by Jeffrey Spencer | Apr 23, 2025 | Sermons |
CLICK HERE for a worship video for April 20
Sermon for Easter Sunday – April 20, 2025
Luke 24:1-12
Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our risen Lord, Jesus Christ.
The women came to the tomb carrying spices. These were not tiny cannisters of cinnamon, like we find in our cupboards. These were more like sacks of flour, several pounds worth of granulated aloe and myrrh – enough to encase an entire human body from head to foot according to the burial customs of the Jewish people. Early in the morning on the first day of the week, the women carried these spices to Jesus’ tomb.
But this wasn’t the only thing these women carried. They also carried the weight of grief and sorrow. They had watched their Lord suffer and die on a cross. No doubt there were images from that horrible day that kept running through their minds. Maybe that’s why they were up so early. Maybe they couldn’t sleep.
They also carried the weight of fear, fear for what might happen next. If they did this to Jesus, what would they do to his followers? There was a reason the disciples were hiding out! What would happen to their friends? Their loved ones? Were they next?
They also carried the weight of hopelessness. Jesus had brought light and life and love into their lives, and now the cruelty of the world seemed to have snuffed it out. What hope was there in a world that crucified someone who brought healing and restoration and the forgiveness of sin?
The women were carrying all these things to the tomb because they assumed that Jesus was dead. They carried them because they had forgotten what Jesus had told them. And so when they came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been rolled away, they were confused. When they entered the tomb and saw that there was no body there, they were perplexed.
Then they saw two men in gleaming white robes who said, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen.” There is a sense here from these men that they should have known this! They are essentially saying, What are you doing here? Why did you think you’d find Jesus here, in the tomb? Don’t you remember what he told you? But that was the problem – they didn’t remember! And so the men had to remind them. “Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.”
Jesus had told them exactly what would happen. He told them he would suffer, and die, but then rise again on the third day. He told them multiple times. It was now the third day, but they completely forgot what he had said, and so these women were carrying things they didn’t need to be carrying.
I think this account of Christ’s resurrection in the Gospel of Luke bears an uncanny resemblance to how we live so much of our lives. We go through life carrying things we do not need to be carrying, and it is because we forget what Jesus has said. We forget what Christ has done. We forget the promises our Lord has made to us. We forget what happened on the third day. We forget that he has conquered sin and death and promises to share that victory with us.
We carry so much grief and sorrow. This is entirely understandable. I’ve had seasons when I’ve felt buried under it too. But because Jesus has been raised, we don’t need to be crushed by this weight. His resurrection lightens that load by showing us that the crosses of this life will not have the last word.
We carry so much fear – whether it is low grade anxiety or full-blown panic. We worry about the future. We worry about our loved ones. We worry about what will happen next. Much of this is understandable, but again, we let it weigh us down more than we need to. The resurrection lightens this load too. Fear is constantly saying, “What if? What if? What if?” while resurrection faith says, “Even if….” Even if my greatest fears are realized, Jesus has been raised, and so there is a future beyond that worst thing that can happen.
We often carry a burden of hopelessness. We often look at the world around us with its never-ending problems, with its steady stream of tragedies, with its conflicts and its callousness, and it is easy to lose hope. What hope do we have in a world where God continues to be driven out and put on a cross?
Well, our hope comes from the one who endured the cross and rose again! There are very real troubles, yes, and we shouldn’t ignore them or resign ourselves to them, but I love how St. Paul describes these troubles in Second Corinthians. He calls them “slight momentary afflictions.” In light of the resurrection and the eternal weight of glory being revealed to us, they are merely “slight momentary afflictions.” We can live in hope because Jesus has been raised as the first fruits of a kingdom yet to come, as the Apostle says in our epistle reading for today. Our hope is in him!
We carry so much that we do not need to carry because we forget what Jesus told us. We forget was he has done. We forget what he has promised. Well today, dear friends, is the day we go from carrying burdens to remembering promises.
We can set down those burial spices because Jesus has ultimately defeated death and promises to share that victory with us. “I am the resurrection and the life,” he has promised us. “Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live.”
“I will not leave you orphaned,” he has promised us. “My peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”
“In this world you will have troubles,” Jesus says, “But take heart; for I have overcome the world.”
“Come to me,” Jesus says, “all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”
All of these promises are true and trustworthy because of the resurrection. Jesus wasn’t just some ancient teacher spewing flowery platitudes. He wasn’t just a man who was wise and compassionate but is now long dead. Jesus is our living Lord, and because he has been raised, we can trust that he has the power to keep every promise he has made to us. Because he has been raised, his ministry of healing and restoration and the forgiveness of sin can and does continue.
Are there things you are carrying today that you don’t need to be carrying? Are there assumptions about this world and about your life that are weighing you down? Is there something you may have forgotten? Like the women at the tomb on the first Easter morning, there are things we all need to remember. There are things we all need to be reminded of. I know I do.
