Going Fishing - Sermon on Matthew 4:12-23

Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 26, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

Listen to the Sermon here: 

Matthew 4:12-23

12 Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. ¹³ He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, ¹⁴ so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled: ¹⁵ "Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali, on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles— ¹⁶ the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned." ¹⁷ From that time Jesus began to proclaim, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." ¹⁸ As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. ¹⁹ And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." ²⁰ Immediately they left their nets and followed him. ²¹ As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. ²² Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him. ²³ Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

SERMON

Let me preface today’s sermon by saying I am not a fisherman.  In fact, I have only been fishing a handful of times and I’ve learned that I am most successful if the rod is plastic, the line has a magnet on the end, and I’m trying to catch plastic magnetic fish in a kiddie pool.  I classify fishing as NMG - not my gift.

That being said, I can recall a few impactful experiences that taught me about the art of fishing.  As a boy scout, we once camped out around someone’s pond. One of the reasons for our weekend camping trip was for some folks to work on their fishing merit badge.  So, that evening, our scout master asked who wanted to go fishing in the morning. He offered to wake us up in the morning, and since I had never really gone fishing before, I thought, sure, why not.  When 4 am came, I immediately regretted my decision. Apparently, most fish are active at dusk and dawn. I guess early worm gets the fish, as they say.

My second lesson was that going fishing was not equivalent to going to catch fish.  That same camping trip I learned that you can sit for hours, doing nothing, and get no result. Fishing takes patience.

In high school I was invited to go fishing off the pier at a friend’s lake house.  I’d say that this experience was a bit more successful, but it was also the time I learned that fishing requires attentiveness.  Turns out, you can’t cast the line, lean the pole against the rail and trust the fish would bite and politely wait to be reeled in.  Apparently, fish like to eat on the go. I lost my friends fishing pole. 

Growing up, my dad got me a small tackle box.  Through scouts I had collected two or three bobbers, a few weights, some fun little lures and a variety of hooks.  I felt cool.  That is until I was invited to go fishing with a group of folks from scouts.  I took my cute little tackle box with more cubbies and compartments than things to put in them.  I really liked that when I opened the lid, the top compartment raised on its own, revealing the secret hidden compartment beneath.  Anyways, we arrived and got settled. I sat my box on the bench and opened up slowly so others could take notice.  

Meanwhile, I noticed the leader open what I can only describe as one of those giant metal rolling tool cabinets.  Cabinets lined with hooks and lures. Endless drawers full or artificial bait, bobbers, weights, sinkers, and... well that’s the extent of my fishing accessory knowledge.  He strapped on his sleeveless fishing vest. I was intimidated and overwhelmed. That was the day I learned that there are 1000s of species of fish, and every one of them is different and everyone requires a different approach to successfully catching them.  Fishing takes preparation, careful planning, and creativity.

Fishing, from my limited experience and observation is a profound hobby and sport.  And to be successful, it requires immense patience, perseverance, and experience. It requires that you know the fish that you’re trying to catch and that you have the precise tools necessary.  Successful fishing requires hope and endurance. It even means failing. And, perhaps the most profound lesson I’ve learned is that you absolutely cannot catch a fish if you don’t go fishing in some way or another. 

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. ¹⁹ And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." ²⁰ Immediately they left their nets and followed him. ²¹ As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. ²² Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.

Almost every time I read this text or its parallel in Mark or Luke, I get hung up on the immediacy of the disciples’ following.  How is it that at Jesus’ call and invitation, they drop everything to follow this minority voice of hope. They leave it all behind to be in the footsteps of something new - to take part in the reign of God’s kingdom.  

But, for some reason this week, I was hooked by the prospect of fishing for people.  Pun- intended. The notion that as Christians we are called by Christ to become people who fish for people.  To exhaust the metaphor, we are called to cast to the proclamation of Jesus, to shed light on the dark and dreary world, to offer a message of love, grace, forgiveness, peace and hope that is so lure-ing, that others’ can’t help but bite.  Right, and in Jesus’ day, it was more about casting a wide net in hopes that you might catch a few from the many.

And I’ve found myself so deep in prayer lately about Christ’s invitation to fish for people, mostly because I’m a terrible fisherman.  Fishing takes patience and endurance. It takes perseverance. Fishing takes pride and knowledge of the fish you want to catch. And to optimize success it takes the proper use of gifts and tools.

Now look, I don’t mean to suggest that our call as Christians is to bait and lure, or even deceive people into knowing Christ.  I don’t want to overplay the metaphor.  Rather, I think that to be successful in our call to discipleship, to fully honor the privilege and responsibility of proclaiming the grace-filled reign of God, it might take some practice.  Some patience. Some perseverance. If we understand our call from Jesus through the shores of the baptismal font to go forth in the name of Christ to make disciples then at some point we have to at least go fishing, trusting in God to guide us.

Our gospel text today marks the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry.  Following Jesus’ birth, he fled to Egypt for safety with his parents, he was baptized by John in the river.  The spirit descended upon him like a dove and drove him to the wilderness where he was tempted by the devil, and now he withdraws to Galilee and the area of Capernaum.  And it’s here that he begins his public ministry within the gospel according to Matthew.  

And our gospel text opens with a stark reminder of the hostile and tumultuous time that Jesus emerges.  Again, Matthew writes, “Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee.” John the Baptist, the one who came crying in the wilderness, “prepare the way of the Lord.”  The one who pointed to the Messiah and the one who is greater. John, who baptized Jesus in the river and pointed his followers to Christ, has been arrested by Herod.  

