Sermon for the Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost – September 13, 2026

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Sermon for the Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost – September 13, 2026

Matthew 18:21-35

Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.

Human beings are habitual scorekeepers. I’m not talking about sports, though I do have an app on my phone which updates me with the scores for the Mariners, Kraken, Seahawks, Cougars, and Aggies. I’m talking about the scorecards we keep on one another. When someone sins against us, we like to keep score. We like to keep track of who owes us an apology, who owes us a favor, who owes us restitution of one kind or another.

Our gospel reading for this morning begins with Peter keeping score. “Lord,” Peter begins, “If another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?”

Peter probably thought he was being generous here, and he was! Most rabbis at the time had a “three strikes, you’re out” policy. Peter upped the strike count to seven!

But Jesus took it even farther. “Not seven times,” Jesus replied, “but seventy-seven times.”

These numbers are hard to translate and so some of your Bibles have Jesus saying seventy times seven, which, of course, would be 490 times. But however you translate it, the point is the same. Jesus is calling for an amount of forgiveness far beyond anything anybody expected.

To make this point further, Jesus tells a parable. He tells the story of a king with a slave who owed him ten thousand talents. This is an enormous sum! I saw one estimate suggest that at normal slave wages this would take 164,000 years to pay back. This is a ridiculous amount, obviously exaggerated to serve the purpose of the parable. It was humanly impossible to pay it back – which is exactly the point.

The king decided it was time to collect his ten thousand talents, and when the slave couldn’t pay, he ordered his slave to be sold, along with his wife, children, and all his possessions. The slave fell to his knees, begging the king for patience. The king then had pity on him and forgave him the entire amount. Just like that, he was free from his entire debt. It was all forgiven. He was free.

Scene two: This freed and forgiven slave leaves the palace and immediately bumps into a buddy of his who owed him a hundred denarii. This was not a small sum – about three or four months’ worth of wages – but this man who had just been set free from 164,000 years’ worth of wages, the equivalent of approximately 60 million denarii, seized him by the throat and demanded payment. And when his buddy couldn’t come up with the tiny-by-comparison 100 denarii, he had him thrown into prison.

Scene three: The king gets wind of this and is furious. He has his slave hauled back in. “Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?” The man’s entire debt is reinstated, and the slave is to be tortured until he repays back every last dime, presumably for 164,000 years.

Jesus concludes this parable with some alarming words: “So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you,” Jesus says, “if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” This parable serves as a warning – to Peter, and to us, and to all who insist on keeping count, clinging to the scorecards we hold against others, looking for throats to grab.

Does this mean that our own forgiveness from God is connected in some way to our own willingness to forgive? Well, yes and no.

We don’t want to turn this into a transaction, a tit-for-tat. It kind of sounds like that here, but that isn’t how the God we know in Christ works. We have the rest of the Bible describing God’s mercy and forgiveness and salvation as a gift, not something we earn or achieve. Remember that the first scene in the parable is of a king who is willing to forgive an amount that is humanly impossible to repay. That is who our God is! We don’t earn our forgiveness by being forgiving.

But that said, God’s forgiveness and our forgiveness of others ARE closely related. When our hands are closed in unforgiveness, they are also closed to receiving forgiveness from God. When our hands are grabbing others by the throat whenever they might owe us something, they have let go of the mercy of God. Jesus is saying that if that’s what you really want, God will “hand you over” to that way of living – and it won’t go well for you. That kind of scorekeeping is its own torture. Holding on to those grudges is its own kind of hell. It is also a sign that your heart is not holding onto the extravagant mercy that God has shown towards you.

That’s what this forgiveness really is; it is a heart issue. Forgiving someone doesn’t mean not confronting others about their sin. Just last week we heard Jesus tell us to confront them! Forgiveness does not mean ignoring problems or minimizing when you are hurt. Forgiveness does not mean approving of sin. Forgiveness doesn’t mean not holding someone accountable for their actions. It doesn’t mean you have to trust someone who has proven to be untrustworthy. It doesn’t mean returning to an abuser. It doesn’t mean being a doormat.

Forgiving someone is a matter of the heart. It is a matter of releasing the anger and the bitterness that make you want to seize someone by the throat. It is an inner disposition that lets go of any need to get even or settle scores. It is the inner act of opening your hand to fellowship if that is at all possible and releasing all animosity even if it is not. When Jesus calls us to “forgive from the heart,” he is calling us to purge the poison of unforgiveness from our hearts, which only makes us sicker and sicker the longer we hold onto it.

This can be extremely difficult in some situations. I think that’s why Jesus taught us to pray about it. In the Lord’s Prayer, he teaches us to pray, “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Here he shows us that God’s forgiveness of us and our forgiveness of others are indeed closely related to one another. Vertical forgiveness and horizontal forgiveness are inextricably related to each other. But Jesus also shows us that he knows this will be a struggle for us, and so he teaches us to pray about it. He teaches us to bring those struggles to him for his help.

And Jesus not only helps us by giving us warnings. He also helps us by giving us perspective, which is also an important aspect of this parable. In this parable, with its exaggerated figures and high drama, Jesus is helping Peter, and us, to see ourselves not merely as the perpetually aggrieved who are owed something, but as people who have our own tremendous debts. Through this wild, hyperbolic parable, Jesus is helping us to see that our sin is much greater than we often think. The debt we owe God is a much greater amount than we realize, greater than we can count. You know those running tickers which show the national debt which is constantly going up, up, up – that’s us! That’s the debt we owe to God! That’s how badly we’re in hock! It is a debt we could never pay off on our own!