Not long before his death from cancer in 2023, pastor and author Timothy Keller and his wife Kathy did an interview for a show on YouTube. Timothy Keller served for many years as pastor at Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Manhattan. He was the founder of the Gospel Coalition. He wrote many well-loved books about Jesus and the gospel. In this interview he talked about how in the midst of all of his suffering from cancer, he and his wife kept reminding each other that Jesus had been raised. Even the great Timothy Keller needed to be reminded! At that point in the interview, he then looked directly into the camera and said, “If Jesus Christ was really, truly, raised from the dead – you know what? – everything is going to be alright. Whatever you’re worried about right now, whatever you’re afraid of, everything is actually going to be okay.”
Dear friends, on this Easter Sunday God invites you to set down those things you don’t need to be carrying. On this day of joy and hope and celebration, God reminds you of what Jesus has said, of the promises he has made to you. On this day of resurrection, God reminds you of what happened on the third day. Jesus rose again, just as he said he would.
So set down those burial spices and be reminded of this: Jesus was really, truly raised from the dead – and because of that, everything is going to be alright.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer
Oak Harbor Lutheran Church
by Jeffrey Spencer | Apr 16, 2025 | Sermons |
CLICK HERE for a worship video for April 13
Sermon for Palm Sunday – April 13, 2025
Luke 23:39-43
Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.
“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
It was early enough in his crucifixion that he was able to get the words out. He still had enough breath that he could speak. There had been the lightning-sharp pain screaming between his middle and ring fingers as the nails were driven through the median nerves in his wrists, contorting his hands. After his cross had been raised, there was the heavy weight of gravity relentlessly pulling on his body, straining his lungs. His heart pounded with effort, making his head throb. But he still had some breath in him, and he used that breath to address the man being crucified next to him: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
It was a prayer, really. Not that he was a religious man. He had abandoned God’s ways long ago. He knew he stood condemned. He readily admitted it. He knew he was getting what he deserved. He had violated the law – not only Roman law, but God’s law. He had broken God’s commandments. The bad choices he had made flashed before his eyes – the people he had hurt, the disappointment in his father’s eyes, the tears in his mother’s. His life had come to this, being nailed to a Roman cross and put on humiliating display as a deterrent to the public, as an example to others of the consequences of sin.
Somehow he knew that the man next to him was not on the cross because of his own sin. Somehow he knew that Jesus was not similarly guilty. When his partner in crime started taunting Jesus, he rebuked him, saying: “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” Maybe he was familiar with Jesus’ ministry in the region. Maybe he heard about him in prison in the hours before being brought out for crucifixion. Maybe he heard the women wailing his name at the foot of his cross. Maybe he heard Jesus forgiving the very men who nailed him to his cross. Whatever it was, he knew that Jesus was innocent. He did not belong on that cross. He was not guilty of anything. He was there for some other reason.
Some had been calling Jesus the King of the Jews. There was even a sign over his head with those very words. It had been put there as a cruel joke, but this criminal somehow came to believe that in some strange way it was actually true. And so, as his lungs bore the crushing weight of sin and death pulling on him, weighing him down, he managed to breathe out these words: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And when he did so, Jesus turned his face to him and said, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
What Jesus was promising this man was more than an umbrella drink under a palm tree, which is how many of us picture paradise. The word “paradise” is the same word used in the Greek translation of the Old Testament to refer to the Garden of Eden. In Greek version of the Old Testament, the world in which Adam and Eve lived before the fall is literally called “the Paradise of Eden.” What Jesus was promising this man was a return to Eden before it had been ruined by sin. He was promising him a return to the paradise of that garden where everything was declared by God to be very good. Jesus was promising him a return to that state of being wherein human beings lived in right relationship with God, and each other, and creation. Jesus was promising him that he would be in that garden where sin does not exist and so mourning and crying and pain would not exist either. Jesus promised that he would be there with him. “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
This brief, two-sentence interaction between this criminal and Jesus shows us what this whole bloody mess of Jesus’ Passion is all about. We have a prayer, and we have a promise, and taken together, they get at the very heart of the gospel.
In the criminal’s prayer we have a repentant sinner turning to Jesus in faith and trust and hope, and his prayer is immediately answered with a promise, the promise of a return to paradise – the paradise of the Garden, the paradise of a life free from the weight of sin and death, the paradise of a life restored to right relationship with God.
In crucifying this criminal, the Romans gave us an example alright – but it was not the example they were expecting. By turning to Jesus with his prayer, this criminal gives us an example of faith. By placing his trust in the man being crucified next to him, this criminal went from being humiliated to being heaven-bound. He went from the consequences of sin to the forgiveness of sin. He went from pain to the promise of paradise. He is remembered two thousand years later not only for his crime, but for his prayer and for the promise he received.
