Monday, August 25, 2014

Loving and Losing Life: A Meditation on Matthew 16



It is hard to lift one’s eyes, and see beyond this life.  As sinful and broken people, it is our twisted nature to fixate on the physical aspects of life, and forget or ignore the spiritual realities that surround us.  I have found, both in myself and my neighbors, a proclivity to dwell upon those things which immediately strike the senses with pleasure.  I enjoy the smell of the ocean breeze, the surge of adrenaline during sport, and the taste of good whiskey.  I like the feeling of driving fast, of productive work, and comfortable rest.  I treasure my time with family and friends, stout beer around a common table, and hearty laughter.  I am glad to be alive in this world, and I marvel in all the wonders God has brought forth in it.  It is a good world, and full of delights to the senses—blessings God has given to us, and to the whole of creation.

These good gifts are not evil things, nor is it evil to enjoy the gifts of God as God has given them.  But these good gifts of God to His creation, if misused or misunderstood, can become idols to sinful men.  People who have forgotten the Creator and have become absorbed in themselves, often fail to see the good gifts of God for what they objectively are, and instead see them as a means to gratify one’s self.  Instead of deeply inhaling the sea breeze and giving glory to God for the wonder of His good works, it is hard for me to see beyond the basic pleasure of the experience.  So with all the pleasures of life, and even with life itself.  As a sinful and selfish man, my embrace and use of God’s good gifts so often become an exercise in self gratification, which in the end is only an evidence of my own self idolatry.  I love my life, and all the good things God pours into it, because I love myself.  It is my fallen nature to turn all the good gifts of God into demi-gods that serve only myself… the god I prefer, according my old Adamic nature that fell to the same temptation so many years ago.  I become a living perversion of God’s good creation, corrupting all His good gifts to my own glory and comfort, and forgetting—or ignoring—the deeper realities that underlie everything.

This is something I think the old monks and hermits tried to get right.  Knowing their own weakness in the face of all God’s good gifts, they attempted to lift their eyes beyond the material things of life, so that they might focus better on the spiritual things.  The patterns of Christian fasting fall into this camp, as well, when we deny ourselves material things to which we have become too attached, so that our eyes might be lifted to truths far deeper and higher than just the material riches we enjoy.  And it is in this way, that Jesus’ caution is given to His disciples, that whoever will love their life will lose it, and whoever will lose their life for His sake, will find it.

As sinful creatures, our sinful fixation on the temporal things of life, declare our just condemnation.  We are not worthy of the good gifts God gives to us, because we use them to glorify and serve ourselves, rather than the Creator.  We are not worthy even of our lives, because we use our life to serve ourselves, rather than the One who gave us our life in the first place.  When sinners love their lives more than they love their Creator, they declare before God and the whole creation, that like the devil and his fallen angels, we deserve nothing but death and hell forever.  Our condemnation is written in our very being, as we befoul the life we are given, and by extension, everything we touch.

But it is for sinners like you and I, that our Savior has come.  Jesus beheld the glory of the original creation which was brought forth through Him, and He knows the divine love that brought us into existence.  He knows the true depths of horror to which we fell in our first parents, and the hopeless contortion of the human soul when the image of God was so grievously marred.  He knew the somber truth, that no man would ever be justified in the sight of God by his own works, and that no man, woman, or child would ever be able to escape their fallen nature, nor the hell of fire which they earned.  Jesus knew that the only hope for fallen man, was for Him to take on our flesh, live and die in our place, and suffer all the death and hell we had earned.  Our only hope for life, was for Jesus to die.

And so, to St. Peter and the whole Apostolic band, Jesus drives home His point with brutal precision.  If we will cling to our idolatrous love of our own lives, serving ourselves and corrupting the whole creation with our wickedness, the life we have will be lost to hell forever.  None who cling to themselves, have the power to save themselves.  But those who release their own love of self and trade it for the love of Christ, find a life that cannot be conquered by hell or the grave.  Because Jesus is the source of all life, and showed forth His victory over sin, death, and hell by His resurrection from the dead, all who share in His life will live forever.  Thus, anyone who surrenders their idolatrous attachment to life for the sake of Jesus, finds that they live forever through Him.