Now we won’t hear the story of John’s beheading this year, but within the other gospel narratives we can recall that John the Baptist was beheaded at the request of Herod’s stepdaughter Salome, influenced by her mother, Herodias.  Ultimately, it is a testament to Herod’s rage and violent temperament, sparked by John convicting Herod for divorcing his wife to take his brother’s wife.  

Jesus continues to live and move in the territory of a violent, tyrannous rulers.  In Jesus day, the region around Galilee was ruled by Herod Antipas. He was the son of Herod the Great, the one who tried to manipulate the wisemen into telling him where Jesus was.  Who, ultimately tried to have the baby Jesus murdered. Herod Antipas was known for his brutal nature and his utter intolerance for anyone who may threaten his power.   

Furthermore, the region of Galilee was under Roman Imperial Rule.  The roman rule was an oppressive force that affected a large portion of the population.  Most common citizens relied on brutal, physical, labor-intensive work to support their way of life.  But excessive, unjust taxes suppressed the fruits of their labor. Therefore, many also lived in poverty - void of basic life-sustaining needs.

The kingdom in which they lived was not necessarily one of hope or joy.   It is riddled with intimidation from authority, submission to the Roman Imperial rule, and a longing for the fulfillment of their ancestral promise. 

This is the power of the day that Jesus initiates God’s reign.  While there is a need to be diligent and careful in his ministry, God through Jesus has come to proclaim the presence of a new kingdom, a kingdom ruled by grace, forgiveness, justice, and love.  Jesus is the light of hope, freedom, and justice that is to shine as a light in the darkness of oppressive rule.

This is the time and place to which Jesus as a light to the darkness, proclaiming the promise of the Kingdom of God, a reign of hope, justice, mercy, and grace.  God, through Jesus, has come to offer salvation to God’s people. To raise up the lowly and cast down the mighty. To heal the sick, clothe the naked, feed the hungry, make the blind to see and the mute to speak.  To bring good news to the poor, release to the captives, and to set the oppressed free.  

And one of Jesus’ first actions is to invite others to follow, to risk it all and experience a new way of life.  Inviting them to come and see. 

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. ¹⁹ And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." ²⁰ Immediately they left their nets and followed him. ²¹ 

When Jesus invites the disciples to come and follow, our translation says, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.”  This translation can make it sound as though fishing for people were a task to be completed. And if you’re like me, that’s terrifying, because as you recall, fishing is not my gift.

But thanks be to God, Jesus’ invitation is a richer than our translation might seem   In fact, a better understanding of the invitation might be to say, “Follow me, and I will make you to become fishers for people.”   In this translation fishing for people is no longer a task, but rather becoming fishers of people is a new identity. Jesus invites us to come and see, to participate and learn about the work for the kingdom.  Christ promises to equip the ones who will be doing the fishing. It is to become their new identity. 

They are to become fishers of people.  In a world desperate for the hope of something better, Christ calls and invites these disciples to use their gifts and abilities for the furtherment of the kingdom of God. This is the kind of discipleship that you and I are called to as well

Despite our anxieties or doubts or fears, Christ confidently calls us to be disciples.  To become fishers or people, casting the good news of the light of Christ to all people, all times, and in all places.   And the good news, especially for someone who is not keen on fishing, it is not about us. It’s not about what you or I do.  

It’s about what God does through us.  Using our God given, gifts, abilities, experiences, to cast the story of faith, to fan the spark of hope to a world deeply in need of healing.  And successful fishing, to be sure, successful discipleship is not measured in the number of fish you catch, but rather the passion and commitment to the craft.  True discipleship takes time, patience, endurance, knowledge, experience, trust, and hope.  

Jesus entered the world at a tumultuous time.  God, the Emmanuel, came forth so that the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.  It was true then and it is true today.

And, as I understand it, most fishermen and women don’t just go fishing in order to catch something, but rather they often go fishing, because they’re people who fish, and fishing is what fishermen and women do.  

Amen.

©Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 26, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

Identity and Promise - Sermon on Baptism of Our Lord Sunday - Matt. 3:13-17

Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 12, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

Listen to the Sermon here: 

Matthew 3:13-17

13 Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. 14 John would have prevented him, saying, "I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" 15 But Jesus answered him, "Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness." Then he consented. 16 And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him.17 And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."

SERMON

As pastors, I think we’re discouraged from picking favorites.  I know it’s not the right thing to do, and it’s not fair to give preference to one over another.  But I need to be honest and tell you that I think Baptism is my favorite sacrament of the Lutheran sacraments. At least, for right now.  

To be fair, both sacraments, Baptism and Holy communion are abundant expressions of God’s grace.  In both, the graciousness of God’s mercy and the promise of abundant life are freely given.  Both are gifts to God’s people in which God again affirms the promise that all might have life and have it abundant.  Both are affirmations of God’s forgiveness of sins.  Both are important and both are foundation to the life of the community of faith.  But, I have to say, there is something about Baptism that warms for soul and affirms my faith.  Something about the water that draws me into the arms of our maker, healer, and redeemer.

Baptism gives us identity.  Identity in Christ.  Identity as children of God.  And forever and ever, there isn’t a thing that can diminish, remove, or compromise that identity.  The font is where the labels of the world wash away.  The font stands as the foundation of our inheritance to life and life eternal.  God created.  God claims.  God names.  In the waters of salvation, all doubts of who we are are washed away.  In the sacrament of the water, God names us beloved.  And everything else about our lives ripples out from the fundamental, grace-filled truth.

