.
We don’t have to guess at what this parable is about. We don’t need to speculate about what Jesus is describing here. This is one of very few parables where Jesus tells us exactly what it means! He explains each part of the allegory for us: “The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Mon,” that is, it is Jesus himself. “The field is the world,” Jesus says. “The good seed are the children of the kingdom and the weeds are the children of the evil one. The enemy who sowed them is the devil. The harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are his angels.”
This image of a field with both wheat and weeds growing alongside each other is put to us in this parable as an image which describes the world we live in. It describes the age we live in, the age between Christ’s first coming and his final coming. And I think we can all see that this image of a field with both wheat and weeds is a starkly accurate description. On the one hand, the world is a beautiful place, filled with wonder and delight. There is beauty and there is goodness and there is love. On the other hand, the world is full of weeds. There is also much cruelty and corruption and violence.
This field of both wheat and weeds growing together is a good description of the church too, which exists, for now, in this field, this world. Luther liked to say that wherever Christ builds a church, the devil builds a chapel. The same sacred institution which has safeguarded the precious words of the gospel has also at times been the source of intense disappointment and pain for many. At times it is bravely and boldly faithful and at times it is a den of blasphemy and betrayal. At the congregational level, the same community of faith which so often envelopes us in love and care can also be the source of some of our deepest wounds.
And we find that the weeds and the wheat even grow alongside each other in our own hearts. One of the great insights of the Lutheran Reformation is that human beings are simul iustis et peccator, we are simultaneously saint and sinner. The Old Adam or Eve still dwells in us even as we have been declared righteous on account of Christ. Our lives are not without sin. Our hearts have not yet been made fully clean and pure. There are weeds that grow in us even now. Our sanctification is never quite complete in this life, on this side of heaven.
When we encounter the weeds of this world, we naturally want to pull them. We want to go after them and get rid of them. And in some ways, we should. Scripture teaches us that God works through earthly authorities to restrain evil, to create a measure of order in this world, to limit the damage the weeds might do. Scripture teaches the church to be on guard against false teachings. Matthew 18 gives us instructions on how to deal with problematic weeds that might crop up among believers. There are some ways in which we sin against each other that can’t just be ignored. Scripture tells us as individuals to strive against sin, to watch our behavior and to be careful about the company we keep. So we are not to be entirely passive in dealing with the weeds.
The problem comes when we want a pure field – whether that is the world, or the church, or us as individuals. The problem comes when we try to pull out every weed ourselves. The problem comes when we start torching everything that looks to us like a weed, and, in our self-righteousness, kind of enjoying it as we do so. That’s a problem because we can’t always tell the difference between weeds and wheat! We don’t have that kind of discernment! Furthermore, the roots of the weeds and the wheat are often entangled just beneath the surface! And so, in our burning desire for purity, some of Christ’s precious wheat ends up getting burned.
We can just think about utopian social movements like communism which have justified bloodshed and killed millions in the pursuit of a perfect society. We can think of how in the church our efforts towards theological purity have sometimes led to inquisitions and people literally being burned at the stake. Even our own personal efforts to weed out our every imperfection can become counterproductive and spiritually harmful as we start to trust in ourselves rather than in Christ.
The enemy continues to plant weeds – in the world, in the church, in our hearts. We shouldn’t become complacent about these weeds, these troubles, but we also shouldn’t think that we are the ones who are going to fix it. In this parable Jesus is describing how things are going to be for us as we live in the age between his first coming and his final coming. He is telling us to be patient. He is telling us to back off on the weed burner. “There are going to be weeds,” Jesus says. “They have been planted there by the evil one. But you are to leave those weeds to me.”
And so this parable ends as a parable of hope. Any field plagued by darnel wheat would be considered doomed in the ancient world. A farmer wouldn’t know it was there until it was too late, and come harvest time, it would be a total disaster. It would be beyond hope. Sometimes we think of the world in the same way – that it is beyond hope. Sometimes we think the church is filled with too many weeds to continue to bring life. Sometimes we think we ourselves are too weedy to be worthy of God’s love. But the punchline of the parable is that the Son of Man brings in a harvest! Even in a field where there is false wheat all tangled up with the good wheat, there is a harvest! Jesus, the Son of Man, the Messiah, the Savior, sends in his angels to deal with the weeds at last and to gather his precious grain into the barn.
We live in a hard time, an in-between time, where weeds and wheat grow right alongside each other – often indistinguishable from one another, often entangled in a complicated mess. As St. Paul writes in our second reading for today, the creation, in its bondage to decay, it its futility, groans in labor pains, even as we ourselves groan inwardly. But, Paul concludes, “In hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.”
