God's Promise of Jesus: Being Made New

In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:

‘Prepare the way of the Lord,

    make his paths straight.’”

Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.

But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

“I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” 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. 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. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Matthew 3:1-17 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from the Triune God: Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. Amen.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this week about water. As I was thinking about our worship on this day known as the Baptism of Our Lord, my mind began to wander as I was thinking about water.

When you think of water, what comes to mind for you? There are a few things for me. One of them is a memory from my childhood, when I was about seven years old. My dad loved to fish. So, on weekends, when the farm work was finished for the week, we’d travel as family to one of two rivers nearby. If we went an hour or so east, we’d run into the Missouri River - a river that was particularly known for its walleye. If we went a little northwest, we’d come to the Grand River. This was a muddier river and, because of it, was known for its catfish.

It was on one of these fishing trips that we were accompanied by two of my great uncles - Philip and John.

Now, I’m sure you can’t imagine this, but I was kind of a little brat growing up. I was the youngest, a little spoiled, and was kind of sneaky. On this particular fishing trip, I was in pretty rare form. As my dad and my two great uncles stood on the riverbank, casting for catfish, I decided it was my job that day to pester the heck out of them. I decided I would sneak up behind them and pour a small bucket of water on each of them.

Well, this only lasted a few times before my great uncles had had enough of me. The next time I began to sneak up on one of them, they were fully prepared. My Uncle John grabbed me. Then, my Uncle Philip grabbed me. They picked me up, one holding me under my arms and the other holding my feet. They started to swing me back and forth and, then, on the count of three, they promptly threw me in the river.

Now, fortunately, the Grand River was a pretty shallow river. It was more like a creek. And I knew how to swim, so there really wasn’t any danger involved. But, it is an experience I have never forgotten. The water was cold. I was fully clothed and got soaking wet. And I spent the rest of the day, somewhat uncomfortable in my damp clothing. (It was still worth it, though!)

For us, as children, water was something that fun to play in, especially during the warm days of summer. But, for my father, who was a rancher and a farmer, water meant a lot more. We lived in an area that didn’t have irrigation, so the feed crops my father grew were completely reliant upon the weather. 

Water was critical for our animals. There were many times that my father would have to go down to our creek in the winter and break through the ice so that they were able to drink. In the summer, he or my brother were constantly repairing the windmills that pumped water from the ground into big tanks for our livestock to drink. Our family’s livelihood was critically dependent upon water.

In our more urbanized lifestyle today, we rarely have to think about water or its availability. We just turn on the shower and it’s there. Or open the refrigerator door and grab a bottle to drink. And, here, in Louisville, where, last year, we experienced the wettest one on record, we’re almost mindless in how we use water. 

Today’s story is set near water. The Jordan River. It’s where our story opens as we introduced to John the Baptist. Some 30 years has passed between our story last week about Herod and the flight of Joseph and his family to Egypt to escape. Matthew describes him as a voice crying out of the wilderness. He occupies a place on the margins. On the margin of Jerusalem. On the margin of this center of power - this city that is the cultural, religious and political center of Judah. And, yet, even though he is on the margins, John’s ministry draws people out from the city and from the surrounding areas.  Large crowds, our text tells us. So large that John is referenced in all four of the Gospels. And even by Josephus, a Jewish historian from the time. 

Our story today tells us that these large crowds included Pharisees and Sadducees, two groups in opposition to each other in Jerusalem. Each fighting for power in Jerusalem. It’s no wonder that John calls them “You brood of vipers.” It's the start of a conflict that begins with John and, as we move through our Matthew text, we’ll see that it continues with Jesus. Our story also begins to show us a difference in the ministries of John and Jesus. John, who’s ministry is removed from the central location of the powerful elite. Jesus, who’s ministry begins on the margins, but will move into the centers of power, bringing challenge and conflict.

There is one thing, though, in today’s story the connects everything. It is the water. Or, more specifically, the water of baptism. 


Last September, we began our lectionary cycle with the story of Noah and the great flood. This is often called the second creation story. God’s reboot of creation. When water was used to cleanse a world that had become so very evil. A way for God to start over with a human creation to whom God had given free will. A human creation that, even after the flood, consistently seemed to separate itself from God and seek power for itself. 

