Hankering

Amos 8:1-12

This is what the Lord God showed me: behold, a basket of summer fruit. And he said, “Amos, what do you see?” And I said, “A basket of summer fruit.” Then the Lord said to me,

“The end has come upon my people Israel; I will never again pass by them. The songs of the temple shall become wailings in that day,” declares the Lord God. “So many dead bodies!” “They are thrown everywhere!” “Silence!”

Hear this, you who trample on the needy and bring the poor of the land to an end, saying, “When will the new moon be over, that we may sell grain? And the Sabbath, that we may offer wheat for sale, that we may make the ephah small and the shekel great and deal deceitfully with false balances, that we may buy the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals and sell the chaff of the wheat?”

The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob: “Surely I will never forget any of their deeds. Shall not the land tremble on this account, and everyone mourn who dwells in it, and all of it rise like the Nile, and be tossed about and sink again, like the Nile of Egypt?”

“And on that day,” declares the Lord God, “I will make the sun go down at noon and darken the earth in broad daylight. I will turn your feasts into mourning and all your songs into lamentation; I will bring sackcloth on every waist and baldness on every head; I will make it like the mourning for an only son and the end of it like a bitter day.

“Behold, the days are coming,” declares the Lord God, “when I will send a famine on the land—not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord. They shall wander from sea to sea, and from north to east; they shall run to and fro, to seek the word of the Lord, but they shall not find it.

During a Michigan winter we yearn for the warmth of summer. During the heat of summer we covet a crisp and frosted autumn. In the fall we then lament the passing away of fresh vegetables previously available. Right now spring cannot come fast enough, and six months from now people will be impatient for Christmas. Youngsters want to grow up fast so they can experience more and oldsters would gladly suspend time to grab a little more.

I mention these not to suggest all such thoughts are inappropriate, but to suggest often we are restless and discontent, unsatisfied and forgetful of all God has given us in the present.

St. Peter wrote, “Grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord. His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence …” (2:2-3)

So, here are you and I, as the baptized, in this moment quite literally the beneficiaries of absolutely all things important and needed for life and godliness. Who could want more when there is no more? Hankering for more is foolish because God has given us His all.

One of Aesop's fables you may remember is about a dog carrying a bone. While crossing a stream the dog looks down into the water and sees its own reflection. Taking it for another dog carrying something better, it opens its mouth to snatch the other bone and in doing so drops and loses what it was carrying. Stretching for more, the creature actually loses all.

Dissatisfaction may not seem such a terrible thing compared to other transgressions, but the danger of dissatisfaction is that it is the gateway sin. Hankering was the downfall of mankind in Eden. The serpent didn’t lure Eve and Adam into thievery, adultery, or murder. He seduced them into hankering, and hankering was the breach through which all was lost.

Amos was God's prophet during the reigns of Jeroboam, ruler of Israel, and Uzziah, King of Judah, at a time when both kingdoms were at the peak of prosperity. Not unlike our United States in our cornucopia of possessions. But Amos preached also at a time when people had reached a low point in their devotion to Yahweh, the God of Israel. The people couldn’t wait for the Sabbath to be over so they could squeeze more riches and profits out of the poor for themselves. Hankering for ever greater proceeds, they had no time to celebrate the merciful gifts of God. Dishonest scales, adulterated commodities, fraudulent practices — all were the upshot of hankering for more, and it would soon lead to the forfeiture of everything.

The fact is that a thirst for things, earthy articles of trade and humanly produced objects, can never be enough. To make such things into gods is the height of folly, simply a hankering for more, more, more all the time. And the fact is: we know it. Those who are materialistic know it. Sophisticated and experienced or not in the art of stockpiling, everyone knows it can't last.

It only ends with the fool losing everything. Jesus said as much in the parable of the rich fool (Luke 12:13-20) where the great tragedy is not the loss of the material things but the loss of one’s life.

Through Amos, the Lord said, “Behold, the days are coming, when I will send a famine on the land—not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord. They shall wander from sea to sea, and from north to east; they shall run to and fro, to seek the word of the Lord, but they shall not find it.”

Amos had seen a basket of summer fruit, emblematic of bounty and blessing. But the hankering of the people made that sign a marker of the end of the harvest, the end of fruitfulness, and the end of plenty.

The greatest gift to us, therefore, is being returned to Christ, to realize that in Him no situation we may face really matters; no station in life is relevant; no status of purse or size of house makes a difference.

The real difference is between contentment in the promises and provisions which God so generously gives us in His Word and that stupid hankering that yields nothing in the end.

St. Paul said it well, “I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me…. And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus. To our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen. (Philippians 4:10f)

Isn't that lovely! My God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus!

Don't Shoot

Psalm 51:1-7

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love;

according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions.

Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin!

For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.

Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you may be justified in your words and blameless in your judgment.

Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me.

Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being, and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart.

Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

You never know what small children will say.

One profound comment came from my nephew's young son awhile back. The family lives in the state of Washington, and they are very dedicated to their church. It doesn't happen to be a Lutheran congregation, but that's beside the point.