Jesus’ parable is about patience too – patience with our troubled world, patience with a compromised church, patience with yourself, patience with God, who will redeem it all in the harvest that is yet to come. Jesus gives us a glimpse of this harvest at the end of his parable when he says, “Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!” This righteousness is not something you will achieve yourself by your weeding efforts. It is a gift given to you who have been planted in good soil. It is a gift given to you who have been adopted as children of the kingdom through Holy Baptism. It is a gift for you who have been watered by his grace so that you would grow in faith, trusting the promise that one day you will be gathered as good grain into the barn.
In the meantime, we live in hope for what we cannot yet see. We wait with patience, trusting that the harvest is coming.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer
Oak Harbor Lutheran Church
by Jeffrey Spencer | Jul 10, 2023 | Sermons
CLICK HERE for a worship video for July 9
Sermon for the Sixth Sunday after Pentecost – July 9, 2023
Romans 7:15-25a, Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and savior Jesus Christ.
As first John the Baptist and then Jesus went out with the message that the kingdom of God had come near, that the savior, the Messiah, their rescuer and redeemer, had come, some people received this message. Some people received Jesus and followed him. But many did not. Many refused their help. They didn’t think they needed to repent. They didn’t think they needed the mercy of God. They didn’t think they needed forgiveness. They thought they were doing just fine, that they were pulling their own weight under the yoke of God’s law. They didn’t need any help from John or Jesus, thank you very much.
You can hear Jesus’ frustration with this in the first part of our gospel reading for today. John and Jesus were playing a gospel tune, and many refused to dance to it. They criticized John for not eating and drinking, and they criticized Jesus because he did! This is how it often goes. When someone’s heart is set against someone, they will always find something to criticize! When they’ve already decided they don’t like you, you can’t do anything right! Many didn’t like John or Jesus, and they refused to hear God’s voice, whether it came through either of them. They refused to hear their words of judgement and their words of mercy. They ultimately refused the redemption, the salvation, the help, they came to bring.
And so we hear Jesus lamenting this refusal to receive his help: “We played the flute and you did not dance.” In verses 18-24, which are skipped over in our lectionary reading, Jesus laments this and warns about it even more sharply. (I wonder sometimes if some of those lectionary omissions are really about helping focus the text, or if they aren’t an attempt to soften Jesus’ reputation.)
After lamenting the stubbornness of those who don’t think they need his help, Jesus goes on to offer a prayer of gratitude to God the Father for those who do receive him. He notes in his prayer that the gospel was being hidden from those who were supposedly wise and intelligent, but that it was being revealed to infants. That is, it was being revealed to those who knew their need. It was being received by those who knew how dependent they were, how much they needed his help.
And then Jesus’ public prayer turned into a public plea: “Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
This was a plea to stop being so stubborn. It was a plea to stop trying to carry those burdens on your own. It was a plea to receive the help he had come to bring.
This might sound silly, but as I have been pondering this text all week I’ve had a memory from my youth keep popping up in my head over and over again. When I was a teenager my sister and I were enjoying a summer visit with our dad and step-mom and two step-brothers in Spokane. We were loading up my dad’s truck for a day at the lake. We had duffle bags with towels and sunscreen and frisbees. We had bags of groceries and coolers full of drinks. I loaded up as much as I could carry. I had a couple of grocery bags in one hand and a duffle bag slung over one shoulder. Then, with one hand, I lifted the watermelon we were going to take, resting it on my shoulder. My step-mom told me I was trying to carry too much. She told me I was going to drop that watermelon. She told me to have one of my step-brothers help. But I declined. I told her I would be fine. You probably can already guess where this is going. As I walked down the steps of the back door, the weight shifted in the duffle bag I had slung over that one shoulder and I lost my grip on the watermelon. It fell the five feet from my shoulder to the ground and exploded on the concrete of their back porch.
I think the reason this is seared into my memory is the extraordinary grace that followed. Because you see, when my stepmother came out and saw what happened, she didn’t scold me, even though that’s what I deserved. She didn’t even say, “I told you so!” which would have been entirely true. I think I remember her having a knowing smirk on her face, but she didn’t say anything. She just started helping me pick up the pieces.
As a teenager, did I learn from this experience to humble myself? Did it take me down a peg or two? No. But now, as a middle-aged man, have I learned to not try to carry so much on my own? Also, no!