On one of my first Sunday here 2.5 years ago, I was standing in the back by the font before worship and in came Pastor Bernie Jorn.  We had only met once before at the Oktoberfest meet and greet before I was called, and we had had a brief conversation on the phone about supplying at St. Mark’s.  But other than that, we didn’t really know much about each other.  And as I stood there waiting to start the announcements at 9:30, he came through the door and he said, “Good morning.”  Good morning, I said.  Then he looked at the me, then the font, then me, and he said “Hey, would you mind splashing me.”

It caught me off guard because while I safely assumed he meant, will you touch the water with your thumb and make the sign of the cross on my forehead...it took everything in me not to take a handful of water and pour it on his head and say, “Pastor Bernie Jorn, remember that you are named and claimed in the waters of life, sweet child of God, and nothing will ever change that.”

Since then, every single time Pastor Bernie passes the font he invites me or someone else to splash water on him.  And there are lot of us who do the same.  When we pass from the Narthex to the Nave, or we leave worship and process into the world we dip our fingers in the water, cross our forehead and remember our baptism. 

And if you don’t do it, or haven’t thought about it, I invite you to try it today.  Anytime you pass that font, feel free to at least touch the water and remember who and whose you are. 

That moment with Pastor Jorn several years ago was so powerfully to me, not only because it’s a privilege and honor to remind someone of their baptism and the love of God that has claimed them…but to enter and leave worship through the water of the font is a statement to the world that no other name, label, identifier, club, organization, political affiliation, stereotype, or otherwise can come close to redefining your identity in Christ.  

Remembering your baptism at the start of worship is to reclaim the gift of grace extended to you and me.  To remember that all things will fade away.  All the hats we wear can be removed and set aside.  All the labels and qualifiers of the world are human made and exist to separate us from one another and ourselves.  But that water, that holy sacrament is a proclamation to the world that when all is stripped away, I am claimed by God.  I am God’s child.  I am beloved.  And the water unites us with Christ and with one another. 

To splash in the water is to tell the world that I belong to God.  God chooses me.  God chooses us.  And try as hard as we might to label and define one another, nothing holds a candle to the one and only who saves us.  The one and only who grants us life.  The one and only who claims us as children, as beloved.  

I want to pose a question for your reflection.  Ignite some self-curiosity if you will.  Plant a seed of self-assessment and discernment.  And if you were with us a few months ago, I put forth a similar question and actually invited you to write your answers down.  If you recall, I gave you the prompt “I am..” and invited you to fill in the blank.  Similarly, today, I want us to consider what it is that defines us.   What labels do we model, or better yet what brands us?  When you meet a stranger, who knows nothing about you, what might their impression be. 

Our world and our culture are proud on labeling and categorizing people, aren’t we?  It’s amazing that even the seemingly innocent things we do that can cause us to be defined, labeled, and prejudged.  Especially when you start thinking about the choices, we make in life that begin to define us to others.  The clothes we wear or the jersey we put on.  The car we drive or the bumper stickers we slap on the back.  Our political affiliations and ambitious, the groups we belong to and the organizations we support.  There are so many labels the world has created to define us.  

So, what is that defines you?  I often think about NASCAR cars.  Personally, I’m not a NASCAR fan, but we can all picture NASCAR cars, right?  They’re covered in labels and stickers and images and sponsorship.  And as the car goes around and round for 4 hours, you can’t help but see the relationships and organizations they support.  But, if you peel all of those labels back, and strip the car down, it’s only a car.  And if we think about our lives in a similar way, what labels and brands describe us, and when they’re all peeled back, who are we?  When someone meets you for the first or hundredth time, what labels has the world impressed upon you?

In the gospel according to Matthew, Matthew is working hard to leave no doubt within the world as to who Jesus is.  From his exhaustive lineage in chapter 1, to the multiple references to prophecy through chapter 2, to Jesus’ baptism, the descending dove, and the voice from heaven proclaiming Jesus as God’s son, in whom God is well pleased.  

Matthew wants there to be no doubt among his audience that this guy, Jesus, is the one called for.  He is the one longed for.  He is the Messiah, the great king of kings and lord of lords.  He is the wonderful, counselor, Mighty God, and prince of peace.  He is God’s son.  Emmanuel - God has come near to us.  And he shall be the savior of the people.  All of God’s people.  Matthew wants to ensure that there is no question about his identity.

And I think that deep down, when I splish and splash in the waters of life back there.  

When I touch the water to my forehead and recall my baptism, I think deep down I first lament and confess that the world may have doubts about who and whose I am.  And I desperately long for the world to have no doubt about my identity as a Christian.  As God’s child.  God’s beloved.   As Christians, washed in the waters of new life, should we too be about the word of God so that there is absolutely NO doubt as to who we are.  More importantly, whose we are.  

In the waters of baptism, God claims us as God’s children.  Marked with the cross of Christ, Sealed by the holy spirit.  The heavens torn apart; the Spirit descends.  God makes us heirs of God’s promised salvation.  God’s victory over death. God folds us into the story of compassion, love, grace, peace, and forgiveness.  God clothes us in mercy.  And NOTHING, absolutely nothing, thank God, can change the life we have in God.   Our identity, in the most holistic sense is inextricably connected to God.

And out of the waters, our new identity ought to define the world - not the other way around.  Everything else in our lives ought to be an expression of that grace.  A testament to that gift.  A ripple.  