But the good news is that every last bit of this debt has been forgiven for Jesus’ sake. Our gracious and merciful Lord and King has forgiven what was humanly impossible for us to ever repay. All that debt is gone. All our sin has been erased from the books. We have been forgiven and set free!

This ultimately happened not through a parable, but through the cross. On the cross, Jesus bore our unforgiveness and all the torture that comes with it. Jesus was handed over for our sin, and he willingly took it all upon himself. Instead of lashing out or seizing anyone by the throat, Jesus offered his own perfect forgiveness, saying, “Father, forgive them.” Jesus willingly paid our debt in full, saying, “It is finished.” Jesus did what was humanly impossible for us to do for ourselves. Jesus purchased us with his own precious blood in order to set us free.

So what will you do now? Are you still counting? Are you still keeping score? Are you still looking for a throat to grab?

Every one of us has someone who owes us something. Someone who hurt us. Someone who disappointed us. Someone who said something they shouldn’t have said. Someone who betrayed us. Someone who never apologized. Someone who still owes us.

Jesus doesn’t tell us that what they did to us doesn’t matter. He tells us to remember what he has done for us.

Remembering what Christ done for us is what truly changes our hearts. This doesn’t necessarily come quickly, or all at once, but returning again and again to the throne of his grace is what makes it possible for us to forgive others from the heart as we ourselves have been forgiven, until we can finally throw away those scorecards once and for all.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer

Oak Harbor Lutheran Church

 

 

Sermon for the Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost – September 6, 2026

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Sermon for the Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost – September 6, 2026

Matthew 18:15-20

Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.

As you can probably imagine, people love to send me church bulletin bloopers –

you know, those funny examples of a misspelled or poorly chosen word which entirely changes the meaning of the bulletin announcement. Here are some examples:

“Don’t let worry kill you — let the church help.”

“Remember in prayer the many who are sick of our church and community.”

“The senior choir invites any member of the congregation who enjoys sinning to join the choir.”

“The council retreat will be hell on May 10 and 11th.”

“The church will host an evening of fine dining, superb entertainment, and gracious hostility.”

“The Temple Talk from our church treasurer is entitled, ‘I upped my giving. Up yours.’”

As funny as these are, I chose these particular bloopers from a very long compilation because each of them holds a kernel of truth about life in the church. The not-so-funny truth is that there really are times when we sin against each other. There are times when we get sick of each other. There are times when there is hostility between members of the church. There are times, intentionally or not, when we hurt each other.

And the hurt that happens in church can be particularly painful because we rightly believe that church should be a safe place. The hurt that happens in church is similar to the hurt that happens in family life. It hurts more because we have higher expectations in those contexts. It hurts more because these are the people we should be able to trust. It hurts more because we believe these are the places we should experience love and care, not hurt. Like our families, if church isn’t a safe place for us, it seems like nowhere is, and the world can then seem awfully cruel and hopeless.

I know church hurts hit differently because I hear about them all the time. They make a big impact on people. I’ve had people turn down invitations to serve on council because they have PTSD from the last time they were on it decades ago. I’ve heard of how people have bravely stepped forward to volunteer for something, putting themselves out there, making themselves vulnerable, trying something new, and then they are snapped at by someone for not doing it the way they think it should be done. That hurts! I’ve heard of people being hurt because they were overlooked or not included in something, intentionally or not.

The good news in our gospel reading for today is that Jesus knows all of this about his church. Jesus anticipates that church members will sin against each other. Jesus knows that when he calls a bunch of sinners together to live as brothers and sisters that there are going to be problems from time to time. I find great comfort and hope in the simple fact that Jesus already knows this about us! While church should be a safe place, while it should be a place of love and care and not hurt, and often is, Jesus knows that we will not carry out this calling perfectly. Jesus knows this and yet he calls us to live together as his people anyway.

And as he calls us together to be his church, he gives us a template for how to handle the inevitable hurts that happen when sinners are placed in close proximity to one another. “If a member of the church sins against you,” Jesus says, “go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one.”

Jesus instructs us to go directly to the person who has sinned against us and deal with it one on one, in private. This isn’t what usually happens, though, is it? Instead, people often go to everyone BUT the person who hurt them to air their grievances. And so instead of the cancer of conflict being contained, localized, encapsulated, treated – it spreads. It metastasizes. For the health of the body, Jesus instructs us to deal with it directly, one on one, while it is still encapsulated. He encourages us to be intentional about seeking reconciliation, catching it early. Jesus instructs us to go to the source in an effort to restore the relationship.

Jesus knows this won’t always work, and so he has a backup plan for us. If reconciliation doesn’t happen, Jesus instructs us to THEN bring two or three others into the situation. This is not to gang up on anyone. Others are brought in to serve as witnesses, as mediators to help sort things out. Again, the goal is to “regain that one,” to restore the relationship.