You see, there is a stubbornness in the human heart that makes us believe we can carry it all on our own. There is a hubris in the human heart which makes us think we can pull our own weight. Even God’s people, us who should know better, have this hubris. As St. Paul confesses in our second reading, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” Even the apostle Paul himself was stuck in this stubbornness! We deceive ourselves into believing we are strong enough and smart enough and good enough, that we don’t need any help. This is bad enough in our everyday lives. It’s bad enough when you’re trying to load the truck up for a day at the lake. But it is even worse when this stubbornness makes it way into our relationship with God.
The world continues to be full of people who refuse the help God has sent. It is full of people who reject John and Jesus and the truth they bear. It is full of people who insist on doing things their own way, by their own power – and the consequences of this are all kinds of destruction and brokenness. The world continues to be full of people who are convinced that they don’t need to repent, that they don’t need God’s mercy, that they don’t need Christ’s forgiveness. It is full of people whose supposed wisdom and intelligence have blinded them to the gospel.
But this isn’t just something that happens out there in the world. This same refusal happens here in our sanctuary too. It happens when we try to carry too much. It happens when we refuse the help God has given us in his Son. It happens when we rely on our own strength and smarts and goodness instead of Christ’s grace and mercy and power.
None of us as Christians want to do this. It isn’t something we consciously choose to do. Instead, this old stubbornness creeps into our lives as we tune out the voice of God and our inner monologue takes over, telling us that we should be able to carry it all, that we don’t need any help.
I mentioned in my newsletter article this month about my pastor’s renewal program that in one of the sessions the presenter said, “You cannot do the work of ministry out of your own strength or smarts or cleverness. Whenever you try you will quickly become discouraged and grumpy and anxious and exhausted.” Those two sentences hit me right between the eyes. It showed me that sometimes I’m still trying to carry that watermelon.
What is true for me is, I’m sure, true for you too. What is true for pastors doing the work of ministry is true for all Christians as you carry out your callings in life. It is certainly true when it comes to the work of salvation itself. We cannot do it on our own. We cannot do it by our own strength or smarts. We cannot get there by our own power. When we try it just leads to anxiety and exhaustion. Ultimately, it can lead us into outright despair.
“Wretched man that I am!” St. Paul continued. “Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!”
God has sent someone to rescue us from this despair. God has sent someone to rescue us from our anxiety and exhaustion. God has sent a rescuer to save us from ourselves, to give us mercy and forgiveness and hope and peace.
The voice of this rescuer enters into our ears this morning, disrupting the lies of our inner monologue. “Come to me,” Jesus says, “all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
If you insist on relying on your own wisdom and intelligence, you won’t be able to receive this rescue. If you insist on relying on your own strength or smarts, you will never dance to the tune of the gospel. If you insist on carrying everything yourself, you will never know the relief and the rest that comes when you let Christ Jesus bear your yoke.
In our stubbornness we will likely continue to try to carry it all ourselves from time to time. Sometimes it isn’t until things come crashing down that we realize how foolish we have been.
But when that happens, our Lord Jesus comes to us once again with his mercy. He comes to us in the midst of the mess we have made – not to say, “I told ya!” but to help us pick up the pieces, to carry our burdens, to lighten our load.
Come to him, all you who are weary and heavy burdened – for he has come to you! Whatever sins or struggles or sorrows or stress you’re carrying today, give it all to him. Let him take that yoke, that weight, off of your shoulders. In him you will find rest for your souls.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer
Oak Harbor Lutheran Church
by Jeffrey Spencer | Jul 6, 2023 | Sermons
CLICK HERE for a worship video for July 2
Sermon for the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost – July 2, 2023
Matthew 10:40-42
Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.
Rejection. Disappointment. Attack. Spiritual warfare. Persecution. Betrayal, even by members of own’s own family. Not peace, but a sword. In some cases, death.
These are all the things Jesus tells his disciples they can expect as they go out into the world to announce that, in him, the kingdom of heaven has come near. Over the past few Sundays we’ve heard Jesus’ long speech preparing his disciples for all that was to come as they were sent out to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and now today we hear the conclusion of that speech. Jesus ends with a promise: There will be many trials, many troubles, to be sure, but they will not be left alone. They will not do this by themselves. They will not be on their own. Although they will face much resistance and hostility and rejection, some will welcome them! Jesus promises there will be some who will be there to provide encouragement and support along the way. They will be received by some with hospitality – and when they are, the rewards will be great for everyone involved.