We come to worship week after week bearing crosses of our own. We come with prayers of our own. The gravity of sin and death weigh heavily upon us. The consequences of sin – whether our own or that of others or the fallenness of creation itself – has us all gasping for air at times, trying to catch our breath. There are times when the pain of life in a fallen world seems like too much to bear. With all of the mourning and crying and pain in and around us, we are reminded on a daily basis that we do not live in Eden.
But as we lift our eyes to Jesus on his cross, we find a savior who is still answering the prayers of those who turn to him in repentance and faith. As we turn to our crucified savior in faith and trust, we too receive a promise from him. “Your sins are forgiven,” he says to us. “This is my body, my blood, shed for you,” he tells us. Even now we are with him. Even now we begin to live into the reconciliation he has won for us. Even now he is beside us, speaking his word to us.
“Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise,” he says. The promise our Lord Jesus made to the dying criminal is the same promise he made to us in our baptism, when we were marked with his cross and joined to his saving work.
And so today we are no longer under a sentence of condemnation. Instead, we live in the promise of paradise.
Today we can live in hope and in peace, trusting that sin and death will not have the last word over us. Jesus will have the last word, and he promises us that we will be with him, in Eden, forever.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer
Oak Harbor Lutheran Church
by Jeffrey Spencer | Apr 10, 2025 | Sermons |
CLICK HERE for a worship video for April 3
Sermon for the Fifth Sunday of Lent – April 6, 2025
John 12:1-8
Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.
It has to have been the strangest dinner party ever. First of all, it was being held at the home of a guy who was, just a few days before, very much dead. Lazarus, whom Jesus had called out of the tomb, had now changed out of his grave clothes. All his mummy wrappings had been rolled up and put away, and he was now, along with his sisters Mary and Martha, hosting a dinner party for Jesus and his disciples.
And as if a formerly dead guy hosting a dinner party weren’t strange enough, at some point during the meal, his sister Mary got up and retrieved a very expensive bottle of perfume from her room. This bottle cost her a good 300 denarii, which was a full year’s worth of wages for a common laborer. It was probably the most expensive single item Lazarus, Mary, and Martha owned between the three of them! Martha and Lazarus probably wondered what their sister was up to. But without offering a single word of explanation, Mary took that bottle, knelt down before Jesus, and poured it onto his feet.
But it gets even more strange: Mary then let down her hair. In the ancient world, virtually all women grew their hair long. This long hair was seen as a powerful symbol of a woman’s femininity, and so whenever women were out in public, they kept it pinned up and covered. It is still like this in some cultures of the world today. My sister, who has long hair, recently traveled to the country of Oman for her work. Oman is in the Middle East, just south of Afghanistan and just east of Iran. Though Oman is allied with the West, it has a very traditional culture, and so whenever my sister left her hotel room, she had to wear a head covering. In these traditional cultures, respectable women only let their hair down in the privacy of their bedrooms. Only their husbands are allowed to see their hair tumble down over their shoulders. It is considered a deeply intimate act. And so as Mary let down her hair, you can imagine the disciples shifting nervously in their seats, averting their eyes, forcing themselves to think about baseball.
And just when you think things couldn’t possibly get even more strange, Mary then used her long hair to wipe Jesus’ feet! In the ancient world, washing the sweaty feet of guests who had walked many miles in sandals was the job of the lowest of servants. And here Mary, the host, was doing it herself, in the middle of dinner, with her hair!
Lazarus and Martha, along with Peter, James, and John, Philip, Thomas and Matthew and the rest of the disciples all sat there in stunned silence, until Judas decided it was time for him to weigh in on the situation. “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” Judas objected. You see, Passover was near, and it was customary to make an offering for the poor at Passover.
But that’s not what Judas’ concern really was. Judas was virtue signaling. That’s what we call it today. He was aligning himself with a cause to make himself look good and to make Mary look bad. He was saying what sounded virtuous while doing exactly nothing to actually alleviate the problem he claimed to be so concerned about. His words were a badge he wore to signal his supposed superiority over Mary. But he was in no way superior to her. In fact, St. John first reminds us that Judas would soon betray Jesus, and then mentions that Judas was a thief who liked to dip his fingers into the common purse to skim off a little for himself.
To Judas, what Mary was doing seemed absurd. To be fair, it likely seemed absurd to the rest of the disciples too. It had to have seemed absurd to Martha and Lazarus, who just watched their sister dump out the most expensive thing she owned on Jesus’ feet and then rub it in with her hair.
But none of it was absurd to Jesus. Jesus told Judas to back off. He told him to leave her alone. Jesus understood that Mary was expressing her love for her him. Jesus explained that she was preparing him for his burial, which was now only days away. “You always have the poor with you,” Jesus said, “but you do not always have me.” Jesus received this extravagant display of love with joy.
As strange as it is, Mary’s behavior has a lot to teach us. In contrast to Judas’ false piety, Mary shows us what a life of true faith looks like – and it is something that always looks a little absurd from the outside.