On Nov. 11, 1943, Martin Luther was baptized in Eisleben Germany at the church of St. Peter and St. Paul.  The church was refurbished several years ago, and when they renovated the inside of the church, they did one of the coolest things.  One of the most powerful images of baptism I have ever seen.   In the front and center of the church, they placed a baptismal font in the floor.  It’s a big, deep font in which someone could easily be submerged.  And in the concrete floors of the church they etched concentric circles all rippling out from the font.  So that, no matter where you sat or stood in the church, you were within the ripples of the font.  It’s incredibly beautiful and I put in on a slide for you to see in Hart Hall.  

This is such a powerful image of Baptism, because try as hard as we might, we absolutely cannot escape the waters of our identity.  We are God’s children, grafted into gracious gift of eternal life, wading in the ripple of salvation.  In the waters God washes away the divisions of world.  Race, ethnicity, sex, gender. All the marks of human-made division fail in the grace of God to offer salvation in this holy sacrament.

We are called to be a member of the body, working for justice and peace in all the world.  We are called to proclaim who is greater, to point to the great I am, to tell of a love so deep and rich.  Called to extend compassion for the less fortunate, advocacy for the lost, and respite for the wandering.  God’s grace-filled claim on God’s people never, never fades away.  Never expires. No label of the world can supersede “Beloved child of God.”

And here is the beautiful thing, when we lose sight of who and whose we are...when the world would work to convince us otherwise, we remember that in the waters of the life also come the promise of the community.  We are not alone.  As members of the body of Christ, we are inextricably connected to one another always called to reflect Christ to others.   And I think it’s so important for us to remember that.  And if ever there were a day to be reminded, it’s today.  

Do me a favor, pull out your cranberry ELW and turn to page 228.  Page numbers at the bottom.  Hymn numbers at the top. 

*At this point I left the pulpit and my sermon to read through the promises of baptism and the communal renunciations.  The sermon closed at the baptismal font where I challenged everyone with two actions:

1) Contact someone in your life you fulfilled the baptismal promises for you

2) Fulfill the promises of baptism for someone else in your life.

©Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 12, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

x

What Does It Cost You? - Sermon on Luke 14:25-33

Listen to the sermon here. 

Luke 14:25-33

25 Now large crowds were traveling with him; and he turned and said to them,²⁶ "Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.²⁷ Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.²⁸ For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it?²⁹ Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him,³⁰ saying, "This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.'³¹Or what king, going out to wage war against another king, will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand?³² If he cannot, then, while the other is still far away, he sends a delegation and asks for the terms of peace.³³ So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.

SERMON

“When Christ calls a human, he bids him come and die.”   These are no doubt powerful words. Anybody familiar with that quote?  Do you know who wrote it? “When Christ calls a human, he bids him come and die.”  When put into context, these words are all the more powerful.

In 1937, at the height of the Nazi Regime, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote a well known book called “The Cost of Discipleship.”  Bonhoeffer was German pastor and theologian, and perhaps most well know for his resistance and opposition to the Nazi party.  From the beginning, Bonhoeffer publically and passionately opposed the Nazi party. Even more so, he was deeply troubled by the misuse of the gospel message and power of Christianity to justify mass genocide.  He was worried that the secularization of faith and grace was a cause for complacency and indifference - that the cost of our salvation was taken for granted, that forgiveness was an endless gift, and therefore and failure or shortcoming as disciples of Christ was shrugged away under the gift of grace.  He called this cheap grace. Grace that is abused and taken for granted. Grace that abounds despite our own sinfulness, our indifference, our hatred, and inability to act.

So, Bonhoeffer spoke adamantly of costly grace.  Grace that convicts us to live into the crucifixion of Jesus and rise again to work towards the kingdom of God, despite the costs.

In his book, he wrote. “Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock. Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ.

 It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son: 'Ye were bought at a price', and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us. Above all, it is grace because God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered him up for us. Costly grace is the Incarnation of God.” 

In the mid 1930s, despite being a vocal and public opposition to the work and belief of the Nazis, Bonhoeffer returned to Germany.  For several years to risk his life traveling from town to town, educating and training clergy and church leaders in underground seminaries.  By 1940, he was shut down by the Gestapo. Banned from Berlin. He was silenced.

He accepted a job at Union Theological Seminary in the US, where he would be safe from persecution.  But within a few short years he said, “I have come to the conclusion that I made a mistake in coming to America. I must live through this difficult period in our national history with the people of Germany. I will have no right to participate in the reconstruction of Christian life in Germany after the war if I do not share the trials of this time with my people ... .I must choose but I cannot make that choice from security.”  

By his convictions as a Christian, and at a cost, he returned to Germany to proclaim the gospel and the grace of Christ.  He was silenced. Harassed. Arrested. Imprisoned in concentration camps. And eventually he was hanged.  

“When Christ calls a human, he bids him come and die.” 

I suppose today’s reading calls to question, what is the cost of being a disciple.  What does it cost to be a Christian. To be a follower of Christ. And I mean that seriously, myself included, what does it cost us to be disciples and followers of Christ?

You don’t have to answer out loud if for no other reason than I don’t know what my own answer would be.  And to be clear, I’m not talking about an hour in worship and a few hours a week of service. I’m not talking about your 10% tithe or charitable giving.  It’s so much more. And it’s what Jesus talks about in front of a large crowd today, what does it cost to be a follower. A disciple.

And I would venture to guess, that once most of us had a chance to think about it, the answer would frankly be “nothing.”  It doesn't really cost us anything. Being a Christian, being a disciple is not in and of itself a risky endeavor. On a day-to-day basis, it cost most of us nothing to be a part of the body of Christ. 

Since baptism, God claimed us and named us, grafted us into the body of Christ.  Into the one mission we share. We were called to be God’s children. And from that day forward, we’re Christians, followers of Jesus, free to invest as much or as little of ourselves, our time, and our possessions as we choose.  And we can be as Christian as we want without it costing us a thing.