Jesus promises that whoever welcomes them welcomes him. The disciples are his representatives, after all! They have been sent to bring his word, to speak on Christ’s behalf. And so, as they are received, Jesus himself is being received. This will be rewarded! “Whoever welcomes a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward,” Jesus says. Those who receive these apostles as a prophet with a word from God, those who support them in their work, will be receive the same reward as the disciples themselves. “Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple,” Jesus says, “truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.” “Little ones” in this context is a term of endearment Jesus uses for his disciples. These disciples are little in the eyes of the world, they are vulnerable and dependent. But they will be cared for. Even the smallest gesture – a cup of cold water – will help carry them along and will be noticed by God.
Whenever I hear this verse I can’t help but think back to my pastoral internship in rural North Dakota. I was so worried about how I would be received. I was coming from the west coast. I was young. I was green. I had given about two sermons in my life at that point. I just didn’t know what people would think about me, how they would receive me.
I spent the first couple of weeks following my supervisor around, getting to know the parish a bit. One of the men I met was a retired farmer named Mayo Swenson. Mr. Swenson didn’t say much. He was one of those quiet Swedes who responded to questions by grunting with a Swedish accent. He had this rough demeanor which scared me to death. I was sure he hated me.
On the first Sunday I was to preach I was pretty anxious. I was greeting people in the narthex that morning when, in my peripheral vision, I saw Mr. Swenson going up into the chancel. He leaned over by the chair behind the pulpit. Then I realized what he was doing. He was placing a glass of water on the armrest of the chair. For me.
It was just a glass of water, but it meant the world to me. This simple act was the bit of encouragement and support I needed. After worship I thanked him for his thoughtful gesture. To which he replied with his thick Scandinavian vowels, “Thank you for speaking God’s Word to us.”
I’ve received similar gestures from many of you – whether a literal glass of water or a card or a thoughtful email. I can’t tell you how much these small acts mean to me. They’re small, but they’re huge.
As you carry out your callings in life, your vocations, whether specifically in church-related ministry or other areas of your life, you are going to be battered by rejection and disappointment. You are going to face attack and spiritual warfare. You are going to face hostility and broken relationships. There will be times when you are overwhelmed and anxious and vulnerable and afraid. You have already faced many of these things, no doubt. You may well be facing many of them today.
But God does not leave us to endure these things on our own. God does not leave us to get through it all by ourselves. God does not leave us alone. There are those along the way who provide us with welcome and support and encouragement. There are those whose small acts of hospitality carry us through. We are not expected to be Lone Ranger Christians. In fact, even the Lone Ranger wasn’t the Lone Ranger. He had Tonto! He had a friend who walked with him through all his challenges.
This is why Christian community is so important. We bear Christ to each other. The Office of the Holy Ministry is established by God so that there will be pastors who bear Christ’s Word to the congregation, speaking on Christ’s behalf under vows of scriptural fidelity. That is true and that is important, but it is also true that ALL Christians bear Christ to the world and to each other. In the Smalcald Articles, one of our Lutheran confessional documents, Martin Luther went so far as to say that the mutual conversation and consolation of brothers and sisters in Christ is a form of the gospel alongside preaching and Baptism and the Lord’s Supper. It is that significant! Even the smallest gestures of welcome and care you show to each other are sacramental.
We commissioned three new Stephen Ministers last Sunday. As they were up here for the commissioning we had a slide on the screen with the Stephen Ministry logo and the words: “Christ caring for people through people.” This is such a wonderful, concise way of describing not only what Stephen Ministers do – care for people – but also who is behind it all. Christ is caring for people through people! As Jesus says in our gospel for today: “Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me.”
This is especially needed when we’re hurting, when we’re vulnerable. Stephen Ministers have been called “the After People.” As someone has beautifully written: “They are there after the phone call you hoped you’d never get, after the divorce papers are served and the bottom falls out of your life, after the funeral, when everyone has left and the emotions you’ve held at bay come crashing in on you. They are there after the doctor says, “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing more we can do,” after the nursing home director shakes your hand and says, “Welcome to your new home, after the last child honks the horn, waves goodbye, and drives away – and the house seems suddenly empty. They are there after the gavel goes down, the handcuffs go on, and your loved one is led away, after the baby arrives, demanding more of you than you ever thought possible, after you find a pink slip with your final paycheck, after your family and friends have heard your story one too many times, but you still need to talk it out.”
What do Stephen Ministers do? They are there. It is as simple as that. They are there to provide mutual conversation and consolation. They are there to provide confidentiality and compassion. They are Christ caring for people through people.