And so Jesus calls His disciples, and all of us, to take up our cross—the very implements of our own self denial and death—that we may follow Him to everlasting life.  Each day He calls us, not to spurn the created world and all its beauteous wonder, but to lift our eyes to the deeper realities which underlie the material universe, and even our own lives.  We are called to serve the only true God, who is the creator and redeemer of all things, and to remember that we are not saved from death by our frenetic clutching to our idols, but by grace through faith in Christ alone.  Alive in Christ, forgiven and free, we may once again breath in the salty air, let the flavors of good food and drink linger on our pallet, and rejoice in the good company of family and friends—because as we let go of these things as idols, surrendering even our idolatry of self, we find that instead of having lost everything, we have gained an eternal inheritance.  Dying to ourselves, we live in Christ and never die again.  Free from our slavish pursuit of simple pleasures, we find ourselves immersed in the boundless ocean of God’s never ending love and grace.  Giving up the paltry and passing novelties of sin, we find ourselves blessed with life and riches as immeasurable and eternal as Our Lord.

Here the people of God rest, and here the people of God work.  Here we repent of our selfish pride and idolatry, and cast our hope and faith upon Jesus our Savior.  Here we find deliverance from death even as we die, knowing that our eyes which have been fixed on Christ by faith, shall open one day to see Him and His salvation clearly, face to face.  Here is the hope and the endurance of the saints, who have seemingly lost their lives in this world, only to find an eternal life in Jesus Christ—and here we are added to their glorious number, by grace through faith in Him.  Amen.

Monday, August 18, 2014

On This Rock: A Meditation on Matthew 16




When Jesus asks His disciples, “Who do men say that I am?” lots of answers arise.  This is pretty predictable, since the mass of people who both followed Him and harangued Him were not clear on this subject.  Some said He was Elijah or one of the prophets, and some of the Pharisees at least once vent their suspicion that He is related to the devil.  Amidst all this popular confusion, Jesus asks His disciples very pointedly, “But who do you say that I am?”

St. Peter, as the functional leader and frequent spokesman for the disciples, summarizes their answer:  “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.”  In this answer is found the mystery of Jesus’ origin, His Incarnation, His mission, and His eternal deity.  As the Messiah, or the Christ, He is the One prophesied to rescue Israel and the whole world from sin, death, and hell—the Son of Man, by whose stripes all would be healed.  As the Son of God, He is fully divine, coeternal with the Father and the Spirit, with no beginning and no end—He is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.  Wrapped up in St. Peter’s answer is the eternal truth, that Jesus is the Word of God made flesh, the Lamb of God who comes to take away the sins of the world, the One Name given among men by which we must all be saved.  Jesus is our Savior.

Jesus reveals to St. Peter and all His disciples, that such an answer can only come from God Himself.  No one, using their own fallen human powers, will make such a confession.  Only those who have been enlivened by the Holy Spirit working through Jesus’ Word, will come to know Him as Savior and Lord.  Apart from Jesus’ Word and Spirit, we are lost to our own imaginations, philosophies and theories, like blind people groping around in a dark forest.  But by the Light of Jesus’ Word and Spirit, blind people like you and I are able to see the great truth that Jesus really is the Christ, the Son of the Living God—the One who has come to seek and to save the lost.  While Jesus is pleased with St. Peter’s answer, He must remind Peter to keep his ego in check—he didn’t come up with this answer on his own, and the saving faith which clings to this good confession, is a gift for which no one may boast.

To the confirmed and humbled Peter, Jesus makes a promise:  that He will establish His Church upon the solid rock of this great confession, and that the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.  This Church that Jesus promises to establish, will be given the Keys of the Kingdom of Heaven, to forgive and retain sins according to the faith and repentance of the penitent.  With such a weapon as the Keys, hell cannot keep its hold on anyone, for every sinner that was destined to the jaws of eternal condemnation, will be offered the free gift of grace and forgiveness in Jesus Christ.  The power of hell will be destroyed, because the power of sin will be broken, and the authority to forgive sins will be given to the disciples of Christ.  Upon so great a foundation as Christ crucified for the sins of the world, the Church shall be built, confessing Jesus as Lord and Savior, and wielding the greatest weapon ever given to mankind:  Forgiveness by the Word of Christ.