Anyway, little Levi Reed was with his family at a church service, and they sang a song which included the words "I surrender all." Levi's father (my nephew, Matt) was asking Levi later in the day what it meant to surrender. He asked the boy, "If we sing in church, 'I surrender all,' what does that mean?"

(Already I like hearing that good “Lutheran” question, “What does this mean?”)

Anyway, Levi got a quizzical look on his face. He thought about it for a minute and then he said ……

"Don't shoot??"

Levi has excellent theology.

Contrary to the teaching in a lot of churches, "I surrender" is not our gift to God. It's not the presentation of a heart we pledge to God or a dedication to which the believer obligates himself.

The only surrender which matters is the one made by Christ who surrendered His life on the cross for us all, yielding up Himself that we be shielded from the slings and arrows we deserve.

The only "I surrender" which can issue from the lips of fallen sinners is the appeal, "Don't shoot."

Kyrie Eleison, Lord, have mercy. Don't shoot me!

In essence, this was the supplication of the two blind men calling out to Jesus, "Have mercy on us, Son of David!" (Matthew 9:27) Don't shoot. The penitent cries in Psalm 31, "Be merciful to me, O Lord, for I am in distress." Don't shoot me.

It is also the desperation of Elijah, "I am the only one left, and they are trying to kill me." Don't shoot.

We put our hands high in the air (“stick ‘em up”) not because we have anything to hold out as an offering to God but in confession that there is nothing in my hands I bring. Like the prodigal son who implored his father just to make him a servant -- only just don't shoot me as I deserve.

Sinners are in the cross-hairs facing a just execution. What can we cry out except, "Don't shoot."

God's merciful answer is more than we could ever hope for. Jesus, in our place, stepped to that cross – into those cross-hairs. For us the Son of God was slaughtered. He never argued that he didn't deserve it or cry for clemency. He surrendered his life. His plea was not to be spared but to do as the Father's willed. He gave us the gift which was more than just his heart. Jesus gave us his righteous, his obedience, his kingdom and his very life. He obligated himself to sparing us by the sacrifice of his own life.

"I surrender" is false theology if it denotes an action I chose to deliver my life to God. Christian salvation is God through Christ delivering His life to us.

St. Paul was absolutely correct in making clear that even surrendering our body to the flames gains nothing without the prior and preeminent love of Christ. We have no plea but for mercy. And to that cry comes the answer in Jesus' final breath from the cross. “When Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit." He surrendered. His arms were raised.

In one of our hymns, it is not the Christian to whom the words are applied, but the Christ who humbly utters:

"My heart abounds in lowliness, My soul with love is glowing;
And gracious words My lips express, With meekness overflowing.
My heart, My mind, My strength, My all, To God I yield, on Him I call.

To God, Jesus yielded for us, surrendering his life. His surrender is our victory; and now his victory is the means by which all things are yielded to him in faith.

Should we seek to yield even our lives for God as an act of merit, it achieves nothing. Our strength and joy is God, the Son, whom the Father surrendered to the cross for us.

Rats!

2 Samuel 11:10-17

When they told David, “Uriah did not go down to his house,” David said to Uriah, “Have you not come from a journey? Why did you not go down to your house?” Uriah said to David, “The ark and Israel and Judah dwell in booths, and my lord Joab and the servants of my lord are camping in the open field. Shall I then go to my house, to eat and to drink and to lie with my wife? As you live, and as your soul lives, I will not do this thing.” Then David said to Uriah, “Remain here today also, and tomorrow I will send you back.” So Uriah remained in Jerusalem that day and the next. And David invited him, and he ate in his presence and drank, so that he made him drunk. And in the evening he went out to lie on his couch with the servants of his lord, but he did not go down to his house.

In the morning David wrote a letter to Joab and sent it by the hand of Uriah. In the letter he wrote, “Set Uriah in the forefront of the hardest fighting, and then draw back from him, that he may be struck down, and die.” And as Joab was besieging the city, he assigned Uriah to the place where he knew there were valiant men. And the men of the city came out and fought with Joab, and some of the servants of David among the people fell. Uriah the Hittite also died.

Uriah was a Hittite. For the sake of argument, let’s assume that not being a Jew, he simply fought for Israel as a mercenary. We don’t know that, but let’s just say he was simply a foreigner handy to fight Israel’s enemies but essentially an opportunist selling his sword. If so, then his devotion to principle is astonishing.

King David recalled Uriah from the battlefield as a subterfuge. David had violated Uriah’s wife, conceiving a child by her, so it doesn’t take great imagination to see David’s scheme to cover his tracks by bringing the woman’s husband back for a weekend early in her pregnancy. Uriah, without any knowledge of this background, suppresses his own privilege for the sake of principle. He has men and fellow officers in the field, not to mention the Ark of God, and he would keep common cause with them even while away.

Rats!

Now, let’s put the best construction on it. Let’s suppose Uriah was a proselyte to Judaism. After all, he has a Hebrew wife and is referred to by a Hebrew name, so this isn't a stretch. In this case he is not merely a soldier of fortune but a loyal worshiper of Jehovah. If so, his devotion is not simply to principle but to a personal profession of faith. How refreshing is this!