If that doesn’t work, Jesus says, it should be brought before the entire church. This doesn’t mean standing up in the middle of a service and pointing fingers. It means bringing it to the church authorities for their help. We have an entire chapter in our constitution dealing with church discipline, and our bishop’s office has a standing committee on discipline to deal with things when they get out of control. But even here the goal is always reconciliation. The goal is always to “regain that one” whenever possible.

But what if that doesn’t work? What then? “If the offender refuses to listen even to the church,” Jesus says, “let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.” What does this mean? It is highly debated among biblical interpreters. Some suggest it means putting the offender outside of the fellowship, keeping your distance from them – which is how Gentiles and tax collectors were commonly treated by pious Jews in Jesus’ time. They say it means establishing healthy boundaries, as we might say today.

This makes sense to me. There are times when this is necessary. For instance, pastors who engage in abuse or other conduct unbecoming the office of holy ministry need to be removed from their positions. Full stop. In some rare, extreme circumstances, unrepentant church members who are bringing grievous harm to the body need to be removed from congregations. Jesus, then, might be speaking to those situations where the hurt is too deep or the danger is ongoing and it just needs to be stopped.

Others, however, have pointed out that Jesus went to great lengths to bring Gentiles and tax collectors into his community. He continued to offer abundant forgiveness to Gentiles and tax collectors along with every other kind of sinner. In fact, Matthew, the very author of this gospel, was himself a tax collector at one point! Jesus has a proven track record of reconciling both Gentiles and tax collectors, so others argue that what he is saying here is, “If they won’t listen to you, and they won’t listen to the church, leave them to me.”

These two interpretations aren’t mutually exclusive, I don’t think. We can recognize that there are times when toxic people or situations require drawing lines and establishing boundaries, while at the same time we never give up on praying that repentance, forgiveness, and reconciliation would happen, trusting that ultimately it is Christ’s job to make it happen, not ours.

These instructions are very helpful. They are so important. Jesus is teaching us to lean into the inevitable conflicts that arise in church. He is teaching us to see every dispute as an opportunity for pursuing reconciliation, an opportunity for building community, an opportunity even for spiritual growth as we put our trust in him.

But Jesus gives us something even better than instructions in our gospel reading for today. He also gives us a promise. “Where two or three are gathered in my name,” Jesus says, “I am there among them.”

Jesus promises to be present amidst the bloopers. Of course we strive to be a warm and caring congregation. I think we’re better than most at this, and I think that because most of the time that’s what I hear from you. However, we come to church not primarily because of the others who are here and how they treat us. We come to church because it is here that Christ Jesus has promised to be. We do not come to church because the church is full of perfect people. It isn’t! We come to church because it is here that we encounter our perfect savior. Even in the midst of all the failings and sins of his people – which he himself anticipated! – Jesus is here, pouring out his gifts of forgiveness, life, and salvation. It is here in worship, it is here in his church, that Christ is present in Word and Sacrament to reconcile us to God.

“Where two or three are gathered in my name,” Jesus promises, “I am there among them.”

Because Jesus is here, the church can be place of reconciliation. Because Jesus is here, our hurts can be healed. Because Jesus is here, we are here too. That is why we come – because each and every one of us need the reconciliation he gives to us.

Through him, your sin is forgiven. Through him, our sin is forgiven.

As his reconciling grace and mercy are poured into us today, may they begin to overflow out of us as well.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer

Oak Harbor Lutheran Church

 

Sermon for the Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost – August 30, 2026

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Sermon for the Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost – August 30, 2026

Matthew 16:21-23

Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.

In our gospel reading for last week we heard Peter receive a flattering nickname from Jesus. In the midst of all kinds of wrong answers floating around about who Jesus was, Peter got it right. “Who do YOU say that I am?” Jesus asked him, and Peter responded: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Jesus was so thrilled with Peter’s answer, which God the Father himself had revealed to him, that he called Peter “the rock.” Jesus said, “You are Petros (which in Greek means “rock”), and on this rock, I will build my church.”

Now here we are a week later, picking up right where we left off last week in the gospel, and here things have taken a drastic turn. Peter goes from being a rock to being a stumbling block! Peter goes from being a mouthpiece for God the Father to being a mouthpiece for Satan himself! “Get behind me, Satan!” Jesus said to him, “You are a stumbling block to me!” Peter got called a rock, and then just seven verses later he gets called the devil. What happened?

Well, after Peter made his good confession, after he correctly identified Jesus as the Messiah and the Son of the living God, Jesus went on to teach Peter and all the disciples what that meant. Jesus taught them HOW he was going to save them. As St. Matthew tells us, “Jesus began to show them that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and the chief priests and the scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.”

Peter answered the “who” question exactly right, but he did not like what Jesus was saying about the “how.” He didn’t like what he was hearing about this suffering and dying business. We can hardly blame him. I mean, Peter cared about Jesus. He loved him. No one wants the people you love and care about to suffer. But Peter went so far as to rebuke Jesus! Can you imagine? Peter knew Jesus was the Son of the living God and he had the gall to rebuke him, to correct him, to scold him, to think he knew better!