This is a specialized ministry with a lot of important training involved, and I hope you will make use of this ministry in those “after” seasons of your life. But I don’t mention it to try to slip a commercial for it into the sermon. I mention it because what Stephen Ministers do is both a beautiful example of what Jesus is talking about in our gospel reading, and it is just a more formalized and structured version of what we are ALL called to be and do as part of the Christian community. As brothers and sisters in Christ, we bear Jesus to each other. We are Christ caring for people through people, often in ways that are small, but huge.
Sometimes it means simply being there. When my oldest son was a senior in high school his girlfriend’s mother died very suddenly. He wanted so badly to be helpful to this young woman and her family. “What do I do, dad? What do I do?” he asked. And I told him to just be there. Just sit with her. Just listen. Don’t try to fix anything. Don’t try to explain anything. Just be there. It took a lot of bravery to walk into a house filled with that much grief, but he did. And weeks later I heard from the girlfriend’s father how much it meant to all of them. Just being there. Christ caring for people through people.
What we have in our gospel reading for today is both a calling and a promise.
The calling is to be there for each other. It is to welcome one another and provide simple acts of hospitality and care for one another, especially in our “after” moments. The church is so much more than downloadable content to consume. We are a community which practices mutual conversation and consolation. This is nothing less than a form of the gospel itself. It is nothing less than sacramental. Don’t lose sight of this calling.
The promise is that in your “after” moments, you will not be left by yourself. When you face rejection or disappointment, attack or spiritual warfare, hostility or broken relationships, when you are overwhelmed or anxious or vulnerable or grieving, Christ Jesus will come to you.
Jesus comes to us through his Word. He comes to us through his Supper. He also comes to us through other people. He comes to us through the sacrament of Christian care. He comes to us through a welcoming friend, a listening ear, even a cup of cold water.
These things seem little, but they are actually huge.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer
Oak Harbor Lutheran Church
by Jeffrey Spencer | Jul 4, 2023 | Sermons
CLICK HERE for a worship video for June 25
Sermon for the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost – June 25, 2023
Matthew 10:24-39
Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.
What are some things you are afraid of? According to surveys, some of the most common things people are afraid of include spiders and snakes. People are also commonly afraid of heights and of needles. Some people are afraid of thunder and lightning, or enclosed spaces. These are all pretty common, everyday fears. Many of these are instinctual or primal. They help us survive as a species.
Other fears go deeper. There is the fear of rejection, the fear of not having enough money to get by, the fear of the safety or health of a loved one, the fear of being alone. These kinds of fears keep people’s minds racing and their hearts aching.
Another common fear, of course, is the fear of death. I was visiting with someone this week who was asking about the differences between a cremation and a casket burial. I gently inquired as to whether this person preferred one over the other. She furrowed her brow and said, “Actually, I’m not thrilled about either one of them.”
In our gospel reading for today we pick up right where we left off last week. Last week we heard how Jesus sent the disciples out to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. He sent them out to share the good news that the kingdom of heaven has come near. As he sent them, Jesus warned them that not everyone would welcome them. He warned them that they would face hostility and rejection and persecution. He warned them that he was sending them out as sheep into the midst of wolves. He warned them that they would face hostility even from family members.
This had to have stirred up no small amount of anxiety among them. How could it not? As we pick up where we left off last week, Jesus addresses these fears. Jesus acknowledges the things that cause them to be afraid, and he alleviates those fears with perspective and with promises.
One of those fears is the fear of being maligned. To be maligned is to be thought of as evil. It is to be slandered. It is to be called derogatory names. It is, to use a modern phenomenon, to be cancelled. This is what people were doing to Jesus. Some called him “Beelzebul.” This term literally means, “Lord of the flies.” It was a derogatory term the Jewish people used for the false gods of their pagan neighbors. This term was being used by some to describe Jesus! Jesus was the farthest thing from a false foreign god, but this term was being used to malign and belittle him. And the disciples, Jesus says, can expect to be called even worse! “If they call the master of the house ‘Beelzebul,’ how much more will they malign those of his household!”
The Latin root of “malign” literally means to align with something bad. This isn’t unlike our own unfortunate modern phenomenon of aligning people with whom we disagree about some political issue with Nazis or fascists or racists or commies. Those terms are thrown around awfully loosely these days. It is a quick and easy way to end debate and malign someone you disagree with. And it is very effective in shutting people up! A recent survey revealed that more than half of respondents were afraid to share an opinion or perspective on something because they were afraid of the potential backlash. They were afraid of being maligned in this way. That’s what they tried to do to Jesus, and that’s what they were going to try to do to his followers too.