Rats!

King David was the most privileged and blessed of men. Leave aside all the wealth, power, prestige, and popularity he had in Israel. Leave aside his God-given talents as a musician and poet. Leave aside his personal covey of children and royal consorts. Above all that, David was beloved by God. The name David means exactly that, “beloved.” God dearly loved him. Of David, the axiom should apply: To whom much is given, much is expected. (Luke 12:48)

Rats!

Here is David, a man of God, thoroughly endowed with every conceivable favor, yet he is excelled by Uriah, a religious novice at best or a rank unbeliever at worst. Either way, David is disgraced. You see, it doesn’t matter who you are or by whom you compare yourself. When sin occurs in the life of a Christian, there can be no pulling rank. Just because David is highly graced, there are no “complimentaries” (“comps”) in the kingdom of God.

David was playing roulette with Bathsheba. Clearly he was playing fast and loose. But unlike at a casino where you earn “comps” by how much you play, not by how much you lose, David made a terrible and wicked misjudgment. It wasn't fundamentally his adultery, awful as that way. It was the idea that he could be an exception, that standards are relaxed a bit for long-time believers. It’s the idea that the life-time church member, the pillar of the community, or one of the founders of the congregation can expect a little slack. After all, didn’t David have a little reserve to work with? Didn’t he have the believer’s blue blood?

I am reminded of Jesus’ parable of the two sons in Matthew 21:28-31.

“What do you think? A man had two sons. And he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ And he answered, ‘I will not,’ but afterward he changed his mind and went. And he went to the other son and said the same. And he answered, ‘I go, sir,’ but did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Truly, I say to you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes go into the kingdom of God before you.”

The only credentials we have as Christians are those bestowed upon us by our gracious and merciful God through Christ. A son of God, even if he is a David, who talks a good case but doesn’t actually submit himself in repentance and faith must not fool himself that God settles for giving a consolation prize. In other words, one squanders the blessings of God through sin but can at least walk away with a consolation prize.

That’s not how it is. The forgiveness David eventually received was not a booby prize.

God gives unmerited grace and pardon to adulterers, prostitutes, tax collectors, liars, and even murderers. David murdered Uriah. But God does not grant forgiveness because someone believes himself entitled. David apparently believed himself entitled to different boundaries and entitlements.

It was actually Uriah who was entitled. He was entitled to go home and spend time with Bathsheba because she was his wife. Because he was a loyal soldier, Uriah was entitled to the esteem of his sovereign. Because he was a dependable officer he was entitled to lead his men fair and square into battle without having his troops withdrawn leaving him defenseless.

Though Uriah comes away from this episode without his life, he enters the annals of this era of Israel ahead of David, not because he was entitled but because he was constrained by faith. I’d like to believe it was saving faith in the promises of Israel’s God rather than simply faith in military principle. But who cannot admire Uriah for an example of honor ahead of entitlement?

The lesson for us today who are so overwhelmingly endowed with the blessings of God in Christ is that we must never forget we share the very same need and anonymity of the lowliest sinner. David forgot that. And when God calls us to honorable, holy living and righteous service, it is the deepest privilege … absolutely never a time to think ourselves a little bit better than a guy like Uriah down the ranks or a little freer to stretch on scruples because of being an “old-hand” Christian.

When we are caught in sin or preceded by repentant harlots and thieves entering the kingdom, it is absolutely never a time to say …

Rats. Shouldn’t I at least get some comps?

Never Mind Your Own Business

1 Samuel 13:8-15

He waited seven days, the time appointed by Samuel. But Samuel did not come to Gilgal, and the people were scattering from him. So Saul said, “Bring the burnt offering here to me, and the peace offerings.” And he offered the burnt offering. As soon as he had finished offering the burnt offering, behold, Samuel came. And Saul went out to meet him and greet him. Samuel said, “What have you done?” And Saul said, “When I saw that the people were scattering from me, and that you did not come within the days appointed, and that the Philistines had mustered at Michmash, I said, ‘Now the Philistines will come down against me at Gilgal, and I have not sought the favor of the Lord.’ So I forced myself, and offered the burnt offering.” And Samuel said to Saul, “You have done foolishly. You have not kept the command of the Lord your God, with which he commanded you. For then the Lord would have established your kingdom over Israel forever. But now your kingdom shall not continue. The Lord has sought out a man after his own heart, and the Lord has commanded him to be prince over his people, because you have not kept what the Lord commanded you.” And Samuel arose and went up from Gilgal. The rest of the people went up after Saul to meet the army; they went up from Gilgal to Gibeah of Benjamin.

“But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.” (1 Cor. 9:27)

St. Paul’s statement here of the danger of negligence within himself is a sobering caution to preachers. If he does not preach first to himself, not only should he not expect anyone else to take him seriously, but he places himself at risk of jeopardizing his own salvation.

To anyone who might read this, I speak primarily of myself. I acknowledge I have not demonstrated the kind of discipline I should. Self-control, especially in spiritual things, is an exhausting and illusive virtue. The thought of having the very treasure of Christ which I have the privilege to proclaim lost out of my own hands is alarming. Yes, the world would lure us away from our hope in Christ; the devil would gladly snatch from us the prize; but the greatest danger in my case anyway, would be to fumble away the victory of my own accord.