Mary took what was most valuable to her and gave it to Jesus. She poured out her greatest treasure at his feet. We too are called to use all that we have been given, all that we treasure, all that is valuable to us, in ways that honor our Lord. This includes our giving to the church, which often seems like a huge waste to people outside of it. There have been times when our congregation has been blessed to have received large financial gifts from people who included Oak Harbor Lutheran Church in their wills, and you should hear the howls of their non-Christian relatives when they get wind of it. To them, it is absurd. It is a waste.
But it isn’t just our financial gifts. All that we have is to be used in ways that honor and glorify Christ. This seems absurd to those who only see their resources as a way to pleasure or glorify themselves, but this is what flows out of a heart of faith. Mary could be so generous with her treasures because she had come to treasure her Lord Jesus above everything else.
Mary was worshipping Jesus, kneeling at his feet in adoration and praise. We too are called to worship him as our Lord, as we are doing here today. This, too, is something that many people find absurd. Singing songs to Jesus on a weekend morning when you could be sleeping in? Are you crazy? Theologian Marva Dawn wrote a wonderful book about worship called “A Royal Waste of Time.” It was a tongue-in-cheek title, pointing to how worship is perceived by many people. It, too, seems like a waste.
Mary let down her hair in front of Jesus. While the suggestive nature of this gesture is hard to overlook, it does not symbolize romantic involvement. Jesus would not have seen her in that way. But it does symbolize something pretty close to that. It does symbolize intimacy. It does symbolize vulnerability. It does symbolize Mary letting Jesus see her as very few others in her life ever would. Mary could do this, she could let down her hair before Jesus, only because she felt utterly safe with him. This is faith! This is trust!
We too, male or female, are, spiritually speaking, able to let our hair down before Jesus. We too enjoy this close, intimate relationship with him where we don’t need to hide or cover up anything about ourselves. He already knows anyway! We can be our true, vulnerable selves with him. Even the most intimate parts of our lives, the parts we cover up from most other people, are safe with him. This seems absurd. We often believe we need to put our best, most respectable foot forward – especially before God! But to have faith in Christ is to lay our entire lives at his feet, trusting in his mercy, trusting in his great love for us.
Mary stooped down to serve Jesus, washing his feet with her hair. Jesus would do something very similar for his disciples just a few days later. After he was done washing their feet, he told them that if they wanted to be his disciples, that’s how they should love each other – by taking the form of servants, by living in humble service to one another. Mary powerfully foreshadowed Jesus call to humble service.
We too are called to lives of humble service. As Jesus’ disciples today, we are called to wash his feet by serving one another in humility and love. This is carried out in our vocations, our callings in life – in our families, in the church, in our work, in our community. This seems absurd in a world where everyone is looking out for number one, but as Christians our calling is to be looking out for one another.
As strange as her behavior is, Mary of Bethany teaches us some important things about discipleship. While Judas was crowing with false piety, Mary was modeling true faith as she poured herself out before Jesus in love.
The morning after that strange dinner party with Mary and Martha and Lazarus, Jesus went to Jerusalem. He could probably still smell the perfume on his feet as he made the last leg of his journey. There he was greeted with palm branches and people shouting “Hosanna!” There Jesus showed his love for each of us as he gave himself up for us on the cross. We’ll pick up this part of the story next Sunday as we begin Holy Week.
But we remember even now that on the cross, Jesus poured out more than perfume. He poured out his blood for us. He poured out his life for us. It was a shocking display of love that seemed strange to many. It still seems absurd to a lot of people.
But in his great love for us, Jesus poured himself out for the sake of what he treasures most. He poured himself out for you.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer
Oak Harbor Lutheran Church
by Jeffrey Spencer | Mar 31, 2025 | Sermons
CLICK HERE for a worship video for March 30
Sermon for the Fourth Sunday in Lent – March 30, 2025
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.
Today we hear what is likely Jesus’ most famous and most beloved of all his parables. But our gospel reading for today begins with an important bit of context. St. Luke prefaces the parable with an important bit of information. He writes: “Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, ‘This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.’ So he told them this parable.”
Jesus actually goes on to tell three parables, all with the same theme. Jesus tells the parable of the lost coin. Then he tells the parable of the lost sheep. And then, finally, he tells the parable we hear today. We only hear the third parable, which is why we jump from verse three to verse eleven. And the context in which Jesus is speaking is especially important for understanding this third parable.
Jesus tells these parables with two groups there listening to him. These two groups could not be more different from each other. On the one side you have a group of tax collectors and other assorted sinners. This group was comprised of people who were widely despised for their sin. Their sins were public, obvious, easy to see.
The tax collectors were despised because, well, because they were tax collectors. I mean, that’s pretty obvious, right? It is tax season, after all. As necessary as it surely is for a functioning government, I don’t know anyone who would list the IRS as their favorite government agency. In ancient Israel this was made far worse by the fact that tax collectors worked on commission, that is, they kept for themselves whatever they were able to gouge out of people beyond what was required, and they were working for their Roman oppressors while doing so. So they were widely reviled not only as aggressive bill collectors, but as betrayers of their people and betrayers of their God.