Jesus tells us more specifically what happened to turn Peter from a spokesman for God into a spokesman for Satan, from a rock to a stumbling block. Jesus says that Peter was setting his mind on human things rather than on divine things. In his human way of thinking, Peter wanted salvation without suffering. He wanted forgiveness and atonement without sacrifice. He wanted a Christ without the cross. In putting his mind on human things rather than divine things, Peter was missing the very means by which Christ would save us from our sin. And not only that, but by setting his mind on human things rather than on divine things, Peter had entirely missed what would come AFTER the suffering! He missed the promise of the resurrection. He missed the part where Jesus said that on the third day he would be raised.

Peter knew the “who” part of the gospel. God the Father had revealed it to him! But now Peter was relying on his own wisdom. He was setting his mind on human things, and in so doing he missed the “how” part of the gospel – and you really need both!

Setting one’s mind on human things rather than on divine things was not just a problem for Peter. It is a problem for all of us. It is a common human reflex, especially in the breathtaking hubris of modern times. It is very common today to do exactly what Peter did, pulling Jesus aside, thinking we know better than him, correcting him with our modern sensibilities, thinking we’re smarter or more compassionate than God. To set our mind on divine things is to listen to Jesus and to trust that he knows what he’s talking about! It is to surrender to the holy wisdom of God’s Word.

After addressing Peter, Jesus turned to the rest of the disciples and said: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” Not only will Jesus have a cross to bear; we will too!

Those who follow Jesus are called to deny themselves. This is not a human way of thinking! This is especially countercultural in a world where we are constantly encouraged to seek self-fulfillment. “Follow your bliss,” we are told. This is countercultural in an age where the self is seen as the primary arbiter of truth. “Seek your truth,” we are told. This is countercultural in a time when the goal of human life is widely seen as self-actualization. It is countercultural in a society which exalts the completely self-made person and complete self-reliance. Both ends of the political spectrum and both sides in the culture wars have their version of exalting the almighty self. It is the default human way of thinking. But followers of Jesus are called to think differently. We are called to set our minds on divine things. We are called to trust the holy wisdom of Christ’s word. And Christ Jesus, the Son of the living God calls us to deny ourselves.

This is not so much about external things. It isn’t so much about depriving yourself of all earthly pleasures. As Christians we are called to a measure of self-restraint in many situations, to be sure, but this goes much deeper.  In calling us to deny ourselves Jesus is taking away one of our favorite idols: the self. He is telling us to not turn our “self” into our god, that to which we look for all purpose and meaning in life. This is about not turning your “self” into the final authority on truth. Above all, it is about not looking to your “self” for your salvation.

Life isn’t about finding yourself; it is about being found in Christ. Life isn’t about self-actualization, but Christ being actualized in us. It is not about following your bliss, which never leads where you think it will. It is about following Jesus. It is not about being definers of our own truths but humbling ourselves before God’s truth. It is not about being self-made but acknowledging that we are creatures who have been lovingly made and provided for by God. It is not about being self-reliant, it is about being fully reliant on God the Father and Christ the savior.

Jesus goes on to say that those who want to save their life will lose it, and that those who lose their life for his sake will find it. This sounds like a call to martyrdom, a call to die a glorious death for Jesus, so as to gain heaven. And it is true: eleven of the twelve disciples died exactly that kind of death. Only the apostle John lived to a ripe old age and died of natural causes. Every other disciple was martyred, executed for their faith – some of them on literal crosses. There are places in this world today where Christians literally lose their lives because of their faith in Jesus.

Thankfully that isn’t a likely scenario for us, but there’s another way of understanding what Jesus is saying here about losing our lives for his sake. Losing your life can also be understood as losing your “self.” I won’t bore you with a word study of Biblical Greek, but you’ll have to trust me that Jesus’ words here can be also understood as dying to your self – your self-centered ways, your self-defined truths, your selfish pursuits. It can be understood as losing your life as it currently is in order to live for something other than yourself. This, too, is countercultural. This goes against the default human way of thinking. But this is where life is really found. This is where we find life, Jesus says.

My wife and I were watching a Netflix documentary on the country singer Lainey Wilson. (I wish this was a Dolly Parton story, but it is very much in the spirit of Dolly, blessed be her memory.) Lainey Wilson, who is herself a rising star in country music, talked in the documentary about the demands of the road and the pressure to constantly produce and perform. She talked about the pressure she puts on her “self,” and how it was leading to anxiety and depression. She talked about how she ran out of “self”-motivation to keep doing what she was doing, and how it was leading to panic attacks and burnout. So, she called Reba McIntire. She told Reba about her struggles. Reba listened carefully, and then Reba gave her what Lainey called life-changing advice. Reba told her she needed to stop doing it for her “self” and needed to start doing it for someone else. The next scenes in the documentary were of a mom battling cancer who had come to one of Lainey’s shows. Lainey did that show for her, and it was electric. It showed Lainey inviting her backstage after the concert, hugging her and her family and praying over them. Lainey Wilson discovered what it means to lose her life, her “self,” and to find it again by living for someone else.

We might not be country music stars, of course. We might not have the same large-scale impact as someone like Dolly Parton or Lainey Wilson, but we are all called to do what we do for someone else. We are called as Christians to lose our lives, our selves, for the sake of someone else – for the sake of Christ. And the way we lose our lives for his sake is by living our lives for the sake of others – for your neighbor, for those in need, for your husband or wife, for your kids or grandkids, for your brothers and sisters here at church, for your community and your country. That is where we find life. We find it outside of our “selves,” in living for the sake of others.