By the forgiveness of sins in Holy Baptism, the devil and his power is broken over every sinner.  Through the forgiveness of sins given in the Holy Eucharist, the new life in every sinner is refreshed and sustained.  Through the forgiveness of sins in Holy Absolution, every sinner who falls is raised back up again.  And so, before the Church of Christ which bears His Word, His Confession, and His Keys, there is no power of darkness that can stand.  By Jesus’ Word the demons flee.  By Jesus’ Word, the sinner is saved.  By Jesus’ Word, hell itself is assaulted and looted.  By Jesus’ Word, all who will believe and are baptized, shall be saved.

Jesus fulfills this promise to His disciples after His death and resurrection.  It is recorded in John 20, where the promise made in the singular to St. Peter on behalf of the disciples in Matthew 16, is made in the plural to all His disciples as He breathes upon them, giving them His Spirit, His Word, His Authority, and His Keys.  The victory of Christ, the Son of the Living God, is given to mankind for the salvation of the world, and in His great victory over sin, death, hell, and the devil, we stride confidently into the world by grace through faith in Him.  Forgiven and free, we take up the irresistible arms of that wonderful Gospel, carrying forgiveness to every soul in bondage, setting evil oppressors to flight, and crashing the very gates of hell. 

Let the Church of Christ rise up in this our day, and carry forth the victory of Jesus Christ to every soul under heaven—for we have the weapon that no foe can resist or overthrow, the very Word of Christ, the Son of the Living God.  Amen.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

The Children's Bread: A Meditation on Matthew 15



Of all the stories of Jesus’ interactions with people during His earthly ministry, this encounter with the mother of a possessed daughter has often been troubling for me.  As a child, I had the unfortunate lot of being harassed by demons in ways that absolutely terrified me—and as an adult, I have encountered them in painful and awful circumstances.  I know, both from Holy Scripture and personal experience, that demons are real, malevolent, and very powerful.  They are wicked and brutal creatures, with no light of compassion or humanity at all.  They are completely consumed with hatred and malice, and though their intellect is twisted by their evil, they have learned much in the millennia they have spent tormenting mankind.  No one should ever desire an encounter with a demon, and the utmost compassion ought to be given to anyone who is under their influence or oppression.  Demons are real, and the torment they produce is real.  Their goal is the destruction of the human race, and to drag anyone they can to the same hell prepared for them and their infernal leader, Satan.

Knowing this, for many years, I could only read Jesus’ response to this poor mother with a gasp.  How could Jesus, who knows the diabolical better than anyone, respond to the pain of this woman so cavalierly?  How could Jesus turn His back on this mother and her possessed daughter, knowing what evil torment was upon them, and the destruction that this demon intended for them?  How can Jesus, who we know as all mercy and compassion, be so seemingly callous?  The answer lies in the text, when read closely.

First, we must note, that the land of Tyre and Sidon was of a basically pagan population.  Even the quasi-Jewish people of the area were held in very low regard by the Jews of Israel.  To the Jews, the people of Tyre and Sidon were mongrels at best, and rank gentile pagans at worst—descendents of the Canaanites, who should have been wiped off the face of the earth during Joshua’s conquest 1500 years before Jesus.  They certainly were not seen as part of the covenantal people of God.  From a self-righteous perspective, the Jews could say that their slavery to evil through their worship of pagan gods was just and fair—but of course, after the Fall of our first parents, everyone on the face of the earth deserves and inherits that natural fate, Jew and Gentile alike.

Secondly, we must note, that Jesus very intentionally decides to go there.  This is significant, because it means that Jesus’ encounter with the poor mother of the possessed child, is no accident.  This Canaanite woman, outside the family of Israel, has a divine appointment with the Creator and Redeemer of the world.  Jesus is not going to Tyre and Sidon to repudiate the Gentiles.  He has a different, very important reason for going.

As this poor mother begs after Jesus for relief from her just fate, Jesus gives voice to the Jew’s prejudice.  She must make her way through the crowd, through the disciples, and eventually to Jesus Himself, begging for mercy and deliverance from the evil one.  When she finally makes it to Jesus, His response would shatter the faith of most people:  “It is not meet to take the children’s bread, and to cast it to dogs.”  He shows this poor mother that she and her daughter deserve nothing good from God.  She wants a miracle from Jesus, and Jesus has been sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel—the Messiah was a gift to the Jews, or so many may have thought.