How interesting it is that God then uses this same, simple element of water and with God’s Word claims us as God’s own. In baptism. Where, with the water and the Word, we are washed clean through the power of Christ’s cleansing death. Claimed, just as Jesus was claimed, as God’s beloved ones. God’s own. In whom God finds happiness. This is the power of our baptism. The power of the water with God’s Word. As Luther writes, “Baptism is an external sign...which so separates us from the world [so that]...now baptized we are thereby known as a people of Christ.” 

He speaks of the threefold aspects of our baptisms: the sign, its significance, and of faith. That the sign consists of the physical thrusting into water in the name of the Triune God--Father, Son and Holy Spirit. But, particularly, that we are not left there, but are drawn out again. He uses a German expression: aus der Taufe gehoben, which means that we are "lifted up" out of the baptismal water. 

This is the second aspect of our baptisms, then. The significance of our baptisms. That it is a dying to sin and resurrection in God’s grace. Where our old person - our old sinful person - is drowned. And a new person, born in grace, comes forth and arises. It is a washing of regeneration. A being made new. This significance, though, Luther writes, is not completely fulfilled in this life. Our spiritual baptisms, the complete drowning of sin, last as long as we live and are completed only in death. We give ourselves up to the sacrament of baptism, claiming our desire to die, together with our sins, and to be made new. God accepts this desire and grants us baptism. And, from that hour, begins to make us new people, by pouring into us God’s grace through the Holy Spirit. 

That, then, leads us to the third aspect of baptism: faith. Faith means that we firmly believe all of this. That we believe that, with our baptism, we have entered into a covenant with God to fight against sin and to slay it, while God promises to be merciful to us, to deal graciously with us, and to not judge us with severity. Luther writes that this faith is the most necessary aspect because it is the ground of our comfort. Philip Britts, who was a British writer and poet, pastor and naturalist from 70 years go, writes that “Faith is like water at the roots...If we have faith, we can face the sun, we can turn the heat and the light into life-giving fruits, into love...Faith is a gift like the rain and, like the rain, it is something to be watched for and prayed for and waited for.” 

This is baptism, then. Christ the water, incarnating God’s water of creation, flowing continuously in the Spirit, who waters the believers, who, then, themselves, become the spring of living water in the world.

In the water of baptism, with God’s Word, we are made new. So walk wet. Remember your baptism. Remember that God has created you for God’s purposes. It is God and not sin that holds a claim on your life. 

In your bulletin, you have a small piece of paper. I invite you now to reflect upon an area of your life that requires renewal, repentance, or a new beginning. Pray about this in silent confession. Write or draw something on your paper to symbolize it. And, then, when you are ready, come to the font and submerge your paper in the water and watch it dissolve. And give thanks to God for the chance to begin again. To, once again, be made new. Amen.

Preached January 13, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Epiphany 1
Readings: Matthew 3:1-17, Psalm 2:7-8

Love Changes Us

Jacob left Beer-sheba and went toward Haran. He came to a certain place and stayed there for the night, because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones of the place, he put it under his head and lay down in that place. And he dreamed that there was a ladder set up on the earth, the top of it reaching to heaven; and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. And the Lord stood beside him and said, “I am the Lord, the God of Abraham your father and the God of Isaac; the land on which you lie I will give to you and to your offspring; and your offspring shall be like the dust of the earth, and you shall spread abroad to the west and to the east and to the north and to the south; and all the families of the earth shall be blessed in you and in your offspring. Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” Then Jacob woke from his sleep and said, “Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it!” And he was afraid, and said, “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.”

So Jacob rose early in the morning, and he took the stone that he had put under his head and set it up for a pillar and poured oil on the top of it. He called that place Bethel.  Genesis 28:10-19a (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from God, our Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

The story of Jacob continues this week. You remember Jacob from last week, don’t you? Son of Isaac, grandson of Abraham. Jacob. That trickster. A cheater. The one whose name, literally, translates “heel.” 

Last week, we heard the story of how Jacob tricked his brother Esau out of both the birthright and the blessing to which he, as the oldest son, would have been entitled. The birthright, which would have given Esau double the inheritance of Jacob. And the blessing from God--you remember it, don’t you? The same promise given to both Abraham and Isaac--that God would give them their own land, would make them into a great nation, and would bless them so that they might be a blessing to others.