This is why I implore you to pray for your pastor(s).

Doctor Luther in one of his sacristy prayers, beseeches God, “O Lord God, dear Father in heaven, I am indeed unworthy of the office and ministry in which I am to make known Thy glory and to nurture and to serve this congregation. But since Thou hast appointed me to be a pastor and teacher, and the people are in need of the teachings and the instructions, O be Thou my helper and let Thy holy angels attend me.”

Then in another prayer, he confesses, “… you see how unsuited I am to meet so great and difficult a task. If I had
lacked Your help, I would have ruined everything long ago… but do not forsake me, for if ever I should be on my own, I would easily wreck it all.”

What stands out for me here is the thought, “If ever I should be on my own.”

To forge ahead on one’s own is surely to imperil one’s life. To go solo is to have no recourse but one’s own wit, will, and work. To assume for oneself the entire responsibility for life and future is fearsome. How can I, for example, as a pastor take responsibility for the spiritual good of others if I cannot manage my own heart, faith, and conduct? (1 Tim. 3:5)

I’m put in mind of Jesus in his home town of Nazareth, teaching in the synagogue from Isaiah that He Himself was the Messiah whose coming is good news to the poor, release for the captives, sight for the blind, and liberty for the oppressed. (Luke 4:16-30) But Jesus’ neighbors took offense that He should take such authority into his own hands and call them to repentance by the Scripture’s testimony that God's grace will be given to those outside Israel should the Jews fail to do so.

Jesus anticipated their resentful retort, “Physician, heal yourself” (v. 23). In other words; Jesus, take care of your own business before you presume to preach to us. Don’t you dare lecture us until you’ve made good with your own affairs. This angry “Parthian shot” at Jesus is classic, “Mind your own business!”

Those in the synagogue didn’t realize Jesus was minding his business.

It was the work of the Holy One to preach, teach, pardon, heal, evangelize, and liberate the captives. Jesus did mind his business, the concerns for which His Father sent him. He reprimanded and admonished the self-reliant; he consoled and lifted the contrite; and in the end completed the one great responsibility assigned to Him—a vicarious death by which you and I would be qualified before God and entitled to all the treasures of the kingdom of God.

This is why pastors must realize they are never independent. Preachers of the Gospel are not autonomous prima donnas. There is nothing more caustic to the church than narcissism in a pastor. It is in this that we see the failing of King Saul. His office went to his head.

Saul supposed himself competent and able to “mind his own business.” He would do things his way rather than by the Lord’s command. Saul preened himself and crowed about victories in which he had no hand. He had an inflated sense of himself. When the tide turned and matters didn’t suit his timing or inclination, Saul took matters into his own hands. He made it his business to do what wasn't his business. Saul offered burnt offerings contrary to the exclusive function and prerogative of the priests. By doing so, he not only believed he could handle things himself but even ventured to annex God. The foolhardy decisions and errors of Saul just pile up (read 1 Samuel 14-15).

Saul was one of the weakest characters in Scripture because he took matters into his own hands. He “took care of business” all right. He did his business right into the ground.

He would have done well to pray, “O God, do not forsake me, for if ever I should be on my own, I would easily wreck it all.”

Fortunately, we can learn as much from the ham-handed, improvident, and flawed persons of Scripture as we can from the upright and righteous. We can learn of the folly and futility of a life undisciplined by the Word of God—a life disconnected from the very thing we presume to proclaim. From this, dear Father, protect us.

This applies to all of us, not just pastors. A terrible attitude of parishioners toward their pastors, for example, is the “Mind your own business” mind-set. I don’t need a visit. I don’t need instruction. I don’t need an imperfect pastor—like you—telling me I need correction, healing, or nourishment. I can take care of my own business. My faith is a private affair.

As a pastor, I readily confess I have a wretched struggle when it comes to mastering my own spiritual discipline. The track record is downright sad. But as Luther said, “If ever I should be on my own, I would easily wreck it all.”

Saul presumed to go solo, to manage God, to trust his own hands and choices. It was a disaster. The Jews in Nazareth dared to tell the Messiah not to interfere with their private lives and mind his own business.

The paradox is that Jesus did what none of us could do — what none of us must ever attempt to do. He proceeded on His own. By himself, He bore the weight, shame, and torment of the cross. He received no aid, no relief, and no consolation. One man truly alone and single-handedly saved the world. He was ineligible for mercy, disallowed even the slightest kindness or pity.

It is this substance of His work and achievement we proclaim. Any severance from Him by being wrapped up in ourselves must be the vanguard prayer of our confession, “Physician, heal me! And then— never ever let me go it alone, lest I so easily wreck it all.”

He's Got It Exactly Right

I don't know who this guy is ... but I recognize the Gospel when I hear it.



On the other hand, I do know who this guy is below here, and I recognize false-teaching when I hear it. He doesn't have a clue of the Gospel.
No Christ. No repentance. No cross.
All law. All unscriptural. All man-centered. All profane and heretical.