We need both the “who” and the “how” of the gospel. Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God, and the way he has saved us is through his suffering, his death on the cross, and his resurrection on the third day. This gospel is what saves us. Christ’s work for our sake is complete. He needs nothing from us other than faith – and faith includes setting our mind on divine things.

And as we set our mind on divine things, denying our “selves” starts to come more naturally to us. As the gospel takes hold of our hearts, we begin to trust the holy wisdom of Christ’s word rather than our human hubris of thinking we know better than God. By the power of the Holy Spirit, we at least begin to live our lives not for our “selves,” but for Jesus, and for the people he puts in our path to serve in his name.  This is where life is really found, and it is a gift from the One who first gave his life for us.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer

Oak Harbor Lutheran Church

Sermon for the Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost – August 23, 2026

CLICK HERE for a worship video for August 23

Sermon for the Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost – August 23, 2026

Matthew 16:13-20

Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.

Who is Jesus, really? Some say he was a teacher of great moral truths. Some say he was a social activist who spoke truth to power and challenged empire. Adherents of Islam say Jesus was one prophet among many, and nothing more. Many atheists say Jesus never existed at all but was merely the main character in an ancient fairy tale.

Who is Jesus, really? For those of us who look to scripture to answer that question, we get a crisp, clear answer today from the lips of Peter and the pen of Matthew.

Jesus asked his disciples what people were saying about him, who people thought he was. Some thought Jesus was John the Baptist. Some thought he was Elijah. Still others thought he might be Jeremiah or another of the prophets. “But who do you say that I am,” Jesus asked. Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” And Jesus replied, “Blessed are you, Simon Son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.”

In other words, this great confession of faith did not come to Peter because he was wise or committed or spiritually accomplished. Peter did not conjure up this answer himself. It was given to him as a gift. God the Father revealed it to him, Jesus said. God put the correct answer on Peter’s lips, and Matthew, in recording what Peter said, put it to paper for all of us to see, so that we would know who Jesus really is too!

Jesus is the Messiah. “Messiah” or mashiac in Hebrew, simply means “anointed.” At its most basic level it literally means “someone who has been dabbed on the forehead with oil.” However, anointing was used to mark someone for a special office or calling. People were anointed to serve as prophets. People were anointed to serve as priests. People were anointed to serve as kings. Over time the word Messiah became a title associated with the one God promised to send to be the ultimate prophet, bringing the fullness of God’s word to people. It became associated with the one God promised to send to be the ultimate priest, the ultimate intermediary, giving people access to God. It became associated with the one God promised to send to be the ultimate king, the one who would usher in the kingdom of God. And so when Jesus asked the disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” and Peter replied, “You are the Messiah,” he was saying a lot! God had revealed to him that Jesus was the fulfillment of all God’s promises to speak his word to us, to give us access to himself, to bring us into his kingdom. Jesus was the Messiah who would do all these things!

Peter also said that Jesus was “the Son of the living God.” Peter was saying a lot here too! As the Son of the living God Jesus is uniquely qualified to show us God. He is uniquely qualified to speak for God. He is the embodiment of a living God – an active, involved, personal God who is present in and through the life and ministry of his Son. And so God revealed to Peter that when we look at and listen to Jesus, we see and hear the true and living God.

Jesus called Peter blessed. He was blessed! He had been blessed by God the Father, who revealed to Peter the truth about his Son. And then Jesus said to him: “You are Peter, and on this rock, I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.”

There’s a little bit of wordplay going on here. Peter, petros in Greek, literally means “rock.” So, Jesus is having fun with Peter’s name. But Jesus is also making a huge promise here. Jesus promises to build his church on this rock. So what is this rock?

Well, I’ll tell you what it isn’t. It isn’t Peter the person. Peter the person could be a little rocky. Our gospel reading ends at verse 20, but if you keep reading just three verses beyond that, Jesus is calling Peter Satan and telling him to get behind him! A few chapters later, Peter will deny and abandon Jesus. It is true that after the resurrection Peter becomes a bold and powerful preacher. It is fair to call Peter the first pope, as our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters like to do. He was the first leader of the Christian church; there’s no doubt about it. But even after the resurrection we find Peter compromising the gospel and needing correction from Paul – a story we hear about in Paul’s letter to the Galatians.

Jesus does build a church, and he does build it on a rock – but that rock is not the person of Peter. The rock is the word Peter proclaimed, the word which was revealed to him by God the Father. The rock is the good news that Jesus is the Messiah and the Son of the living God. The rock is the public proclamation of the truth of who Jesus really is. The foundation of the church is the word that the Father himself has given us to share with the world. The moment the church or any of its preachers stray from that word and try to do their own thing, Jesus says to them, “Get behind me, Satan!”

The church as an institution has often been a source of great disappointment for many people. We live in a time of widespread distrust of institutions, including the church – often for good reason. We sometimes find ourselves deeply embarrassed by the dumb things said or the wicked things done by people wearing a cross or a collar.