Both of these--the birthright and the blessing--stolen by Jacob from Esau.

One can only imagine how angry Esau must have been at his brother. In the verses that precede today’s story, we read that Esau said to himself, “When the period of mourning for the death of my father is over, I will kill my brother.” Esau was so angry that he plotted to murder Jacob, his own brother, after the death of their father Isaac.  

Somehow, Rebekah, their mother, got wind of Esau’s plans. And so, she called for Jacob--her youngest and her favorite.  She told him of Esau’s plan. She told him he needed to leave. That he needed to go to Haran--back to Mesopotamia, the land from which Abraham had traveled at the very beginning of all of these stories. Rebekah told Jacob to go to Haran and to live with her brother, Laban, for a short while. For, literally, just a few days. Until Esau’s anger might dissipate and his murderous plans might, perhaps, be set aside.

So Jacob left. Quickly. Leaving his mother and father and his own homeland with his life. He traveled all alone. Vulnerable. Sleeping under the stars at night. Day after day, traveling far, retracing the steps of his grandfather, Abraham. All alone. Running away from his past and what lay behind and forward into his future, uncertain of what would lay before him.

It was on one of these lonely nights under the stars out in the open, perhaps in one of his most vulnerable moments, that God appeared to Jacob in a dream and spoke to him for the first time. Calling himself “Yahweh,” translated “the Lord,” God describes himself as the God of Abraham and Isaac. Notice that God does not call himself the God of Jacob. Not yet.

It is in this dream that God makes himself known to Jacob. This God who has a history with Jacob’s family. Who has made himself known through these relationships. As he speaks, God gives Jacob the same family promise. The one given to Abraham and to Isaac. The promise of land. The promise of offspring. And the promise of blessing. 

And, then, God goes one step further. In verse 15 of our text today, we read God’s additional promise to Jacob: “I am with you and will keep you wherever you go. I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.

“I am with you.” Jacob is the first of many more, including Moses and Joshua, to hear this promise of “God with us.” Emmanuel. God with us. The promise of God’s continuing presence with God’s people.

A promise first given to Jacob, who has cheated his brother. And deceived his father. And who is now running for his life. Do you hear the grace in this promise of God? Do you hear the love? 

Jacob’s reaction to this revelation of God is mixed.

He does acknowledge the holiness of the moment and of the place. This place where he has first experienced God’s presence. He marks it. By setting up a pillar of rock and by naming it. Beth-El. Meaning “the house of God.” The place where he has experienced God in all of God’s fullness. A place of awe. A holy place.

Jacob recognizes this moment of awe and holiness. And, yet, he cannot yet fully seem to grasp the magnitude of God’s love and grace. And so, he bargains and wrestles with God. Just as has bargained and wrestled with everyone in his life so far, Jacob negotiates with God. It doesn’t matter that this god is the God of his ancestors. Jacob will claim him if and only if God protects and prospers him.

“IF God is with me, and IF God protects me, and IF I am able to safely return home, then Yahweh--the Lord--will be my God.” Do you hear the conditions that Jacob is placing upon God? The “if...then” that is part of Jacob’s bargain with God?

How often do we do that? Bargain with God. “God, if you heal me from this disease or this illness, then I will be more faithful.” Or “God, if you save me in this storm, then I promise to put you first in my life.” Oh, the conditions we place upon God. Just. Like. Jacob. 

Perhaps that is why it is so important for us to hear these stories of the patriarchs. Not to hear of their greatness and of their deep faith. But, to hear of their weakness. It's as Luther writes in his commentary on this very chapter in Genesis, “...it pleases me greatly and is saving for us to hear of the weaknesses of the saints, for these examples of weakness are more necessary for us and bring more consolation than the examples of that heroic and very great fortitude, and other virtues.” 

These saints are weak. Just as we are weak.

But, ultimately, this story isn’t about us. Or about what we should do. Or what we shouldn’t do. This story isn’t even really about Jacob..