But, given today’s text, shouldn’t it cost us something to follow Christ?  Should there be some sense of risk involved? Why doesn’t our discipleship stir up a bit of trepidation or hesitation?  Is following Christ really that...easy?

The word “follow” has taken on such a different meaning in the context of today’s world.  Our cultural and social media dominate life has almost redefined what it means to follow. With the click of a button you can follow almost anyone you want.  And just as easy you can broadcast all of your life for anyone in the world to follow you. Status is gained by having a higher number of followers.  

When we think about Instagram, Facebook, twitter...whatever it is, we are invited to follow the lives of whomever we want.  Famous movie stars, and athletes. Musicians, friends, hobbyists...whomever. With one click we become a follower. A subscriber. 

More importantly, we follow at a distance.  We can watch their every move, read and hear what they have to say, we can like or ignore whatever we do or don’t support.  We follow at a convenient distance. We become subscribers of content.   And the larger the following the more powerful the person we follow.  But this sense of following is actually simply observation, empty and vain.  And it cost us nothing.  

In today’s Gospel text Jesus continues his journey to Jerusalem.  Word has spread about the things he has done and said. People continue to gather around him and the crowds follow.  Now we don’t know how big the crowd was, but it was big enough for the gospel writer to make mention of it. Jesus turns to them all and offers some very blunt words about what is at stake if they desire to be his follower.  

After all, Jesus has his eyes on Jerusalem, where he’ll be arrested, beaten, tried, and crucified.  This journey is not for simple onlookers, marginal observers, and curious inquires. No, Jesus is ushering in a new reign of God, a kingdom that will rattle the foundations of the known world, unsettle the bedrock of the cultural, societal, and political norms.  And if, IF you desire to continue to follow Jesus, you must be honest about what lies ahead, and that it might cost you your very life. 

“When Christ calls a human, he bids him come and die.”

In Jesus’ day, it really was a costly decision to follow Christ.  I think we too often make light of it because in the beginning of the gospel Christ calls and the disciples drop everything and follow.  No big deal.  

But the reality was, following Jesus often meant encountering conflict...with family, friends, coworkers.  It meant forsaking or changing your life-long beliefs about the Messiah and what to expect.  It meant denouncing the ways of a sinful world, challenging powerful systems, venturing to hostile territories, dining with sinners, accompanying the unclean, caring for the oppressed, loving the last and least, finding the lost, and healing the broken. 

Following Jesus truly and literally meant following in his footsteps.  It meant, as the definition goes, paying close attention to Jesus, acting according to his example, conforming to his ways, and striving for his witness.  Following Jesus meant you were bid to come and die. Die to the old ways of life, be transformed by his radical witness of love and justice, and live in proclamation of God’s kingdom.  

So when we ask ourselves what does it cost us to be a disciple and follower of Christ and our answer is nothing, then I think we must re-encounter the gospel message, reassess Christ’s call to come and follow, reevaluate our identity as Christians.   I suspect that when Jesus laid out the cost of being a disciple to the crowd, several people turned around and said never mind. I bet they went on home where life felt safer, easier, and more content.  

Friends, being a Christian, a disciple, a follower of Christ is not something we should take lightly or for granted.  Because the truth is, the call to discipleship has in fact cost us our lives.  

In the waters of baptism we drown to the old way of living and rise again, claimed and named into a new way of life.    And baptism isn’t simply a Rite of initiation. We don’t haphazardly click subscribe to be a Christians and follow safely from a distance.   Leaning in when convenient or beneficial. Stepping back when too risky. 

No, we’re in the thick of it.  IN the footsteps of our radical, counter-cultural Messiah, we’re on a journey to Jerusalem, where our very lives are stake.  Believing in the death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus changes the way we see the world. Being washed in the waters of costly grace and fed at the holy banquet table, where we receive a foretaste of the feast to come transforms the way we live out our life.  Our calling. Our discipleship.  

And in part, that’s exactly what God’s Work. Our Hands day is about.  It’s not just a time of church wide service. It’s not simply about giving our time and resources to intentional serve our neighbor.  God’s Work. Our Hands. Is intended to be a public affirmation...a re-affirmation really that we are called, claimed, named, and appointed disciples of Christ.  

As followers of Christ we don’t just choose to get our hands and feet dirty in the muck of the world, we absolutely cannot help but engage with the brokenness of the world.  

As followers of Christ we cannot help but forsake the lifelong teachings of sinful world, Can’t help but denounce sin, death, devil, and all the forces that defy God.  

We cannot help but challenge unjust systems of power, venture into hostile territory, break bread with sinners, accompany the unclean, care for the oppressed, and love the last and least.  We cannot help but heal the broken and care for creation.

And the truth is, this calling may cost us everything.  Following Christ, being a disciple may cost us everything.  And for many of the apostles and early church leaders, it did.  It cost them their lives.  

My siblings in Christ, our world is bent, broken, oppressed, and in desperate need of healing.  And as the church, the incarnation of God’s costly grace, we absolutely must engage. We must pick of the cross, take the risk, and harken Christ’s bid to come and die. 

Because through death is the promise of resurrection.  And at the cost of following Christ, God promises hope.  God promises forgiveness. God promises grace. God promises everlasting life.  And thanks be to God, it is freely given. 

Amen.

 © Pastor Daniel Locke, Preached on Sept. 8, 2019 @ St. Mark's Lutheran JAX, FL

Repent or Perish - Sermon on Luke 13:1-9

Listen to the gospel lesson and sermon here.