But Jesus told his disciples to not be afraid. He addressed their fears with perspective and with a promise. “Have no fear of them,” Jesus said, “for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known.” In other words, what they were proclaiming about Jesus would be shown to be true in good time. The truth of God they were sharing would be vindicated in the end. And so didn’t need to be afraid! They could be brave! They could be bold! They could shout it from the rooftops, without fear!
What if one of these maligners got a hold of them? What if they became violent? What if they were killed for their faith? I’m sure the disciples weren’t thrilled about this possibility any more than any of us would be! It was a legitimate fear.
But here again Jesus addresses this fear with perspective and a promise. First comes the perspective: “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul;” Jesus says, “rather, fear him who can destroy both body and soul in hell.”
Does this mean we should be cowering in fear of God instead? No! Remember, Jesus is trying to encourage his disciples here. He is infusing them with courage, not fear. This is a matter of perspective. Jesus is pointing out that God is infinitely more powerful than any adversary we face. God is capable of inflicting the deeper death of eternal separation from God. Jesus isn’t giving us something different to be afraid of. Jesus has come to save us from this separation. His death and resurrection has saved us from it. As Paul writes in our second reading from Romans, “If we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.” The point is not that we should be cowering before God, uncertain about our salvation. The point is to not be afraid at all! The point is that there are things worse than death. The point is to trust God and fear no one.
And with the perspective comes a promise: “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?” Jesus asks them. “Yet not one of them will fall to the ground unperceived by your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.”
Sparrows were the food of the poor in Jesus’ time. They were netted and plucked and put on skewers and roasted. Think of Wingstop, but without all the delicious dipping sauces. As strange as it might sound to us to eat songbirds, they were plentiful, and so they were cheap. Two for a penny, Jesus says! This was a main source of protein for the poor. There were skewered sparrows roasting on grills all over the ancient near east, and yet, Jesus says, not one of them fell to the ground without the Father knowing about it. God has that intimate knowledge about all the living things in his creation.
In the same way, Jesus says, he knows about you. Even the hairs on your head are all counted by God the Father! He cares about you enough to know these most intimate details, to actually count each hair! So do not be afraid. You are of more value than many sparrows. You, as a human being, have more value than many sparrows. You are made in the image of God. When the Word became flesh, it didn’t come as a tweety bird but as a human being, as one of us! God loves the birds, yes, but we are of more value to God, Jesus says, than many sparrows! And so we do not need to be afraid.
Perhaps the deepest fear plaguing the disciples is one we touched on last week: “What are my parents going to think?” To go off and follow Jesus posed a grave threat to family relationships. We hear how James and John left their father to follow Jesus. Poor Zebedee was left to run the family fishing business without his sons. We don’t know how he felt about that, but it isn’t hard to imagine some strained relationships developing. When Martin Luther decided to quit law school to serve God as a monk, his father was furious!
Jesus tells his disciples they can expect this to happen. He tells them he has come not to bring peace, but a sword. This is absolutely not an invitation to take up arms in the name of Jesus. When Peter drew his sword on the night of Jesus’ arrest, Jesus promptly told him to put it away. This is a symbolic sword. What Jesus is saying is that he will bring divisions, even amongst family members.
As mentioned last week, this is not something God wants to see happen. The fourth commandment upholds the divine order of fathers and mothers being at the heart of family life and worthy of honor. But at the same time, Jesus knows that the call to follow him will sometimes result in divisions even between these most cherished relationships. The disciples aren’t to be afraid of this either. They are to put him first.
Some of the fears we have are helpful. They are supposed to be there. Being afraid of spiders or snakes or heights or lightning helps to keep us from harm. But there are other fears which are not helpful. There are fears which paralyze us. There are fears which prevent us from following Jesus. There are fears which keep our mouths shut, preventing his gospel from being shared.
Like the disciples, we fear being maligned. We want so badly to be liked by everyone. We fear rejection. We fear what harm might come to us if we are public about our faith in Christ. In our time and place we are not likely to be killed over it, thanks be to God, but it could mean other significant sacrifices for us, sacrifices that seem scary. Some might even fear what will come of their relationships with non-Christian family members if they get too serious about their faith. There is a fear that following Jesus too closely or fervently might mean alienating loved ones.
Speaking to these fears, Jesus gives us perspective and promises. For perspective, Jesus reminds us that all the truths we confess about God which are currently only accessible by faith will one day be shown to be true. He reminds us that God is more powerful than any adversary or challenge we face, and so we should trust God and fear no one and nothing. He reminds us that God alone is worthy of our deepest love and loyalty.