Along with the tax collectors were other assorted sinners. These were those who had wandered away from God and squandered their holy heritage with dissolute living – chasing their every appetite, abusing God’s gifts for their own selfish pleasures, living by their own rules, ignoring God’s commandments, spending their weekends committing idolatry and adultery, wallowing in their own bad decisions.
This first group, the tax collectors and other assorted sinners, had been coming to listen to Jesus – and Jesus welcomed them! Jesus had even been breaking bread with them. Jesus had been enjoying little dinner parties with them.
The second group was comprised of the Pharisees and the scribes. This second group was the mirror opposite of the first group. While the first group was publicly reviled, the second group enjoyed great public respect. These were the good people, the respectable people. They were careful followers of God’s law. They were obedient to God’s commandments. They were Israel’s most loyal sons. And so of course they raised their eyebrows when they saw Jesus eating with these rank sinners. Of course they objected to someone who came preaching and teaching in the name of God sitting down and breaking bread with them. Of course they looked down their noses and grumbled at the whole thing.
Jesus tells this parable in response to this dynamic. Jesus is masterfully addressing both of these groups with it. Jesus is explaining what these little dinner parties with sinners are all about, while also inviting the Pharisees and the scribes to quit grumbling and take their place at the table.
Jesus begins by saying there was a man who had two sons. Note that right from the beginning this is a parable about two sons! The first son asks for his inheritance ahead of time. This was a great insult to the father in that culture, but the father gives it to him and the son promptly leaves home and goes to a far-off country called Las Vegas. He goes to a far-off country known as Amsterdam’s red-light district. In this far-off country he blows through all the inheritance money, spending it on vice, and debauchery, and immorality of every kind – which is precisely what “dissolute living” means. He hits rock bottom. He ends up flat broke. In his desperation he takes a low-paying job at a Gentile pig farm, where he ends up so hungry that the pig’s food starts to look good to him. He finally comes to his senses and returns home, hoping at least to get hired on as one of his father’s hired hands. But when he is still at the end of his father’s long driveway, he sees his father running towards him. Before he can even apologize, his father throws his arms around him. His father kisses him. His father calls for his son to be clothed in a new robe and to have the family ring put on his finger. Then he tells his servants to prepare the fatted calf. It was time to barbecue! It was time to celebrate! For this son of his who was dead was alive again, he was lost but had been found.
This first part of the parable describes what was going on with the first group, with the tax collectors and other assorted sinners. By listening to Jesus, those sinners were coming to their senses! In him, they had found their way back home to God. Jesus wasn’t endorsing their sin by eating with them. The son in the parable doesn’t bring whiskey and dancing girls back home to dad. These sinners had repented. They had come home, and God was receiving them with open arms! God clothed them in a new robe, giving them a new life. God restored them to the family. God and all his angels celebrated, for these sinner-sons who were dead were alive again. These sinner-sons who were lost had been found. The meal Jesus shared with them both symbolized and celebrated their homecoming.
The story line of the first son takes up most of the parable, but it is not the end of the story! This parable is often called the parable of the prodigal son, but there are TWO sons in the parable, and to ignore the second son is like telling an entire joke only to botch the punchline! This should be called the parable of the lost sons, because there are two sons in the parable, and both of them are lost. One is lost to self-indulgence, and the other is lost to self-righteousness.
When the younger, self-indulgent son comes home, the older son is indignant. He is sanctimonious. He is resentful. When he sees that his father has thrown a party for his brother, he becomes angry and refuses to go in. He feels he deserves more from his father for being the good, loyal son. Here they are butchering a fatted calf, and he never even got a goat to roast for a party!
But the father speaks tenderly to his older son. He acknowledges his faithfulness, his loyalty. He tells his older son that everything he has already belongs to him. All the fatted calfs. All the goats. It is all his and always has been. The father invites his older son to set aside his self-righteousness and to just come in and enjoy the party. You see, he is lost too! He needs to come home too!
This part of the parable is aimed at those Pharisees and scribes. They might enjoy much public respect, but they are sinners too. They might not be self-indulgent, but they are self-righteous. And so they are more like the first group than they want to admit! In fact, Jesus suggests with this parable that they are brothers! Their sins are two sides of the same genetic coin!
As the father of three boys, it is amazing to my wife and I how different our three sons can be. They sprang from the same two parents. They were raised in the same home, in mostly the same way. They share the same blood, the same DNA. But they each have such radically different personalities. For instance, one is an extrovert who will talk to you until you want to sew his mouth shut, while another is so introverted that two complete sentences from him in a conversation is a precious, cherished moment. They are so different, and yet, at the same time, in other ways, they are obviously brothers. They have a lot in common too!
The tax collectors and sinners and the Pharisees and the scribes are all brothers. They are all sons of the same Father. They are radically different in the ways sin presents itself in each of them, but they are all the products of the same turned-in-on-self DNA.