Luke 13:1-9

At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.² He asked them, "Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?³ No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.⁴ Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?⁵ No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did."⁶ Then he told this parable: "A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none.⁷ So he said to the gardener, "See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?'⁸ He replied, "Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it.⁹ If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.' "

It seems no matter how often I read this text, I get caught up on Jesus saying, “but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.”  Perhaps it’s because he says it twice...or maybe it’s because it’s a bit of a terrifying, out-of-the-ordinary statement from Jesus. Repent or Perish.  And to drive his point home he uses the image of a perfectly innocent fig tree, which has a rather fruitless history. And because there is no fruit, which is a metaphor for repentance and a life in God’s will, the master is prepared to cut it down.  But the gardner intercedes and advocates for patience. Give it just one more year. Allow the tree to be tended and cultivated..to be properly nourished and nurtured. Surely then we will see fruit. And if it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.'”  So the Master yields. 

Repent or perish.  These are powerful words with dangerous implications.  There are whole ideologies in our world, especially in this country who take these words out of the context of the gospel and use them not only to condemn anyone they consider to be unworthy of God’s grace, but they also celebrate tragedies as signs of God’s divine judgment upon sinners.  These folks, whom I refuse to give any power to their name, they prey upon victims of serious natural or national tragedies. And I don’t mean prayer as conversation with God. I mean they prey upon them like a lion in the wild, ready to pounce on people’s pain and suffering to amplify their misconstrued theology that bad things happen to you because you are sinful.  Repent or perish is there motto. It’s a powerful and scary interpretation of Jesus’ words this day. It’s a dangerous destructive theology. And it’s all the more reason to give these words the time and attention they deserve. 

In today’s text Jesus is still en route to Jerusalem.  He knowingly continues to the city that will be less than welcoming.  In fact they will be hostile and abusive. And all throughout his journey to Jerusalem he never relinquishes from teaching and healing.  He never tires in his work for the Kingdom. 

Today he encounters some folks who share a tragic story and then ask a very understandable and difficult theological question.  They tell Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.” And the question that arises is if these Galileans were sinners, and even more so, were they murdered for their sins.  Why did these people die? Jesus references another tragic event, in which some 18 people were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them. Again the question is raised, why did these people die? Were they sinful?  Did they die as a result of their sinfulness. Is God issuing some form of divine judgment? And if so, should we be nervous? 

These are common ponderings aren’t they?  Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do earthquakes debilitate 3rd world countries for a generation?  Why do hurricanes regularly level coastlines and why do wildfires continue to decimate communities? Why do our children continue to die at gunpoint?  Why do soldiers face the destruction of war? Why do buildings fall and bridges break? Why do accidents happen to innocent people? Why are women and children sexually assaulted, and whole populations of people abused and neglected for their uniqueness.  Why is cancer so ravenous and destructive? Why do bad things happen to good people? What did they do to deserve this? How did God allow this to happen? 

These are the vulnerable pleas of our faith.  And today that crowd approaches Jesus on our behalf and raises the question of divine judgment or worse, punishment.  

And honestly, these are all truly unfortunate occurrences.  The Galileans killed by Pilate and the 18 killed by the tower of Siloam falling.  They are sad. But the truth is they are completely independent of anyone’s sin or innocence.  

Natural disaster and national tragedies are awful.  Truly unfortunate. Things break. Bridges fail. Towers collapse.  The earth shakes and the mountains tremble. Oceans rage and fires spread.  All terribly sad. But I refuse to believe that any of these tragedies are the result of a victims’ own sins or sinfulness.

Certainly such acts or disaster or tragedy are the result of a sinful person making a sinful decision.   We see this all the time, especially with gun violence now-a-days. Pilate killed the Galileans...a sinful act resulting in unfortunate tragedy.  But I refuse to believe that God is casting divine judgement as punishment for a victim’s individual or corporate sin. 

Being the victim of a tragedy is not punishment for one’s own sin.  Nor is it an indication for sinfulness. Despite what the picketers may say.   And thank God for that, because if it were so, then we would live our lives in constant fear of divine judgment.  We’d constantly be looking over our shoulder. Such tragedies do not teach us about God’s divine judgment or God’s grace.  If anything, such tragedies...like Pilate murdering the Galileans or the tower falling on 18 innocent bystanders..the teach us of the frailty of life.  

And tragedies make life short.  Eighteen people died when a tower fell on them.  These folks were no worse than anyone else. It was a random occurrence, and honestly any of us can be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and become the victim of an accident or tragedy.  This is the kind of fear the crowds laid before Jesus in this morning’s text.

So what do we make of Jesus saying “but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.” 

At first glance, it seems that Jesus is placing repentance at odds with perishing as divine judgement.  Suggesting that these are your only two choices, and we must decide now. And to not repent means perishing for sinful behaviour.  So choose wisely. No, I suspect Jesus is being a bit more rich than that, in light of the crowds concern with recent tragedy and accident.  

Perapas, rather than interpret Jesus as offering an ultimatum, Jesus is acknowledging that life is short.  Tragedy and accidents can make life short. Too short and too unpredictable in fact, to live an unrepentant life.  And for us to think that human suffering is a result of divine punishment for sinfulness...that’s too easy. Too simple.  So, Repent, Jesus says, because life is too short, and it’d be truly unfortunate to die or perish unrepentant. Seems like a relevant message for the season of Lent, doesn’t it?