What a difference between the two!





"Praise precedes the victory. Your praises allow God to arrange things in your favor. You're supposed to live a victorious life, abundant life. You're supposed to rise above your circumstances."

"During the week it's easy to have things that try to pull us down, maybe somebody offended you or you have a disappointment, you made a mistake and you're kinda mad at yourself. You've got to let every day be a new beginning. You gotta just receive God's mercy for today, and say, I'm not going to drag the negative things from yesterday to today."

"I'm gonna … I'm gonna … I'm gonna …"

"You gotta just get your vision back. You gotta get your focus back -- get your thoughts going in the right direction. You gotta shake that off and say, “No, I know that God has victory in store for the upright.”

"Your best day are still in front of you. but you know what? You gotta do your part; you gotta stir it up on the inside. You gotta get it on the inside; you gotta see it through your eyes of faith before it’s gonna come to pass on the outside."

"God works where there’s an attitude of faith … God is moved by our faith. God is not moved when we go around depressed. God is moved when we say, “God, I’ve got some problems, but I’m trusting you.”

"When you get your faith out there, that’s what moves God."

--- No, no, no, and no. Don't buy ANY of this hogwash!

You Have Only To Be Silent

Exodus 14:13-14

And Moses said to the people, “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will work for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall never see again. The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.”

All too soon our children hear and see things they shouldn’t. Once, when our family was younger, one of our daughters happened to be in a room where a television was turned on. The dialogue from one character in some show overstepped the boundaries of our home. Our youngster overheard this actor in a heated scene, exclaim, “Shut up, d____ you!”

Horrified, our daughter turned to her mother and said, “Mommy, Mommy, did you hear that? He said a bad word! He said …. shut up!” Fortunately, our daughter didn’t know then the uglier invective, but she was no less shocked by words she’d been taught must not be spoken in our house.

There are times, many times I’m sure, when by instinct we would like to turn back offensive words on those from whom they come, “No, you shut up!” Give them a taste of their own medicine. Answer back.

But trading words like that is desperate and disgraceful. It only dirties the responder. If you hoist your enemy’s cannon ball and fire it back at him, you’ve only given him the invitation to launch it at your head again.

Listen, I won't deny there are times when we just wish the world would shut up (sorry, I mean “be quiet”), and I don’t just mean button up all that nonsense about Charlie Sheen. Let’s have some quiet from the 24 hour news cycle with its incessant “talking heads” and relentless advertisers. I still can't get used to seeing people walk about with a Bluetooth hanging on their ear. Those things are clunkier and more unattractive than old Uncle Vernon’s primitive hearing aids.

Enough already!

But really, that’s not the silence I crave. After all, you can actually turn off the TV, internet, beeper or telephone. But there is a clamor in this world we can't just switch off.

One is the voice of our natural environment damaged by sin. ”It’s water roar and foam.” (Ps. 46) Nature is fluent in telling us that all things in this world age and decay, not just flowers that flourish in the spring and then whither, not just creatures that vary in their life-cycles from the average mayfly that survives at most a few hours or the giant tortoise that at may go 150 years or more. A sequoia can live hundreds of years or a bristlecone pine for thousands but not forever. One day these too crash to the forest or dessert floor. Geologists even tell us mountains age and decay. I don’t like hearing it because I’m no exception. Nature is incessantly letting me know nothing of this fallen world lasts.

More ceaseless noise from “the rage of nations” (Ps. 46) collides with our consciousness. Egypt wasn't the first and it certainly wasn't the last nation to raise its voice in outcry against others. The cacophonous refrain of peoples at war is thunderous.

And then there is the voice of our conscience that never seems to quit talking either. The running dialogue and quarrelsomeness between my own ears is perpetual. It’s not a racket that can be silenced by me. I’m glad most thoughts making their appearance in my head aren’t broadcast as a TV script.

How astonishing and radical then is the announcement and charge God gave to His people of old at the Red Sea, “The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.”

Only be silent.

In other words—don’t do anything! You don’t have to defend yourself. You don’t have to plan. You don’t have to make decisions. You don’t have to perform. You don’t have to worry. You don’t have to run. You don’t have to negotiate. You don’t even have to think. Only be silent.

The Lord will fight for you.

Hollering about the Egyptians galloping down on them wouldn’t do a bit of good. Windy speculations about how to get out of this crisis would only do more harm than good. Bleating and bellyaching to Moses that it’s better to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness is absurd. God doesn’t need a bunch of gasbags.

All that we need we have in the Word and work of God. God promised Israel that He would do their fighting. He would do the planning, the defending, and the leading. He would care for, speak for, and act for His people. The Lord is God. His Word not only says it better than any utterance of ours; His Word is the only speech that matters. Nature doesn’t lecture God. “He utters his voice, the earth melts.” (Ps. 46)

Our conscience can't successfully dispute the rectitude and righteousness of God's Word of forgiveness. God stills the conscience with his Gospel, the forgiveness of sins.

So, just be quiet.

There isn't a better posture for any of us than sheer silence before God's almighty Word. It’s also the safest place to be in a turbulent world. God's Word is impregnable. When God told Israel, “The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent,” he was setting the emancipation template for the whole mess into which we’ve fallen in this world.

