Words That Have to Be Spoken
Sermon for Holy Thursday
April 2nd, A+D 2026
Job 1:13-19
and 32:11-22, Mark 14:12-31
Audio of Sermon available HERE.
There are words that have to be
spoken. Sometimes they are nearly
impossible for us to actually say out loud; nevertheless, there are words that have
to be spoken. Our cell phones make it
possible to communicate with each other at any time, almost no matter where in
the world we are, which means that we do less and less communicating face to
face. But we still know instinctively
that some news, big, momentous news, should be communicated in person, face to
face.
On the bright side, the beauty and hope
that can still brighten our days are experienced most intensely when we get to
deliver wonderful news: “You got the job!”
“Your child has been delivered safely, and your wife is doing fine!” “Mom, Dad, we are getting married!” Words lead to hugs and laughter, maybe even
tears of joy.
On the dark side, the broken-ness of this fallen world rings out most clearly when we have to break tragic news, share heart-breaking information. “The fire destroyed everything.” “Dad had a heart attack and he didn’t make it.” Hugs may still come, and tears. We don’t like being such a messenger, but sometimes there are words that have to be spoken.
Four un-named servants of Job were
selected by survival to speak necessary words to their master. Bitter news of enemy attacks, deadly fire
from the sky, lost servants, lost flocks and herds. The fourth messenger starts out with hopeful
words, “Your sons and daughters were eating and drinking wine in their
oldest brother's house…”
Let’s pause there for a moment. What a wonderful thing. From earlier in chapter one we know that Papa
Job worried about his children’s gatherings, offering sacrifices for them, for
sins they might have committed. But
still, how great would it be to have ten adult children who get along so well
that they regularly host each other for meals?
We are all still sinners, even sitting around Grandma’s table. But time spent breaking bread and sharing
wine together can forge bonds and deepen affection like nothing else.
Alas, the fourth messenger has more words
that have to be spoken: “and behold,
a great wind came across the wilderness and struck the four corners of the
house, and it fell upon the young people, and they are dead, and I alone have
escaped to tell you.”
So begins Job’s trial by unexplained
suffering. And soon enough, after more
suffering and a seven day silence, thousands of words that do not need to be
spoken pour forth. Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar,
Job’s wordy friends, make speeches, responding to Job’s complaint. You see, Job demands an explanation, a hearing
with the LORD, to be told why he suffers.
His three friends reply with false accusation after false accusation,
certain that Job is hiding the truth.
They are sure there is some deep, dark sin that Job refuses to speak out
loud, a hidden fault that is the true cause of his tribulations. These words did not need to be spoken.
Finally, after thirty chapters of fruitless
argument, a fourth friend speaks up, a younger man who was keeping quiet in the
presence of his elders. Finally, Elihu
has some words that have to be spoken.
To the three friends he says, “Behold, I waited for your
words, I listened for your wise sayings, while you searched out what to
say.. 2 I gave
you my attention, and, behold, there was none among you who refuted Job or who
answered his words… 17[Now],
I also will answer with my share; I also will declare my
opinion. 18 For I
am full of words; the spirit within me constrains me. 19 Behold, my belly is
like wine that has no vent; like new wineskins ready to burst. 20 I must speak, that
I may find relief; I must open my lips and answer.
You are all wrong. This is Elihu’s message in a nutshell. Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar make false
accusations against Job, and cannot rightly respond to him. Job for his part is presumptuous toward God, demanding
that all things be explained to his satisfaction. “Job opens his mouth in empty talk;" proclaims Elihu, "he multiplies
words without knowledge.” Elihu
suggests all four of them would do better to keep silent.
Bad news tends to take away our appetite.
We forget or we refuse to eat. But
eventually, the way the LORD has created us means that we will need to
eat. Tragic news knocks us sideways, we
weep and console one another. But
eventually someone digs in the fridge to make sandwiches, or orders pizza. Neighbors hear the bad news and bring
meals. Friends and family come from long
distances to sing final farewells at a funeral, and the congregation provides a
luncheon, a time to refresh the body, and also the soul, as good times with the
dearly departed are remembered over the meal.
Jesus knows our frame. He knows what it is to hear bad news and shed
tears. He also knows that we have to
eat. And so, as He drew near to His own
Cross, where He would accomplish the final solution to the problem of
suffering, He also shared a meal with His disciples. He instituted the Meal that ties together our
need and His solution.
But first, there are more words that have
to be spoken, some harsh, but true and necessary. Others mysterious, and full of blessing. “Truly, I say to you, one of you will
betray me, one who is eating with me.”
Jesus reveals the doubt and confusion in the hearts of all His
disciples, as one after another they replied, “Is it I?” Don’t you think you’d know if you were the
one? And yet, they all ask.
Jesus also rejects Peter’s confidence and
high opinion of himself. Jesus said to them, "You will all fall away, for it is
written, 'I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.' But after I am raised up, I will go before
you to Galilee." Peter, offended at this word, missed the
promise of the resurrection. Instead of
asking about that, Peter proudly protests, “Even though they
all fall away, I will not.” And Jesus said to him, “Truly, I tell you, this
very night, before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times.”
Like Job and his three friends, the
disciples’ words are not getting them anywhere.
Indeed, for three days they would be lost in confusion, fear and sadness. But, in the midst of all His damning words,
Jesus has more words that have to be said, words which, in the light of the
Resurrection, would become central to the life of the Church His disciples
would build. For, as they were eating, [Jesus]
took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to them, and said,
"Take; this is my body." And
he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, and they all
drank of it. And he said to them,
"This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many.”
Matthew, Luke and St. Paul, in their
respective tellings of the same moment, add wonderful specifics, like, “This
is my body, which is given for you.” “This
cup is the New Testament in my Blood, shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.” “This do, as often as you drink it, in
remembrance of me.” And, “When
you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death, until He
comes.”
These promise-filled words had to be
spoken, for the disciples’ sake, for our sake, for the life of the world. These prophecy-fulfilling words had to be
spoken, because the LORD had promised to send a Savior, a Champion who would undo
the destructive work of Satan. Many
times the LORD repeated His promise to send a Savior, Who would redeem a people
for God’s own eternal pleasure. Now that
this salvation was at hand, the comforting words instituting the Holy Supper
had to be spoken, so they could be repeated, again and again. By these words, there is restoration and
joy. Because, until Jesus returns
visibly on the Last Day, all who suffer can find strength to endure, and hope
for eternity, at the family dinner table of God.
Jesus has spoken these words, for us and
for our salvation. Let us draw near
then, confessing our sins, our need, our suffering, and let us receive the
Word, the Promise, the sufficiency of Christ, which is Himself and His
forgiving love, in with and under the bread and the wine, Amen.