This can be deeply troubling at times. It bothers me too. But it is nothing new. St. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians that “we have this treasure in clay jars,” or “we have this treasure in earthen vessels,” or, in my favorite translation, “we have this treasure in cracked pots.” This verse refers to how the very human church as an institution is deeply flawed and frequently disappointing. And yet, it contains a treasure. It has the word of God. It has the truth about Jesus. It has the good news that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God.  The church is holy, but it is only holy insofar as it bears this truth, this treasure. The office of the holy ministry is established by God, but this office is inseparable from the word. Those called to this office are only authorized to proclaim what God the Father has revealed in his word. The rock upon which Jesus builds his church is the word revealed by the Father and confessed by Peter, and ultimately nothing will ever budge or break this rock – even the gates of Hades will not prevail against it!

This rock is the foundation and the guide for our lives as Christians, and we desperately need it. In a confusing world with many different claims to what is true, we need this rock. In a world with so many different voices pulling us in different directions, we need this rock.

When my wife and I were in Hawaii this summer we hiked the Kilauea Iki trail, a four-mile loop which begins and ends in tropical forest but takes you through the middle of a volcanic caldera. The caldera part was such a contrast to the tropical forest. It was fascinating, but I certainly wouldn’t call it pretty. It was stark and barren. There were parts that looked like a moonscape. There were parts that looked like a freeway after an earthquake. There were parts that were just a huge open expanse of empty space. There was no regular trail in the caldera, like there was in the tropical forest, and so in several places we were confused about which way to go. But then we started noticing these carefully stacked piles of rocks which were placed strategically along the way. These rock piles are sometimes called cairns, and hikers use them to help mark the way. Those rocks were our guide. Those rocks showed us the way. Those rocks kept us on the correct path. Those rocks kept us from wandering away and getting lost.

As we make our way through life, we need guidance – especially through the stark and barren and confusing parts. We need those markers along the way. God’s word is that guide. The word revealed to us by the Father is the cairn that keeps us going the right direction, leading us into the truth. Sunday after Sunday, we come to another pile of rocks which show us the way. Every time we turn to God’s word, we are nudged back onto the right path. God’s word not only guides our behavior, though it should. It not only teaches us God’s will for us, though it does that too. God’s word guides us into the truth about Jesus, who is the way, and the truth, and the life.

Who is Jesus, really? He is the Messiah, the Son of the living God.

When Peter made this good confession Jesus said to him: “Blessed are you, Simon Son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.”

Blessed are you, too. Because today God the Father has revealed to you the truth about his Son.

Keep close to this rock, and you will never be lost.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer

Oak Harbor Lutheran Church

Sermon for the Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost – August 16, 2026

CLICK HERE for a worship video for August 16

Sermon for the Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost – August 16, 2026

Matthew 15:10-28

Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.

A Canaanite woman cried out to Jesus, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David.”

The fact that she is a Canaanite woman is significant. The Canaanites were the ancient enemies of God’s people, Israel. The Canaanites are described repeatedly in the Bible as a wicked and idolatrous people. Descended from a cursed grandson of Noah, they rejected the true God in favor of a pantheon of false gods with names like Baal and Molech. The prophets warned and archaeology confirms that the Canaanites offered human sacrifices to these false gods, including the sacrifice of children. They were thus despised by the Israelites, who referred to them as dogs. It was not a term of endearment.

This was her background. These were her people. And yet this Canaanite woman believed that this Jewish rabbi, Jesus, could help her. She cried out to him, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David!” This was Jewish lingo she was using. She was using Jewish terms and Jewish titles to refer to Jesus. She called him Lord. She used the messianic title, “Son of David.” Somehow, some way, she knew that the Jews were expecting a messiah, a savior, from the line of David. Somehow, some way, she believed Jesus was that messiah. And somehow, some way, she believed this Jewish messiah could help her – a Canaanite woman.

Maybe it was a hope rooted in her desperation. After all, she was experiencing one of the worst things a human being can experience. She had a child who was suffering. The best description of being a parent I’ve ever heard is that for each child you have you grow another heart, only this one lives outside of your body. The love you feel is fierce and intense and profound. You want nothing more than for them to be well. And when they suffer, you feel a piercing of your own heart, and you would do anything to make that suffering stop. Maybe that’s what had this Canaanite woman crying out to Jesus. She had no right to expect anything from him, but she was desperate. Her child was suffering.

“Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David;” she said, “my daughter is tormented by a demon.” We don’t know what sort of demon she was facing exactly, but the word “tormented” tells us everything we need to know. Her daughter was not well.

And what do the scriptures tell us about how Jesus responded? They say, “But he did not answer her at all.” Her cries were met with silence.

Undeterred, she kept on pleading for his help. She kept on pleading to the point that the disciples asked Jesus to send her away. Now, finally, Jesus had something to say to her. He said, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”

I’m not sure which is worse, the silence, or this remark, which is the equivalent of a big fat “No.”   But once again, this woman would not give up. This Canaanite woman knelt before this Jewish messiah: “Lord, help me,” she said. Surely now he would help her, right? But Jesus said, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

Preachers have been trying to do damage control ever since.

Bible scholars have long tried to make sense of Jesus’ words here. Some have suggested Jesus was testing her. Some say he was testing the disciples. Some say he had a sparkle in his eye when he said it and was only joking. Some say he was tired and cranky after a busy couple of days with no rest. Some have said Jesus was just using the common language of his time and culture. Others have said he was only following God’s timeline, which was Jews first, Gentiles later. Some point out that Jesus uses the term for little dog, or pet, instead of the term for a street dog, so it isn’t as mean as it sounds.