The answer to everything that comes against us, whether vulgarity in our ears or those of our children, whether the perils of the world, the accusations of our conscience, or the threat of our enemy — the answer is the Word and work of God in Christ. He has fought for us and stilled the enemy and the avenger (Ps. 8:2)

I rather think the sons of Korah may have been thinking of God at the Red Sea when they penned the 46^th Psalm (the psalm on which Luther based “A Mighty Fortress”)

“Come, behold the works of the Lord,

how he has brought desolations on the earth.

He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;

he breaks the bow and shatters the spear; he burns the chariots with fire.

“Be still, and know that I am God.

I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”

The Lord of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress.

The Pause in the Pendulum

Exodus 12:1-13, 29-32

The Lord said to Moses and Aaron in the land of Egypt, “This month shall be for you the beginning of months. It shall be the first month of the year for you. Tell all the congregation of Israel that on the tenth day of this month every man shall take a lamb according to their fathers' houses, a lamb for a household. And if the household is too small for a lamb, then he and his nearest neighbor shall take according to the number of persons; according to what each can eat you shall make your count for the lamb. Your lamb shall be without blemish, a male a year old. You may take it from the sheep or from the goats, and you shall keep it until the fourteenth day of this month, when the whole assembly of the congregation of Israel shall kill their lambs at twilight.

“Then they shall take some of the blood and put it on the two doorposts and the lintel of the houses in which they eat it. They shall eat the flesh that night, roasted on the fire; with unleavened bread and bitter herbs they shall eat it. Do not eat any of it raw or boiled in water, but roasted, its head with its legs and its inner parts. And you shall let none of it remain until the morning; anything that remains until the morning you shall burn. In this manner you shall eat it: with your belt fastened, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand. And you shall eat it in haste. It is the Lord's Passover. For I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and I will strike all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am the Lord. The blood shall be a sign for you, on the houses where you are. And when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague will befall you to destroy you, when I strike the land of Egypt ….

…. At midnight the Lord struck down all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, from the firstborn of Pharaoh who sat on his throne to the firstborn of the captive who was in the dungeon, and all the firstborn of the livestock. And Pharaoh rose up in the night, he and all his servants and all the Egyptians. And there was a great cry in Egypt, for there was not a house where someone was not dead. Then he summoned Moses and Aaron by night and said, “Up, go out from among my people, both you and the people of Israel; and go, serve the Lord, as you have said. Take your flocks and your herds, as you have said, and be gone, and bless me also!”

Times either side of death are busy times. Before a death there is haste to express final words and make final arrangements. Family members hurry from whatever distance to see a loved one for the last time. Word arrives from an attending physician that the last hours have come. Under those circumstances loved ones rouse themselves even in the night to hasten to the bedside.

The time following a death is also a busy time. Contact with extended family, consultation with a funeral director, travel plans are worked out, food is brought in. There is a flurry of activity which belies the sorrow but helps distract and subdue the feelings of emptiness as neighbors or friends stop by for a word of condolence.

Between these two occupations is the suspension of life like the fleeting pause of a pendulum that interrupts those busy pursuits before and after — and all is still. It takes but a moment to draw a last breath, but something enormously profound occurs in that noiseless instant. If for only a moment, everything hangs in critical stillness for here indeed roads diverge. The child of God in Christ embarks for home, never again to know a loss or sorrow, never again to experience a tear or failing — never, never again to know the bitter taste of sin. In the safe-keeping of Christ is his tranquility. The momentous change is in the twinkling of an eye.

Dreadful, however, comes that mute moment for anyone not in Christ. For them the severance is no less acute, but it is motionlessness like the suspended instant between a near simultaneous lightning flash and the roar of thunder. The opportunity to repent, to receive the favors of a gracious God long held out to them, to see the light, to be released from the fear of death departs in one ephemeral and solitary tick of time.

The Passover is that moment.

Previous to this night God fills his Hebrew people with a surge of occupations; selection of a lamb without blemish for the household, alliance with neighbors if their family circle is too small, readiness of the lamb from either the sheep or goats, denoting the calendar and arranging the assembly. Then, near the very last, the slaughter, the application of blood to the doorposts, the hasty meal of expressly prescribed elements, the fire for that which remains, the dress for a journey.

Egypt too is busy with its own occupations. Pharaoh sits upon his throne. Some undoubtedly are overseeing livestock, others guarding dungeons, or most simply continuing the daily pursuit they know. And then the Lord passed through the land. All occupations cease.

Israel waits and watches in vigil. Egypt kills time, precious time. The dividing moment, the moment of death comes.

For God’s people that moment in the night is a death — a death of their slavery, the end of their shame and sorrows, the death of their disgrace and humiliation. One moment they are captive Israel, crushed and coerced by an implacable master. But under the blood of the sacrifice the next moment they are free, embarking for the land of eternal promise and prosperity.