Jesus not only gives us perspective; he gives us a promise: We are more valuable to him than many, many sparrows. He has the hairs on our heads all counted! He loves us enough to keep that close of an eye on us! Not one of us will fall without our Father knowing about it. We are loved and we are his. And so we have nothing to fear.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer
Oak Harbor Lutheran Church
by Jeffrey Spencer | Jun 20, 2023 | Sermons
Sermon for the Third Sunday after Pentecost – June 18, 2023
Matthew 9:35-10:23
Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.
Last summer we had a drive-in movie here in our church parking lot. We watched the movie “Overcomer.” As some of you will recall, “Overcomer” is about a girl named Hannah who, though she is asthmatic, runs cross country for her high school. Hannah makes it to the big state championship race. Her father, who is hospitalized, can’t be there to cheer her on, but he records an audio track for her to listen to through her earbuds as she runs. You see, Hannah’s father used to run cross country himself. He looked at the map of the course, anticipating the challenges and obstacles she would face. He timed everything just so, and told her to push play when the starting gun went off. As she runs, in her earbuds she hears her father’s voice telling her about the challenges she should watch for. She hears her father’s voice coaching her through the steep hills. She hears her father’s voice telling her he loves her and to not to give up.
In our gospel reading for today, Jesus isn’t sending his disciples out to run a cross country race, but he is sending them out to run a challenging course with many obstacles.
Jesus saw the crowds and had compassion for them. He saw so many people who were harassed and helpless. They were like sheep without a shepherd. They were set upon by predatory and destructive forces. Sometimes they were their own worst enemy. They were threatened and bewildered, hurting and afraid, wandering and lost.
Then Jesus said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.” Jesus saw these masses of people wandering aimlessly, limping and lost, as an opportunity. These are the people he had come for. This was the reason he came. It was time to gather them in. It was time for the harvest!
And so, in order to multiply his work of proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, Jesus commissioned his disciples to go out into this harvest, gathering people into his kingdom. Jesus gave his disciples authority to do ministry in his name. He gave them power to act in his stead, bringing his healing, his forgiveness, bringing new life in his name.
But this wouldn’t be flatland farming. This would be more like farming in the Palouse, with all its hills. Knowing there would be many hills to climb and much difficult terrain, knowing there would be many obstacles in their way, many challenges to overcome, Jesus gave them instructions. He coached them. Jesus knew it would be a difficult path. He knew it would be painful at times. Jesus anticipated exactly what would happen to them and he talked them through it all so that they would endure.
But this isn’t just a historical record of what Jesus said a long time ago. We confess that the scriptures are God’s living word for us today.
Like the disciples, we too are sent out into the world to proclaim good news to those who are like sheep without a shepherd: those who are lost, those who are wandering, those who are vulnerable to malevolent forces, those who are stubbornly going their own way. We as the church today are commissioned and empowered to gather in the harvest, to bring people into the kingdom, to do ministry in Christ’s name, so that they will know the healing and hope and new life he brings, so that they will know the truth that sets them free, so that they won’t be without a shepherd anymore.
Like the disciples, there are many hills to climb as we run this race. There are many obstacles in our way, many challenges to overcome. But through this living word we have our Lord’s voice in our ears coaching us, instructing us, guiding us, encouraging us. Our Heavenly Father continues to anticipate the hills and valleys we will face. He already knows the trials and troubles we will go through, and through his word, from the page to our ears, he talks us through it all! Let’s listen to this voice coaching us today:
“Go nowhere among the Gentiles,” Jesus says, “and enter no town of the Samaritans, but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Jesus told his first disciples to go to their own people, at least at first. This might have been like starting your kid out with training wheels, because later, after the resurrection, at the Great Commission at the end of the gospel of Matthew, Jesus commands them to make disciples of ALL nations, all ethnicities, every tribe and tongue. He tells them they will be his witnesses not only in Jerusalem and Judea, but in Samaria and to the ends of the earth.
But perhaps there is something for us in this instruction too. Opportunities for proclaiming the gospel are often close at hand. We don’t need to go looking far afield to bring in the harvest. There are people very close to us who don’t know or don’t trust in Jesus, people who are lost, who are like sheep without a shepherd. We can start there!
Jesus goes on to give instructions about traveling light, which is always good advice when you’re running a race. This is about trusting in God to provide what we need. It is about humbling ourselves to receive the hospitality of others as we carry out this ministry.