The same is true for us. There are obvious, public, glaring sins that we easily recognize in people – the sins of self-indulgence. These sins are harmful. They need to be repented of. There are behaviors that need to be left behind when coming home.
But there is another way in which sin is manifest, and it is especially rampant among those who consider themselves to be the good people, the respectable people, the correct people. This is the sin of self-righteousness. This sin is expressed in sanctimoniousness – which isn’t just a religious phenomenon. People get sanctimonious about all kinds of things. People look down their noses at others for what they eat or what they wear or what they drive or how they vote. They get sanctimonious about how their ideas and concerns and choices are SO much better than everyone else’s. This is a form of lostness too. It is a form of lostness because it fails to see that everything we have and everything we are is given to us through the graciousness of the Father. It is a form of lostness because it fails to see how we all fall short of the glory of God and are all equally and utterly dependent on God’s grace.
The son you might identify with can vary from day to day. We’ve all been both of them at different times. But no matter which son you might identify with today, the invitation offered in this parable is the same. The invitation for all of us always is simply to come home. We are invited to leave our self-indulgence AND our self-righteousness behind and come into the forgiving embrace of our loving Father. This Father clothes us in a new life. By his grace he restores us to the status of family. In his joy, he throws a celebration to which both kinds of sons and daughters are invited. We are all brothers and sisters, after all. And our gracious Heavenly Father wants nothing more than for all of us to enjoy the feast together.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer
Oak Harbor Lutheran Church
by Jeffrey Spencer | Mar 26, 2025 | Sermons
CLICK HERE for a worship video for March 23
Sermon for the Third Sunday in Lent – March 23, 2025
Luke 13:1-9
Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.
Wouldn’t it be great to know what Jesus thinks about current events, about all the things happening in our world today? Wouldn’t you love to get Jesus’ hot take on the latest news? Wouldn’t it be interesting to have our Lord give color commentary on the most recent terrible thing that happened? Maybe he could get his own show on one of the cable news channels, or his own Twitter account where he could post his thoughts.
There are many who claim to know what Jesus thinks about this or that. Oh, they are quite sure the Lord is on their side. There are some who turn to preachers to give them these hot takes, and there are no shortage of preachers who are happy to do so. The trouble is, these people who claim to know exactly what Jesus thinks about the latest current event often contradict each other. These takes are often just thinly veiled political ideologies from one side of the aisle or the other, so how do we know which side is correct?
Well, today we actually get to hear Jesus respond to the news. They aren’t current events, of course, but today we hear how Jesus responded to the breaking news stories of his time.
Some people came to Jesus with a situation which was deeply troubling. This was breaking news. The Roman governor Pontius Pilate had massacred some Galileans and then went on to mock their religious practices by mingling the blood he had spilled with the blood of the sacrifices they had offered to God in worship. It was a horrible act of violence and desecration. It was the kind of story that got people’s attention. This news traveled fast. It was a story that shook people up.
And as people often do, they gave their hot takes. People were trying to make sense of the evil Pilate had done. Jesus, perhaps hearing the chatter in the crowds about this horrible story, understood that some people believed these Galileans had actually brought this on themselves. They must have done something. Maybe they provoked Pilate. Maybe they even provoked God somehow!
Jesus soundly and swiftly rejects this kind of thinking. “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?” Jesus pointedly asked. “No, I tell you!”
And then Jesus turned their eyes from the headline to their own hearts. “But unless you repent,” Jesus said, “you will all perish as they did.”
Jesus then brought up a different news story. “You know those eighteen people who died when the tower of Siloam fell on them? Do you think they were worse offenders than everyone else in Jerusalem? No, I tell you.”
And then Jesus did it again. He turned their attention from the headlines to their hearts. “But unless you repent,” he said, “you will all perish as they did.”
What is going on here? What does Jesus mean by this, and what does it mean for us?
Whether the latest tragedy in the headlines is due to wickedness or a freak accident, Jesus encourages us to respond in the same way. He calls us to repent. He calls us to turn our attention from the headlines to our hearts.
There is certainly a place for analyzing why bad things happen in order to stop them or prevent them from continuing. Sometimes it is indeed bad people or bad choices that bring on bad consequences – St. Paul has something to say about that in our second reading for today. It is also worth noting that Jesus makes it clear that victims of violence or accidents – then or now – are not being punished by God. And none of this suggests we should all just put our heads in the sand and ignore the world around us.
But Jesus points to these unsettling new stories as opportunities for us to not only look outward, but to look inward. They should prompt us not just to look at who we can blame, he says, but to take a close look at our own lives. They should prompt us to repent.
To repent is to turn back to God. Whenever we see a news story that reminds us of the wickedness and evil of this world, it should drive us to God. Whenever we see a news story that reminds us of our mortality, our human frailty, it should move our hearts to repentance, to taking stock of our lives and recommitting ourselves to living lives of faith in God and love for one another.