This is why we begin Lent with Ash Wed….a humble and vulnerable proclamation that life can be short.  That we will all die one day. And from dust and dust, we proclaim and worship a God who is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.  God is patient and persistent. Like a patient, passionate gardner...abiding to the fig tree as long as needed.

And the good news is that repentance is less about finding ourselves or working to become a better person as it is about being found by God.  Acknowledging God’s gift of a life and grace. Accepting God’s relentless pursuit of God’s children...regardless of sin or innocence. Repentance isn’t a measure of human ability or achievement.  Repentance is a the full acceptance of God’s abundance. God’s patient and love-filled pursuit. 

And the truth is, we run.  We love to run and resist the abundant love of a patient and passionate God.   And so repentance is to be found. To be found by a persistent God who never relinquished love.  To be found and loved. To be forgiven by grace. Repentance is to acknowledge God finding us, and turn around...with our whole hearts in worship and praise.

This is the power of a more abundant theology.   Repent or perish isn’t an explanation for tragedy or accident as divine judgement or punishment.  Rather, repent or perish is to acknowledge that frailty of life….A life rich with God’s love, and to perish is to deny, ignore, abandon, dismiss, or take for granted that love.  To perish is to live in absence or ignorance of God’s love. And Jesus deeply desires and longs that no one perish.

This brings us back to Lent.  A season dedicated to self assessment and discernment.  For a mere 40 days we identify, name, and turn away from the parts of our life that cause us to perish...to disrupt, dismiss, or destroy our relationship of God.  Our time in Lent is an intentional commitment to being found. 

And when are found, again and again, God, who is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, offers us nourishment and nutrient.  God empowers us with love, and waters us with grace. So that we may grow to bear good fruit. Fruit of a God’s gracious love. Fruit of repentance.  Fruit that boasts to the world of a God who creates, nourishes, and nurtures...not punishes and destroys. A God who is compassionate and forgiving, not vengeful and vindictive.  A who God who is empowering and affirming. Abiding and abundant. A God who allows no one to perish. 

Amen. 

© Pastor Daniel Locke, Preached March 24, 2019 @ St. Mark's Lutheran, Jacksonville, FL

Freedom - Sermon on John 8:31-36 - Reformation Sunday 2018

Listen to the gospel lesson and sermon here.

John 8:31-36

31 Then Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, "If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples;³² and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free."³³ They answered him, "We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, "You will be made free'?"³⁴ Jesus answered them, "Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin.³⁵ The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there forever.³⁶ So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.

SERMON

So what is so special about this day?  Why is today a festival Sunday? Anybody know?  That’s right, it’s my one year anniversary at St. Mark’s!  That’s what you were all thinking right? One year ago today marked my first Sunday in this pulpit as your newly called pastor.  And while it may be worth noting or even celebrating my anniversary, today’s festival actually remembers and honors the 501st year of the protestant reformation. 

500 and One years ago, a good German monk posted 95 Theses on a church door in Wittenberg, Germany.  Luther’s theses kicked up the dust of complacent theology, and sparked a reformation of the church with an outcome that he never imagined, nor intended.  

His 95 Theses were prompts for debate, meant to encourage theological discourse for the benefit of the whole Christian church.  And even more so, his theses were posted to challenge the Pope and the theology of the Catholic church in his day. 

He strongly believed in a more robust, freeing, and grace-filled interpretation of God revealed in scripture.   He was passionate about the Word of God and making it accessible to all people. He envisioned a Christian faith that sought input and perspective from every member of the body, and worked tirelessly to encourage and empower those not privileged by a seat of religious power to explore, discuss, interpret, debate, and celebrate God’s salvific grace.  

And to be fair and honest, while there is much to honor about Luther’s contribution to church history, we should also acknowledge that he was by no means perfect.

It was my first week here a year ago….it was the 500th anniversary of the reformation.  And I noticed, after walking the hall 100 times, that the there was a hallway dedicated to Luther.  Luther paintings and prints. 95 theses, and images of the reformation. There were books in the cabinet.  

And I remember commenting to someone, “So, what will we display next?”  They looked at me puzzled. “What do you mean?” I said, well it’s the 500th anniversary, and this hall is full of Luther-things, so I only assume it’s decorated for the occasion and I was just wondering what we’ll put up after the reformation.”  I remember them laughing at me then saying...No, this is Luther Hall and these pictures have been here for at least 20 years.”      

Even two weeks ago, former Pastor Bill Trexler walked into the hallway and said “Oh, good, Luther is still hanging here in the hallway!”  I have learned not to make assumptions. 

But the question I ask today is why?  Why celebrate the protest reformation?  Why Luther hall? Why Lutheranism? 

In one of Luther’s many works, he wrote: “The first thing I ask is that people should not make use of my name, and should not call themselves Lutherans, but Christians. What is Luther? The teaching is not mine. Nor was I crucified for anyone. St. Paul, in 1 Corinthians 3, would not tolerate Christians calling themselves Pauls or Peters, but only Christians. How did I, poor stinking bag of maggots that I am, come to the point where people call the children of Christ by my evil name?”

It seems to me that Luther, and the whole company of protestant reformers had absolutely no intention of being honored or venerated for their work. I suspect Luther, lying in his grave underneath All Saints’ church in Wittenberg would be rolling knowing that there is an entire denomination of Christians who identify as Lutherans.  Especially if he knew how fractured Lutheranism itself has become.  And of course, this is to say nothing of having his own hallway at church in Jacksonville, FL 

So why this reformation Sunday?  Why recognize and honor the reformers, whose only intentions was to elevate debate, challenge religious authority, and point to the freedom of God’s grace in Jesus Christ?  