And then comes our first steep hill, our first big challenge: Some people will not welcome us or listen to our words, Jesus says. They will not receive the peace of Christ we proclaim. This is disappointing, to be sure. But we aren’t to be discouraged. We aren’t to let that rejection cling to us and weigh us down. “When that happens, shake the dust off your feet,” Jesus says, “move along.” Neither are we to get angry or judgmental over their rejection. We leave all of that to God.
But there’s an even steeper hill up around the corner: not only will there be apathy and unbelief, Jesus says, there will be wolves! “See, I am sending you out as sheep into the midst of wolves.” There are those who will snarl and snap at the Christian message, those who despise the Christian church. It isn’t hard to see these wolves among us today as our society continues its long slide into paganism and hostility towards Christianity. Those who prefer to be their own gods don’t much like hearing about a God above them. For those who are convinced of their own righteousness, the proclamation of forgiveness and the need for a savior is considered offensive. Those who kneel before the pantheon of self-defined truths do not like to be challenged by the One who called himself the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Hedonism, a philosophy which holds the pursuit of pleasure as the highest good, is increasingly becoming the prevailing philosophy of the day once again, as it was in the Roman Empire, and anything that challenges this unbridled pursuit or asks for any restraint or responsibility is viciously attacked.
It’s getting scary out there, to be sure, but before we get too anxious about it, Jesus coaches us through it. His word is put into our ears, telling us he already knew it was going to be like this. He tells us to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. That is to say, we are to be realistic about the fallenness of human nature and shrewd in dealing with it while maintaining an innocent, dove-like heart. Or, conversely, we are to maintain an innocent, dove-like heart without being naive or foolish.
“Do not worry about what you will say when you are under attack” Jesus goes on to say. “The words will be given to you at that time. The Spirit of your Father will speak through you.” It is not ultimately clever rhetoric or human reason or the perfect social media post even a carefully polished sermon which will ultimately matter in this struggle, but the simple words of proclamation that our Father gives us to say as we proclaim the good news of Jesus: “The kingdom of heaven has come near!” The words he puts in our ears will be delivered to our tongue, and that will be enough.
Then comes the hardest hill of all. Even families will be divided over the gospel. It is important to know that this isn’t something God wants. The last words of the Old Testament from the prophet Malachi proclaim that in the coming kingdom God will turn the hearts of fathers to their children, and the hearts of children to their fathers. This is what God wants!
The New Testament is filled with instructions and exhortations for encouraging strong, healthy, loving marriages and strong, healthy, loving relationships between parents and children, brothers and sisters. The Christian family is a microcosm of the Christian church, and so very important. It is a cell both in the body of Christ and the body politic, and it is so important that it be healthy and strong.
Jesus is simply acknowledging that faith in him will sometimes, for some people, bring divisions in family relationships. We know this is true, right? Sadly, we still see this today. I have people in my office on a regular basis trying to navigate relationships with loved ones who have rejected Christianity. It’s so hard, so painful.
An acquaintance of mine used to teach at a Lutheran university in Irvine, California. He had a Muslim student who converted to Christianity while she was there. When word got back to her family, she was completely cut off, financially and emotionally. She was dead to them. I’m not sure what they were thinking, sending her to a Christian college, but that’s how extreme it can still get today in some cultures.
But again, we hear our Lord’s voice in our ears, coaching us through it: “The one who endures to the end will be saved.”
This is NOT to say that our salvation is up to us. That would contradict everything else the Bible says about how we are saved by the grace of Christ through faith in Christ. That would contradict what Paul says in our second reading about how it was while we were still weak that Christ died for the ungodly. It is Christ’s work for us that saves us, not our own strength – full stop.
What Jesus is doing here is coaching us. He is encouraging us. He is saying that even when everybody hates you because of his name, DON’T GIVE UP. Endure in the faith. Hold on to him. Keep your eye on the finish line of his salvation. That’s what matters most.
Dear friends, hear the voice of your Heavenly Father in your ears today. First hear him telling you he loves you. Hear him telling you all is forgiven for the sake of his Son. Hear him telling you that he proves his love for you in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Hear him telling you that in him, the kingdom of heaven has come near to you.
And then hear him sending you out into the harvest, out to combine the hills of the Palouse. We have a mission to carry out. We have a race to run as we bring the good news to those who are lost and wandering, those who are harassed and helpless, those who are like sheep without a shepherd. There are parts of this race that will be difficult, painful even, but our Lord has already anticipated every hill and hardship, and he continues to put his voice in our ears, coaching us so that we will endure.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer
Oak Harbor Lutheran Church