Yet this poor woman does not debate the Law Jesus gives her.  She does not contest that she deserves deliverance, nor that she is as worthy to receive divine gifts as the Jews.  She doesn’t defend herself, her family, or her people.  She simply states the penitent truth, that even “the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters’ table.”  And Jesus, seeing the fullness of this woman’s faith and repentance, reveals why He has come to this pagan land, as He says to her, “O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt.”  Jesus has come, not just to deliver this poor mother and child from the grip of the evil one, but to teach both Jew and Gentile alike about the centrality of faith in receiving grace.

The Jews, like the Gentiles, deserved nothing good from God.  Their whole point, and the point of the Old Covenant—from Adam and Eve, through Noah, the Patriarchs, Moses, the Judges, the Kings, and the Prophets—was to bring forth the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.  The Jews are not chosen because they are beautiful, powerful, or spiritually great.  They are chosen, because the Father willed to bring through them His Son according to the flesh, and through them to give His Word to mankind.  The Jews are chosen to accomplish the salvation of the whole world, through Jesus Christ.  The special place of the Jews is not because of any merit on their part, because like every Gentile people, they are fallen and cannot justify themselves according to the holy and righteous Law of God.  They are chosen, elect, so that through them God might fulfill His promise to Eve, that through her He would provide His Seed who would crush their wicked oppressor the devil.  The rescue of mankind from the grip of every evil spirit, and from the devil himself, came through the Son of God—King David’s greater Son.

But such deliverance is given by His grace alone, because only Jesus can accomplish our salvation from sin, death, hell, and the power of the devil.  Only He could give His life as a ransom for many, that all who would believe in Him might not perish, but have His everlasting life.  Only Jesus, eternally begotten of the Father before all worlds, and conceived in time by the power of the Holy Spirit working in the Blessed Virgin Mary, fully God and fully man, could save us all from the just fate we inherited in our Fall.  And because only Jesus could accomplish the work of our salvation, it could always and only be a gift of grace given freely to mankind—a gift to be received by a living faith, which works in repentance and love according to His Word.

Such faith never presumes to argue with God over the curse of the Law, nor to debate our own depravity, unworthiness, and sinfulness.  It clings simply to the truth, that we live only by the grace that falls from our Master’s Table—His very Body and Blood, given and shed for us, for the forgiveness of our sins.  We do not cling to our culture, our nation, our family, or even our own pride; we do not demand from God anything that we deserve, because we deserve nothing but the tyranny of death and the devil in this world, and hell in the world to come.  But we cling to the Promise of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, that by grace we are saved through faith, and not by our own works, lest anyone should boast—not Jew nor Gentile, Lutheran nor Roman, Baptist nor Charismatic.  We have nothing to boast of, save Christ alone, who alone is our salvation, our life, and our hope.  Amen.

Friday, August 8, 2014

Why did you doubt? A Meditation on Matthew 14



Over the many years I’ve read and heard this story, it has struck me very differently.  At times, I fixated on the supposed superstitious disciples, on the strange and faltering confidence of St. Peter, of why the disciples were in the boat by themselves to begin with, and why Jesus seemed to tarry while His disciples were in distress.  This week, I see something else.

First, this event occurs immediately after Jesus feeds the 5000 men, plus women and children, through the hands of His disciples.  He has accomplished a great miracle, after having taught and healed the multitude all day long.  In mercy, it would seem, Jesus puts His disciples on a boat, and sends them on ahead of Him, so that He can disperse the crowd and catch up later.  Why the disciples got into that boat without Jesus is still a bit of a mystery to me—but that they were probably physically and emotionally exhausted, combined with Jesus’ command, likely had a lot to do with it.  The disciples end up in a boat headed across the sea, and Jesus stays behind to send everyone home.

After everyone is gone, Jesus finds Himself alone on the mountain, praying.  In His humanity, Jesus could very tangibly feel exhaustion, too.  Now deep in the night, He finds some rest, but He doesn’t remain there long.  Knowing what is happening with His disciples, He begins to walk toward them upon the very sea itself, needing no boat to reach them.  As Creator of the Universe, all the elements of creation are under His authority, and He uses His authority to reach out and care for His disciples.

Out on the sea, the disciples are in deep trouble.  Now in the dark of night, they are fighting both wind and water to reach the other side, but to no avail.  The storm that has them tossed about like a cork, and their exhaustion from the day’s service toward the multitude has probably pushed them to their human limits.  They are lost, in the dark, totally spent, and unable to save themselves.  They are hopeless.