Perhaps the biggest witness this day, is not the act of the reformers, fracturing a church through theological debate, but rather their passion, dedication, and commitment to the re-forming of Christ’s church.  Above all else, we ought to honor the reformation and its many reformers for stirring up complacent theology and equipping the Christian body for theological freedom by pointing to Christ.  For teaching us that Christ’s church was first formed by God, and as long as we belong to God, the body of Christ will always be forming and reforming in God’s grace.

And the best way for us to honor the reformers this day is not to lift them up or elevate their contributions, but rather honor their footprints, hear their message of reform, and trace their finger as they point to Christ.  Christ crucified. And thankfully, in the greatest transformation the Christian church has ever known, Christ conquering death and rising to new life.

In today’s gospel lesson, Jesus is in the Temple Mount and he’s in an on-going conversation with the Scribes, Pharisees.   Through this conversation he begins to win favor among some of the Jews who were listening. Finally he looks to them and says, “if you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” 

He goes on to say, “So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.”   Well, now wait a minute. It seems only a week ago that I stood here and read from the 10th chapter of Mark, where Jesus tells the disciples if any wish to be the greatest or to be first, then you must be a servant to all.  In fact, Jesus says, you ought to be a slave to all. 

A week ago I preached on Jesus calling us to be servants and slaves to one another..  Yet today Jesus reminds us that we are free and free indeed. So which is it? As Christians, are we free or are we slaves?  

Well, on this reformation Sunday, as we honor our heritage and tradition as Lutherans, it seems that perhaps the best Lutheran answer is Yes.  It’s both And. Yes we are free. Yes we are slaves. After all, Lutherans love paradox.

In fact, this is one of Luther’s biggest contributions to the Christian faith. Luther passionately believed and defended relentlessly that it is Christ alone who makes us free.  Christ alone.

By the grace of God in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ we are free from the power of sin, death, and the devil.  We are freed by God. Freedom from the elements of the world that work to disrupt our relationship with God. 

Freed from the lure of a sinful world that thrives on division and destruction, wealth and power.  Freed from corruption of greed. Freed from self-centeredness, standards, judgment, and personal ambition.  We are made free to live life in the God’s creation as God intended.

Freed to live for the sake of the other.  Indebted to no one. Beholden to nothing. God and God alone freely bestows upon us by grace a faith that is rooted in love and service.  And it is through the freedom of God’s grace that we live to serve one another; just as Christ lived to serve.

Freedom from and Freedom for!  To be a Christian is to be totally free from all things and yet to be bound in service to all people.  This is how God formed creation out of nothing to live.  And thank God, that in spite of our faults, shortcomings, or wavering, God continues to form and reform us.  Always making us new. 

One need not look too far now-a-days to see a world in desperate need of transformation.  To see and hear a world that is yearning, groaning even to be re-formed. Groaning as divisions between siblings in Christ deepen and hatred swells.  Crying out as pipe bombs and mass shootings have become a typical news cycle.  Yearning as society dismisses, dismantles, or displaces an entire race, gender, ethnicity, or culture.  Groaning as we live in fear of the other, attacking and accusing rather than listening.   Crying as empathy and compassion are trampled upon by power, fear, and indifference. Yearning as our siblings in Christ risk persecution and judgment in order to just be themselves. As they so desperately long to be seen, heard, recognized, and honored as people of God. One need not look too far now-a-days to see a world in desperate need of transformation.

Luther once said, “The church needs a reformation, which is not the work of humankind…but it is the work of the whole world, indeed it is the work of God alone.”

I think it does us well this day, as we honor the life and work of the protestant reformers, to remember that God is always stirring up something new.  

Since the dawn of creation God has always been about the work of forming and reforming.  In the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God continues God’s promise of reforming and transforming.  Again and again. making all things whole. Making all things new. 

And, friends, hear me when I say this, in the waters, God transforms us.  Frees us from sin death and the devil, and frees us for a life in God’s love and grace. God names us and claims us, seals us with the Spirit and marks us with the cross of Christ, freeing us to serve God and serve one another.  

Freedom to tear down the walls the divide.  Cross the borders, barriers, and aisles.  Reform division into unity and equity.

Freedom to raise up the lowly.  Give privilege and honor to the oppressed and voiceless.  Freedom to work for justice and equality.  Re-form oppressive systems of power..

Freedom to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of the other.  Advocate for the downtrodden, dismissed, and displaced.  Stand up to hatred, violence, and abuse.  

Freedom to challenge human-made standards and expectations. Freedom to challenge powerful systems and proclaim peace. 

Freedom to respect our neighbor, honor our unique gifts, differences, and traditions.  Freedom to worship regardless of race, sex, color, gender, ethnicity, or belief.  Freedom to grieve and mourn. Freedom to see and be seen.  To be heard.  To be know and honored as a child of God.

Freedom to NOT live in fear.   Freedom to confess our sins in the promise of forgiveness.  Freedom to love, love, and if God help and guide us to love some more.  

Freedom to admit defeat, share success, and work together for the sake of the world.  Freedom in Christ to always be made new.

Friends, the freedom God gives us through Christ isn’t meant to be stagnant, complacent, or content.  It is a freedom from but it is also a freedom for. Freedom that should burn within us a fire for justice, peace, and love.  Freedom that has the power to heal the world, offer hope, and restore faith. 

By the grace of God, may we, the church, and the world always be forming, re-forming, and transforming until such a time that all will not only be made new, but all will be made one.  

One in Christ, by God, through the Holy Spirit.   Amen. 

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached Oct. 28, 2018 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Jacksonville, FL