For Egypt, however, the same moment strikes with blinding ferocity. The firstborn, the best and brightest, the very future of Egypt is lost forever as when a pyre is doused with sand and stone. With no discrimination of either man, beast or gods, the ending and extremity of death envelop all that is unshielded by the blood of the lamb. The chord is broken, the golden bowl shattered, and there is not even a moment for sympathy before Egypt takes up its new occupation, the enterprise of grief and wailing.

Moses and the people are also busy. Their hour of departure has come. And what is their occupation? How incongruous that it should be articulated by the final statement of Pharaoh. Even he cannot escape acknowledgement of the meaning of Israel’s deliverance, “Up,” he says, “go out from among my people … go, serve the Lord.”

Israel would indeed go, worshiping and rejoicing … as we do who are covered by the Blood of the Lamb of God, Jesus Christ, who has taken away the sin of the world. His holy, precious, paschal blood – Jesus' life blood was shed for us to grace our waiting on that hour, to sanctify our final flight from this vale of tears, and to dress us for the joyful occupations of praising our God and the Lamb unto ages of ages.

Holy Ground

Exodus 3:1-12

Now Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law, Jethro, the priest of Midian, and he led his flock to the west side of the wilderness and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. And the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush. He looked, and behold, the bush was burning, yet it was not consumed. And Moses said, “I will turn aside to see this great sight, why the bush is not burned.” When the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Do not come near; take your sandals off your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” And he said, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

Then the Lord said, “I have surely seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt and have heard their cry because of their taskmasters. I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the place of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. And now, behold, the cry of the people of Israel has come to me, and I have also seen the oppression with which the Egyptians oppress them. Come, I will send you to Pharaoh that you may bring my people, the children of Israel, out of Egypt.” But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the children of Israel out of Egypt?” He said, “But I will be with you, and this shall be the sign for you, that I have sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall serve God on this mountain.”

Hallowed ground.

Abraham Lincoln spoke at Gettysburg about hallowed ground consecrated not by speechifying or the erection of monuments but by the blood shed upon it. Lincoln acknowledged the purpose of dedicating a portion of that great Civil War battlefield as a final resting place for many of the fallen, but, he declared, “We can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract.”

Since 2001, many have considered the site of the World Trade Towers hallowed ground because of those entombed there. At Arlington’s Tomb of the Unknowns, the privileged officers who guard the tomb serve with absolute precision, dress immaculately, and pledge themselves to exemplary conduct even when off-duty because they reverence the holy ground they dare to step upon. It is unthinkable to allow even a truant piece of lint to tarnish the uniform. They guard holy ground. Visitors to Arlington are not asked whether they will stand or remain silent. They are told to do so. That’s how they learn it is holy ground.

It is not an option to wander around or chat during the changing of the guard. You are not asked to remove your baseball cap. You are commanded to do so. If you don’t like it, then don’t tread on holy ground. Courtrooms were also regarded as solemn places, holy ground of a different sort. The solemnity of the Law enjoins a judge to be properly garbed. Legal advocates whether for the prosecution or the defense are bound to a code of ethics and such conduct is subject to penalty if transgressed. Even the accused will stand as court comes to session. It is holy ground.

It was once far more common to consider a Christian church sanctuary holy ground. You stood or you kneeled. You didn’t lounge. You spoke in whispers or you confessed the faith or sang in full-throated voice because you were on holy ground. You didn’t clap or laugh. You dressed your best; your parents marshaled your best behavior not to be argued. You were on holy ground. The sanctuary was consecrated by the Word of God and prayer. It was ground set aside for the holiest of gifts, the Name of God, the proclamation of His forgiveness, the reading of the Gospel, the preaching of Christ, and the celebration of the blessed sacraments.

We cannot hallow such ground. We cannot consecrate it. It is holy because of the blood of Christ, because of the sacredness of His Word, and because of the presence of God who pours out his undeserved mercy on poor sinners as we.

But think.

One would never consider at Gettysburg attaching vending machines to each of the monuments to meet the felt needs of the public. It’s holy ground. Planners at Ground Zero would never contemplate designing a roller-blade/skate park inside the 9-11 National Memorial to make it more fun and appealing to the youth. It’s holy ground. Not in a million years would Arlington Cemetery rent beach chairs with attachable umbrellas to enable tourists to watch the changing of the guard more comfortably.

It’s holy ground, for crying out loud!

In your wildest mind's eye can you ever imagine the sentries wearing flip-flops while on guard duty? It’s holy ground! Would you ever hope to read of a Circuit Court inviting sightseers to live-interactive dialogues with sitting juries while they deliberate because it’s more fun for the jurors that way? The jury room is holy ground. Can you picture the U.S. Supreme Court with suspended flat screens in all chamber corners to demonstrate how nine old judges can be as contemporary as any sports bar?

But unfortunately the church is always so dang-blasted stuffy and traditional. You’d think they’d jettison those robes and give pastors golf shirts and dockers to make them far more approachable. But no. They think they’re holy ground.

You’d think the church would stop depending on plain preaching and begin to integrate the latest technological savvy so parishioners can text questions to the preacher or watch him on a JumboTron. But no. They think they’re holy ground.