Into their darkness, exhaustion, and despair, comes Jesus.  Whether it is exhaustion or fear that prompts their conclusion, they think the person they see walking on the stormy seas is a spirit—an evil spirit, sent to destroy them.  Ancient folklore is full of mythical creatures sent to destroy the lives of sailors at sea, and the disciples seem just as likely to fall victim to such fears as anyone else.  Besides, if you were that tired and scared, what would you think was walking toward you on the open water?

Jesus attempts to calm their fears immediately, by telling them it is He.  Of course, as broken people, the disciples are initially distrusting—and who wouldn’t be, knowing how deceptive evil spirits can be?  It is here, in this mess of exhaustion, fear, and despair, that St. Peter makes a heroic sacrifice:  he presents a solution to determine if this really is Jesus, or just an evil spirit.  He asks to be invited out on the water, too.

Let that sink in for a moment.  Tired, scared, and lost in the blackness of a roiling sea, St. Peter offers to stand between his friends and this spirit.  If it is not Jesus, St. Peter knows he will drown, but at least the other disciples may be spared from the murderous deception of an evil spirit.  Far from arrogance, Peter is offering to lay down his life for his friends.

Jesus, knowing what is in St. Peter’s heart, invites him out.  Jesus is not patronizing Peter, nor accommodating his pride or exuberance.  Jesus is letting Peter make his sacrifice of love to protect his friends—an act of love that Jesus will be making for all of them, and the whole world, soon enough.  As Peter takes Jesus’ invitation and steps out on the sea, he is probably prepared to drown.  But instead, he stands.

Peter now finds himself standing in the midst of a stormy sea, standing safe and secure by the Word of Christ.  He can see Jesus, and he now knows it is Him, by the power of His Word.  Peter begins to walk toward Jesus, trampling the deadly wind and waves by grace through faith in Christ alone.  Saved from a watery grave, Peter walks toward his Savior.

But somewhere in the midst of this walk by grace through faith, his eyes wander from Jesus.  He begins to focus on the wind and the waves, and his faith is shaken.  Immediately he begins to sink, because there is no way for human beings to receive grace but by faith.  Peter’s watery grave now pulling him down, his last gasping plea to Jesus is, “Lord, save me!”

In this moment of repentance and rekindled faith, the grace of Jesus reaches out and pulls Peter back from the clutches of death.  And to Peter, Jesus asks only, “Why did you doubt?”  Why, beloved Peter, having met and known Jesus, by the power of His Word of Grace trampled death and nature’s fury, are you so soon to forget?  Why do you disbelieve the power of Christ to save you from sin, death, and hell, let alone the creatures of wind and water?

And the same could be asked of us.  Having walked by faith through this world in the grace of our Savior, why do we doubt Him?  Why do we let our eyes wander from our victorious Savior, and fixate on the boisterous belligerence of sin, death, the devil and hell?  We, who have already walked on the sea through our Baptism, have received eternal life through the Body and Blood of Jesus, and have heard our Savior say through His servants’ lips, “I forgive you,” why do we doubt?  Having been made joint heirs with Jesus of the new heavens and the new earth by the work of His Holy Cross and Passion, why does our faith falter in the midst of storms?  It is because we are still weak and beggarly sinners, always in need of our Savior.

As St. Peter and Jesus walked back to the boat in which were the other disciples, Peter had opportunity to meditate on these things, too.  He, like us, was a sinner in need of grace.  He, like us, stepped out in faith, but faltered in the face of the stormy blast.  And he, like us, was saved by Jesus’ grace, when by faith and repentance in the midst of his sinking, cried out to Him, “Lord, save me!”  This is the confidence of the saints in every age, to step out on the storms of life, to trample the devil and hell underfoot, and to walk resolutely even through the valley of the shadow of death.  Here, Jesus is our life, our salvation, and our hope—not just as we begin our journey with Him, but in every step we take, from now through eternity.  It is faith working in love that steps out on the Word of Christ into a turbulent and violent world, and it is faith working in repentance that returns to the Word of Christ when we have become distracted and begin to drown in sin and fear.  And in all these things, it is Christ who reaches out to take hold of us when we cry, “Lord, save me!” even as He gently holds us to Himself and asks, “Dear child, why did you doubt Me?”

Amen.