This story is about God. And about what God has already done. We’ve seen and heard it as we’ve read these stories in Genesis. How God has made and fulfilled promises to Abraham. How God has made and fulfilled promises to Isaac. And, now, how God is making promises to Jacob. Overwhelmingly gracious promises to Jacob. A cheat. A trickster. A heel. At his most vulnerable moment, as he is running away in fear for his life, from troubles of his own making. In the midst of this. God makes promises to Jacob.

We will see in the next two weeks how God fulfills these promises to Jacob. Just as God did with Abraham. And with Isaac.

It is worth noting the effect of God’s promises on Jacob. The effect of God’s graciousness. The effect of God’s love. It changes Jacob. Self-centered, scheming Jacob. 

Twenty years later, Jacob will return home from Haran, accompanied by his family and his flocks and herds. As he prepares to enter Canaan and to meet Esau after all these years, Jacob prays to God. This time, though, he doesn’t bargain with God. He acknowledges his own unworthiness and God’s faithfulness. Even as he reminds God of God’s promises. There is no “if...then” in his prayer twenty years later. There is only a “because...therefore.” “Because you, God, are faithful, because you have made these promises...therefore I am trusting you to help me now.”

The change isn’t Jacob’s doing. The change is God’s doing. Jacob is changed from a shallow and selfish young man into a man who founds a nation and who, on his deathbed, claims the God before whom his ancestors Abraham and Isaac walked and who has been his shepherd all his life. God’s grace has changed Jacob. God’s love has changed Jacob. 

From that moment on in Jacob’s story, God will begin to identify as “The Lord...the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.”

Jacob’s story is our story, too. Transformed by the grace of God in Jesus Christ. Transformed by God’s faithfulness. We are changed. By God’s love.

And, we, like Jacob, are claimed by God. The God of Abraham. The God of Isaac. The God of Jacob. The God who has claimed us and who has claimed all people. Everywhere. 

Claimed, changed, saved. For this, we give God our thanks and praise. Amen.

Preached July 23, 2017, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
Readings: Genesis 28:10-19a; Psalm 139:1-12, 23-24; Romans 8:12-25; Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43.

Claimed

There was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a Jewish leader. He came to Jesus at night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God, for no one could do these miraculous signs that you do unless God is with him.”

Jesus answered, “I assure you, unless someone is born anew, it’s not possible to see God’s kingdom.”

Nicodemus asked, “How is it possible for an adult to be born? It’s impossible to enter the mother’s womb for a second time and be born, isn’t it?”

Jesus answered, “I assure you, unless someone is born of water and the Spirit, it’s not possible to enter God’s kingdom. Whatever is born of the flesh is flesh, and whatever is born of the Spirit is spirit. Don’t be surprised that I said to you, ‘You must be born anew.’ God’s Spirit blows wherever it wishes. You hear its sound, but you don’t know where it comes from or where it is going. It’s the same with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

Nicodemus said, “How are these things possible?”

“Jesus answered, “You are a teacher of Israel and you don’t know these things? I assure you that we speak about what we know and testify about what we have seen, but you don’t receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you don’t believe, how will you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has gone up to heaven except the one who came down from heaven, the Human One. Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so must the Human One be lifted up so that everyone who believes in him will have eternal life. God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him won’t perish but will have eternal life. God didn’t send his Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through him.  -John 3:1-17 (CEB)

Grace and peace to you from God, our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

I love ritual. That sounds pretty boring, doesn’t it? But, I admit it. I love ritual. I’m a creature of habit.  Whether it’s my morning ritual that begins each day, hopefully, with a cup of coffee, or whether it’s our weekly pattern of worship, our ritual, that follows the order of the mass that comes down to us from the early church--whatever the ritual, I love it.

So, it’s probably no wonder that, in seminary, my favorite courses were those about the rituals of the church, especially those of the early church. For me, studying them has helped me better understand many of the rituals that we follow today--nearly all of which came out of the early church. Studying them also gives me a deeper understanding of Scripture and the beliefs of the early church, beliefs that arose out of the Hebrew scriptures and those, written by the apostles, that we call the New Testament.  

Last week, we began over these 40 days of Lent to take a look at our our ritual of baptism. We began to look at it, thinking that, if we better understand the promises made in this ritual, we might better become the baptismal people we profess to be. That we might better become the story we tell. 