This leads us to the second part of our reading for today, the little parable Jesus tells. Jesus tells the story of a man who had a fig tree in his vineyard. He came looking for fruit and found none. He was ready to cut it down, but the gardener pleaded for a little more time. “Let me put some manure on it. If it bears fruit, well and good. If not, you can cut it down.”
At first glance it is an odd juxtaposition – having these brutal news stories alongside this quaint parable about gardening. But what Jesus is saying here is that we have something that the victims in the latest news do not. We have time. We have life yet in us. We’re still here. And Jesus is the gardener who has come along to coax some fruit out of us while we are here. What’s more, Jesus is going to use manure to grow that fruit.
St. Augustine taught that the manure in this parable represents the sinner’s sorrows. He wrote that “the basket of dung is filthy, but it produces fruit.” I think this interpretive move by Augustine is the key to connecting the parable to those horrific news stories. Our Lord Jesus, the gracious gardener, is using the sorrows of life to draw us to himself. He is using the manure we see or smell or step in to help us become more deeply rooted in him. Christ Jesus, the savior of the vineyard, is using the filthy parts of life in this broken world to grow fruit in us, the fruits of repentance.
This is how God often works in the Bible. When Joseph’s brothers sold him off, God used that stinky move to save all of them from famine. “What you intended for evil,” Joseph would eventually tell his brothers, “God used for good.” When the Assyrians and then the Babylonians invaded and conquered Israel, God used those bloody situations to call his people back to the covenant. When the early church was violently persecuted, God used the dispersion it caused to spread the gospel out from Jerusalem to Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth. In each of these cases God used the wicked and evil dung scattered around by human beings to a greater purpose: to draw people to himself, to root people in him, and to grow the fruit he desires, the fruits of faith.
The best example of this, of course, is found in the cross. What Pilate did to those worshippers, spilling their blood and mingling it with their sacrifices, desecrating God’s beloved children, was a foreshadowing of the desecration Pilate presided over in the crucifixion of our Lord Jesus Christ. And as wicked and evil as this certainly was, God brought life out of it! God used it as the very means of our salvation!
We don’t come to worship to look at headlines, we come to look at our hearts. We don’t come to worship to look at who we can blame, we come to look in the mirror. We don’t come to merely to rally, but to repent. We don’t come to worship to get a hot take on the news, we come to hear the Good News.
And the Good News is that even amidst the horrific events that make us afraid or angry or quick to blame, the patient gardener of our souls is still at work in us turning fertilizer into faith, turning manure into good fruit, turning all the world’s excrement into the first blossoms of hope.
The Good News is that on the fig tree of his cross, our Lord Jesus stretched his arms out over every bloody headline the world has or ever will see, taking it upon himself. The cross is God’s commentary on every human tragedy, telling us that there is no story or situation which is beyond his redeeming love.
The Good News is that after enduring the cross, where his own sacrificial blood was spilled, after experiencing his own brutal death, Jesus rose again. Pilate did not have the last word. Evil did not have the last word. Sin and death did not have the last word.
The Good News is that none of the violence or tragedies we see in the news today will have the last word either – for the most important headline of all is that Christ is risen, and that’s the headline we need to focus on the most.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer
Oak Harbor Lutheran Church
by Jeffrey Spencer | Mar 18, 2025 | Sermons
CLICK HERE for a worship video for March 16
Sermon for the Second Sunday in Lent – March 16, 2025
Luke 13:31-35
Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.
It is very difficult to help someone who does not want to receive help. Many of you know how frustrating this can be, painful even. I’ve sat with family members of alcoholics who have offered their loved ones every opportunity to get help, but they are not willing. I’ve talked with parents who desperately want to help their wayward children, but they are not willing. I’ve had conversations with elderly people who still live alone and need more help than they are willing to admit, help that is available, but they are not willing. I know one of the greatest disappointments of our Stephen Ministry leaders is that we have all these Stephen Ministers trained and available to walk with people through any kind of difficulty, but when people who are experiencing those difficulties have been identified and invited to receive their care, they are not willing. Our male Stephen Ministers in particular often sit without care receivers for long periods of time, because even though there are men in need of their care, they are not willing.
My wife and I have some dear friends. We’ve known this couple for almost 30 years. They are from Washington state, but we met in Minnesota, where we started seminary together. Although ministry has taken us to different parts of the country at times, we’ve stayed in touch. We’ve stayed close.
Ministry can be hard on marriages. There are particular challenges and strains that are unique to this calling. They tell us this at the beginning of our seminary education. In fact, Luther Seminary offered marriage care groups to start to get us in the habit of being intentional about caring for our marriages. We invited these friends to come with us, but they were not willing. Years later Amy and I went to a Lutheran Marriage Encounter weekend. We raved about it, and encouraged these friends to go, but they were not willing. Over the years there were times when we saw fissures start to show up in their marriage, little cracks that emerged. When Amy and I went through training and wrote our talks and started leading Marriage Encounter weekends ourselves, we encouraged them to come. They are free for pastors and their spouses! “You’ll at least know us,” I told them. But they were not willing.