One unfortunate take which has gotten some traction in some circles recently is that Jesus is being taught here to examine his prejudices and that this was the diversity training he needed.  (This is very bad theology. The sinless Son of God, the second person of the Trinity, through whom all things were made, needs sensitivity lessons from no one. Beware of preachers who fancy themselves to be more righteous than Jesus.)

Jesus’ words do sound offensive to our modern ears, and there might be something to some of those explanations, but we shouldn’t be more offended by Jesus’ response than the Canaanite woman herself was, and she doesn’t seem to be offended at all.  Instead, she grabs on to Christ’s words as though they were a lifeline to her. She uses them to get her foot in the door. “Yes Lord,” she says, “yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” She is happy to be called a dog if it means Jesus is her master! She doesn’t mind being called a dog if it means she can eat the crumbs from his table! After all, there isn’t that much difference between dogs and lost sheep. They both need help from the master, like all sinners do!

And at last, Jesus responds to her need. “Woman, great is your faith!” Jesus says. Now he addresses her not as a dog, but as a woman, as a daughter of Eve. Now he praises her for her faith, which he describes as great – in stark contrast to the faith of his disciples which he had just recently called little. Now he gives her a place at his table, blessing her with more than crumbs. He gives her the full meal deal! “Let it be done for you as you wish,” Jesus said. Her prayer was answered. Her daughter was made well.

As Martin Luther said in a sermon on this passage: “Thus, she catches Christ in his own words, and [Jesus] is happy to be caught. She catches Christ the Lord in his own words and with that wins not only the right of a dog, but that of the [sheep]. Now then, where will he go, our dear Jesus? He let himself be made captive and must comply. Be sure of this: That is what he most deeply desires.”

Luther didn’t try to apologize for Jesus. He didn’t try to explain his responses away. Luther leaves the offense there, but looks to where it led and what it illustrates. Luther saw this whole scene as a picture of the Christian life. He saw it as a picture of faith and especially as a picture of prayer.   In the same sermon Luther wrote: “From it we are to learn that nothing, not even the throes of death, must deter us from calling upon God in prayer—even though he has already said ‘No.’”

There is a particularly desperate kind of anguish that parents feel for their children when they are suffering, but even if you are not a parent or have never been in that kind of situation with your kids, probably all of us have had times when our prayers have been met with silence, or with a big fat “No.” There are times when God seems to be ignoring us or treating us rudely.

Over the years I’ve ministered to many people who have much in common with the Canaanite woman. I’ve had people come to me with tears in their eyes because their child is unwell in one way or another. I’ve stood vigil at Children’s Hospital in Seattle more than once. I’ve had parents of adult children share their anguish with me because their son or daughter is sick or suffering, or plagued by demon of addiction, or a demon of depression, a demon of unbelief.

I talk to people who have other people they care about deeply who are suffering, who are facing serious health problems or battling demons of various sorts. I know there are people in this sanctuary right now who have been begging Jesus for healing of bodies and minds and relationships, begging Jesus that things could be different, and so far, all they’ve gotten from him is either silence, or a “No.”

This Canaanite woman is the patron saint of all who have ever experienced what seems to be God’s cold shoulder. She is the patron saint of all outsiders who find themselves in desperate need. She is the patron saint of all who have felt like they are in the doghouse with God. She is the patron saint of all sinners longing for even some crumbs from the masters’ table.

But this Canaanite woman doesn’t just echo the desperation of what seems to be our unanswered prayers. She also shows us what Christian faith looks like. She says to Jesus: “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” This is more than a witty comeback; it is a bold expression of faith. She is utterly convinced that Jesus can help her, and she demands it from him. “Even crumbs from you would be enough, Lord, so give them to me!” She holds him to his word even after that cruel silence, even after that big “no.” She catches him in his words, and Jesus was happy to be caught in them.

Such faith is great indeed. As Luther said, faith that holds Jesus to his Word in spite of everything is what Jesus most deeply desires from us. The Canaanite woman displayed remarkable trust in his mercy and grace in spite of what she had experienced thus far, and that trust ultimately proved to be well placed.

No matter what your background or history might be, you too can go to the Lord Jesus for help. If he can help a Canaanite woman, he can certainly help you. No matter what your deepest needs might be, your biggest fears, your most painful hurts, he can help. It might not always seem like it, but Christ Jesus is your messiah too. He is your savior, and he delights in hearing your prayers and responding to your needs.

He might not answer quickly. You might get silence at first. You might even get what seems like a firm “No.” Perhaps in these times he is teaching us to live by faith, to trust in his mercy and grace even when we can’t see it. But this Lord of ours loves to be held to his Word. He loves it when we hold him to his promises, and he will respond in due time. It might be sooner, it might be later, it might not be until the resurrection, but the day will come when our trust in him will be proven to be well placed, and all will be made well at last.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer

Oak Harbor Lutheran Church

Sermon for the Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost – August 9, 2026

CLICK HERE for a worship video for August 9

Sermon for the Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost – August 9, 2026

Matthew 14:22-33

Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord Jesus Christ.