What the church needs is a café in the balcony and chairs with coffee cup holders. When will the church begin to phase out rubrics like standing, bowing, kneeling, and processing? Worship leaders are more “real” when they wander. And why call church church? “Worship center” works better. It isn't so …. well, “Biblical.” Church suggests reverence, awe, piety, and, oh yea — holy ground. Can't the Divine Service get a cool name like KidzSpace, Gen-G, or Warehouse? But again no.

Wait a second. I have heard about all those things.

Come to think of it, the holy ground of Arlington, the holy ground of the Supreme Court, the holy grounds of Gettysburg and Ground Zero look, feel, and are preserved to be what they are--sacred.

But somehow the church of Christ doesn’t need to do that? And yet we can still be holy ground?

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“God called to him out of the bush, ‘Moses, Moses!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’ Then he said, ‘Do not come near; take your sandals off your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.’ And he said, ‘I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.’ And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.”

Odd.

God seems to take holy ground awfully seriously.

Hmmm.

Hey, Moses! Walk over and give Him a coffee cup holder.

Drippin' Wet

Exodus 2:1-10

Now a man from the house of Levi went and took as his wife a Levite woman. The woman conceived and bore a son, and when she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him three months. When she could hide him no longer, she took for him a basket made of bulrushes and daubed it with bitumen and pitch. She put the child in it and placed it among the reeds by the river bank. And his sister stood at a distance to know what would be done to him. Now the daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her young women walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her servant woman, and she took it. When she opened it, she saw the child, and behold, the baby was crying. She took pity on him and said, “This is one of the Hebrews' children.” Then his sister said to Pharaoh's daughter, “Shall I go and call you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?” And Pharaoh's daughter said to her, “Go.” So the girl went and called the child's mother. And Pharaoh's daughter said to her, “Take this child away and nurse him for me, and I will give you your wages.” So the woman took the child and nursed him. When the child grew up, she brought him to Pharaoh's daughter, and he became her son. She named him Moses, “Because,” she said, “I drew him out of the water.”

It has been said that the Bible is dripping wet. From the primeval water in the first chapter of Scripture at creation to the river of the water of life in the last chapter of Scripture in paradise, there is water, water everywhere. So often is water also in union with God's saving acts of deliverance.

The Noahic flood corresponds to baptism, the sacrament that saves you. (1 Peter 3:18-22) The crossing of the Red Sea delivered God's people from slavery and death to freedom as they were “baptized … in the sea.” (1 Cor. 10:2) Water flowed in the dessert from the Rock which was Christ, quenching the people’s thirst. (1 Cor. 10:4) Israel passed through water to enter the holy land. Cleansing from sin and idolatry God works through the sprinkling of water (Ezek. 36:25). Jesus ascribes the saving of the woman of Samaria to the water of life (John 4:14) The man who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years is delivered and healed in the pool of Bethesda (John 5:2-9).

Water, water everywhere.

The Nile River was to be the watery grave of Israel’s infant sons. As we have seen recently in the Japanese tsunami, water can be too powerful for a child to withstand. Water can sweep even the strongest and greatest away. But water at God's direction delivers.

Upon the waters of the Nile God gave Moses a tiny ark. Compared to the one constructed by Noah with its massive length of 300 cubits, a width of 50 and height of 30, this small craft of Moses’ was a mere wisp of driftwood. Yet Moses was saved, not on account of the size of the vessel, but due to the mercy of God.

Hiromitsu Shinkawa is a modern day Moses, swept away along with his house ten miles out to sea by the tsunami. There he was found clinging to a fragment of his roof and was rescued, due again to the mercy of God.

I wonder if Pharaoh’s daughter realized just how momentous was the name she bestowed on this castaway upon the waters. She named him Moses because “I drew him out of the water.” The great name of Moses invokes God's deliverance again through water.

We Christians were given our names in association with water, not the water of a tsunami or the water of one of the great rivers of the world like the Nile, but the water of Holy Baptism. That water, baptismal water of itself, is simple water no different than what is used to hose down a nuclear reactor or sprinkle your lawn.

But to this water God has added the Word of His promise, “Baptism now saves you.”

Baptism binds us to Christ, a far greater adoption than that even of Moses who was taken into the palace of a king’s daughter. By our Christian water baptism we are received into the very Kingdom of God. The baptized are united to Christ and his baptism, not only that of the Jordan River but of what Jesus calls his “baptism” of distress, the anguish of Calvary where water again flowed—flowed from the pierced side of our Lord.

He, Jesus Christ, came by water and blood (1 John 5:6), the testimony of Jesus’ baptism and crucifixion which reveal the love of God for the salvation of the world.

By water we are saved. In Luther’s Flood Prayer we confess, “Through the Baptism in the Jordan of Your beloved Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, You sanctified and instituted all waters to be a blessed flood and a lavish washing away of sin.” That water by which we were given the new birth is a rescue and deliverance reminiscent of Moses, yet greater even than his.

So, if ever someone belittles your faith in Holy Baptism, or calls it only a sign of your obedience to God rather than God's actual rescue of you—calling you “all wet” for your faith in this water and Word, take it as a tribute and praise God that you are — drippin’ wet.