Just a couple of weeks ago these dear friends signed divorce papers, ending almost forty years of marriage. I could kind of see it coming, but it still hit me hard. When I told Amy, I couldn’t get the words out without getting choked up. I was not only sad but frustrated. There was an anger even, an anger rooted in love for them. We could have helped you! But you were not willing!
I know this feeling. So do many of you. And Jesus knows it too. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”
There is a long history behind these words. Jesus was talking to God’s chosen people. God had delivered them out of slavery in Egypt. God fed them in the wilderness. God brought them into the Promised Land. And again and again, they rejected God. They thought they were doing just fine, that they could get by on their own. God sent prophets to them over and over again, offering his help, calling them back, offering to restore them to life and holiness and right relationship. But they were not willing. Again and again God’s prophets, God’s lifelines of help, were rejected, killed even, because the people were not willing to receive this help.
Along came Jesus, the long-promised Messiah, and now they were doing it again. Jesus expressed his frustration with them, his anger even – an anger rooted in love. His only desire was to gather them together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings. He only wanted to help them – but they were not willing.
A few chapters later in the Gospel of Luke, Jesus weeps for Jerusalem. There is a chapel which was built on the spot where Jesus wept. It is called Dominus Flevit, which is Latin for “The Lord wept.” It was built in the shape of a teardrop, and the big windows behind the altar look out over Jerusalem. There is a mosaic in this chapel too. The mosaic at the base of the altar depicts a mother hen with her wings spread out in defense of her chicks.
This is how a mother hen saves her chicks. She saves them by putting herself between them and the threat, by shielding them from danger with her own body. She will do this even if it means she herself will die. It isn’t uncommon to find a chicken coop which has been attacked by racoons or coyotes or foxes and to find the mother hens torn to shreds while the baby chicks are safe inside.
This is how Jesus ultimately saves us too. In our gospel reading for today we hear Jesus refer to what is about to unfold in Jerusalem. When the Pharisees told Jesus to get out of there, warning him that Herod was out to get him, Jesus said, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work.’” Jesus then refers to his triumphal entry, saying they won’t see him again until everyone is shouting, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” These are the shouts of acclamation which will so quickly turn into calls to crucify him.
What lies just ahead is a showdown between the fox and the hen. Jesus will soon hand himself over to the powers of sin and death. Jesus will place himself between the enemy and his beloved chicks. Everyone knows how this story plays out. The hen always gets destroyed by the fox. She bears the fangs and the claws in her body to spare theirs. She dies for her chicks. But in the showdown between this fox and this hen, there is a surprise ending. On the third day, Jesus finishes his work by rising from the dead.
Do you need help? Are there parts of your life you are still refusing to let God help you with? Are there troubles you think you can handle on your own? Are there sins you are unwilling to confess? Are there behaviors you are unwilling to let him help you change? Are there wounds you are unwilling to let him heal, a grudge you continue to nurse, a mistake you won’t let him forgive, a fear you are unable to hand over to him?
Our Lord Jesus wants nothing more than to help you. Our Lord Jesus wants nothing more than to gather you under the shelter of his wings. Are there ways in which you are not willing?
Lent is a season of self-examination and repentance. It is a season in which we are invited to take a long hard look at our lives and to “change our minds” and “change our direction,” which is what the word repentance means. And so I invite you today to think about the ways in which you might be spurning the help God wants to give you.
In Jerusalem, Jesus threw himself into the jaws of the fox. He allowed himself to be chewed up in a brutal crucifixion. He died on the cross, giving up his life in order to save us, his brood.
On the third day he finished his work. He rose again, leaving an empty grave behind. And now his resurrected wings are spread over us, where they eternally protect us from sin and death and every evil.
So take your place under his wings. His help is continually offered to you. This help comes first and foremost through Word and Sacrament, where he graciously and continuously forgives sins and gives us new life. This help comes through the presence of his Holy Spirit, which leads us into lives that are holy and pleasing to God and offers mercy and whenever we stumble, helping us back up.
This help also comes through the wider ministry of the church, which offers guidance through Bible study, care through Stephen Ministers, pastoral counseling through pastors, grief care through compassionate experts like Pastor Laurie, and all kinds of other resources for help in times of need.
The strong wings of the risen Christ are spread wide, that you might find shelter under them. It is under those wings that he will protect you. It is under those wings that he offers forgiveness, life, and salvation. It is under those wings that he offers his help to every part of your life that needs it.
He spreads those healing, helpful, holy wings out for you today. Are you willing?
He is still gathering, still calling, still inviting, still forgiving, still defending his brood. He stands between you and every enemy with his wings stretched wide, saying, “If you want to get to them, you have to go through me.”
It is safe behind those wings. So let him gather you. Let him draw you to himself. Let him help.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer
Oak Harbor Lutheran Church