As some of you know, I served as an intern pastor in several congregations in North Dakota. In those old prairie churches, it is common to have altar paintings – depictions of biblical scenes positioned right above the altar. The most common ones are of Jesus the Good Shepherd or the Resurrected Christ. Sometimes you see Jesus on the cross, with the two criminals on either side.

But one of the congregations I served in that parish has a painting of the scene we hear about today. It shows Peter sinking down into the waters of the Sea of Galilee, with Jesus standing on the water, holding tight to Peter’s hand, saving him.

When I first saw it, I thought it was so strange. Here I was in the geographical center of North America, as far away from any ocean or sea as you can possibly get on this continent, and the scene these Norwegian farmers chose for their church was of Peter in those churning waters, nearly drowning, hanging on to Jesus for dear life.

As I thought about it more, I wondered if it wasn’t chosen because many of those Norwegian immigrants had made a harrowing journey across the sea to get there. That might be part of it, but eventually I came to understand that this image isn’t primarily about the sea. Peter wasn’t just drowning in water. He was drowning in fear. He was drowning in doubt.

Just a moment before, Peter had been walking in faith. His faith had him walking on water. Jesus said, “Come,” and Peter trusted Jesus’ word, and so out he went, walking in faith, walking on the water. Then, the scriptures tell us, he noticed the strong wind and became frightened. It was when he became frightened that he began to sink. “Lord, save me!” Peter cried. And immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” Jesus said, “why did you doubt?”

Do you see it now? Peter wasn’t just drowning in water. He was drowning in fear and doubt. And so, this isn’t just a story about the sea. It is a story about what the sea represents, which, in the biblical worldview, is chaos. It is a story about any number of things that threaten to pull us under.

Those Norwegian farmers were far from any ocean, but they had plenty of things that threated to pull them under. People died all the time from disease and from farm accidents and from exposure to the elements, and so they were frequently drowning in grief and sorrow. Their survival as farmers depended on the weather, which was extreme and unpredictable. There were pests which could wipe out a year’s worth of hard labor in mere hours, and so they were frequently drowning in financial worries. There were all kinds of waves crashing over them – they just weren’t waves of water! They were waves of fear and doubt. And so, even though they were as far from the sea as you can get, those Norwegian farmers on the prairie saw themselves in Peter as Peter struggled to keep his head above water.

But that wasn’t all they saw. The altar painting also showed Jesus’ arm reaching down to Peter. And so they saw Jesus holding on to Peter tightly, saving him from drowning. They saw a savior who was more powerful than the wind and the waves. The image of Peter reflected back to them the reality of their lives, while the image of Jesus assured them that they had a savior who was holding on to them too.

Peter shows us the reality of our lives here today as well. As a pastor, hardly a day goes by when I don’t encounter someone struggling to walk in faith, sinking down into fear and doubt, struggling to keep their head above water. Here’s a confession for you: sometimes I am one of them! There are powerful winds and waves that cause us to be afraid. Health issues bring fears which drag us down. Grief can feel like waves of sorrow that keep crashing over us. Financial troubles can weigh heavily. The traumas we have experienced in life can resurface and feel overwhelming. We worry about loved ones. We worry about our world. Life is chaotic and threatening and scary. We feel helpless in the face of so many forces beyond our control. Before we know it, instead of walking in faith, we start to sink just like Peter did.

But just as this story shows us the reality of our lives, so too does it show us the truth of our savior. When Peter cried out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus IMMEDIATELY reached out his hand and took hold of him. Jesus didn’t make him prove himself first. He didn’t make Peter get up and take a few more steps on the water before helping him. Jesus IMMEDIATELY reached out and caught him. He wasn’t going to let him go under. He wasn’t going to let him drown.

In the same way, when we cry out to Jesus, he is already right there beside us, ready to help. When we cry out to him, he IMMEDIATELY takes hold of us, pulling us to himself with his firm grip. He doesn’t leave us to fend for ourselves. He doesn’t leave us to flail about in the water. He gets a hold of us and he doesn’t let go.

What happens in the boat after all of this is not just a nice conclusion to the story. The scriptures tell us that when Peter and Jesus got into the boat, Peter and the other disciples – disciples who had fears of their own – worshipped Jesus together, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.” This part is our story too.

The boat is the church, and we are those disciples. We are not disciples because we walk perfectly and fearlessly in faith all the time. We are not disciples because we have great wisdom or because of our great morals. We are not followers of Jesus because we have everything figured out.

We are Jesus’ disciples because we too have been overwhelmed by fear as chaos rages all around us, but he has reached out and taken hold of us.

We are Jesus’ disciples because we too have been battered by the wind and the waves, but we have come to trust that Jesus is truly the Son of God, and as such, he is more powerful than anything that threatens to sink us.

We are Jesus’ disciples because we know what it feels like to drown, but the Lord Jesus has heard our cry. And even though our faith is small and weak and fleeting and floundering, he is quick to lift us up by his grace and mercy and love.

Being a disciple of Jesus doesn’t mean walking on water ourselves, it means knowing that he can and entrusting ourselves to his strong saving hand.

No matter what wind or waves you are facing today, the Lord Jesus is already right there beside you. He hears your cry and is holding tightly to you, so do not be afraid. Even now he is lifting us up into the boat of his church, where together, safely in his presence, we worship him.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer

Oak Harbor Lutheran Church