We began last week with the three renunciations. Those three questions asked of every baptismal candidate--questions that we still ask today. Do you renounce the devil? Do you renounce the ways of the world? Do you renounce the ways of sin?

In the early church, before these three renunciations, the candidates would have been stripped of all clothing. Stripped of their jewelry. Stripped away of anything that might suggest their former life. They would then be led naked, down into the water. Into a river or a moving stream. It was here, waste-deep in water, that they would be turned to face west. West. The place of the setting sun. Of the beginning of darkness. Of night. Or, symbolically, the place of unbelief.

Facing west, they would speak the three renunciations, declaring their intent to renounce all those things that separate us from God. Then, the priest would blow three times into each candidate’s nostrils. This blowing or breath was a ritual intended to signify the coming of the Spirit. The in-breathing of the Holy Spirit. The entry of the breath of God. 

Next, although there are some variations in the early rituals, the candidates would then be anointed on the forehead and the chest with oil--an “Oil of Catechumens.” This anointing symbolized the need of each person for the help and strength of God to sever the bondage of the past and to overcome the opposition of the devil and the powers of darkness so that they might profess their faith, come to baptism, and be claimed as a child of God. 

Once this anointing with oil was concluded, the candidates were, once again, asked three questions. These questions, though, were unlike the previous renunciations. This time, the questions were about beliefs. They are the same questions we ask today.

“Do you believe in God the Father?”
“Do you believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God?”
“Do you believe in God the Holy Spirit?”

Do you believe? 

Believing. That’s the point of our Gospel text today. The reason Nicodemus came to Jesus at night. In the dark. In unbelief. Seeking to believe.

Oh, perhaps, Nicodemus was on his way to believing. After all, he and the others had witnessed the signs--the miracles--Jesus did. And, they had decided that no one could do this things unless they were of God.

But seeing the signs is not enough. The kingdom of God can’t be seen with physical eyes. Rather it is a reality that can only be perceived through the eyes of the Spirit, after a person has been born “anew” or “from above.” The kingdom of God can only be seen by those who have experienced a spiritual rebirth. Who have been “born again.”

Now, being “born again” is not a re-commitment. It isn’t a decision we make once we’re past the age of consent. 

To be “born again” or to be “born from above” is a spiritual rebirth that is worked in us by God through the power of the Holy Spirit. It is a spiritual rebirth into the family of God, where, just like a child, we recognize that our entire existence depends upon God. That we are fully dependent upon and trust in God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. For everything we need. 

To be “born again” is to recognize that there is nothing we do to receive this new birth--that it is a call from God through the Holy Spirit to enter into full relationship with God. To come into the full presence of God and to find wholeness and new life.

To be “born again” is to know that God’s desire is that the whole world would come to be saved, to gain eternal life. God’s desire is not to judge the world, but to save the world. 

And to be “born again” is to know that in our baptism and every Sunday when we say the words of the Creed, “I believe,” we are saying that we trust. We trust in God the Father Almighty. We trust in Jesus Christ. We trust in the Holy Spirit. We trust. And, in trusting, we are doing much, much more than simply consenting to a belief in a particular Christian doctrine. We are giving witness of this relationship with God to the entire world.

That’s what Jesus was offering Nicodemus--to come into the same relationship and to exist in the presence of God. But, eventually, he did. And eventually it was he, along with others, who anointed and buried the body of Christ after his death on the cross.

Last week, I sent you home with a wilderness stone. It was something to keep in your pocket during the week to remind you that, when you are tested, Jesus has passed the test for you. 

This week, as we leave worship, I will be giving you a small bottle of anointing oil. May you use this during the week, perhaps by marking the sign of the cross on your forehead or by anointing your hands in service. May this be, as it was in the baptismal rituals of the early church--may this be a reminder to you that in your own rebirth, God has claimed you.  Claimed you to be God’s own child, claimed you to be in full relationship with God, and claimed you to be given new life in God’s kingdom. Forever and ever.

This is what we believe. This is what we trust.

Amen.

Preached at Grace and Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Second Sunday in Lent.
Readings: Genesis 12:1-4a; Psalm 121; Romans 4:1-5, 13-17; John 3:1-17.