Breathe - Sermon for the 2nd Sunday of Easter

Second Sunday of Easter
April 27^th, Year of Our + Lord 2025
Our Redeemer and Our Savior’s Lutheran Churches
Custer and Hill City, South Dakota

Breathe - John 20:19-31

Sermon Audio available HERE.

    Breathe.  A breath out, then a breath in.  This is where it begins, and where it always must return.  Just breathe. 

   When God created the man and the woman in His image and likeness, life began with a breath.  God formed the dusty clay into the shape of the man, the “adam.”  Then the Lord God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and Adam became a living being.  Sculpture, mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, anesthesia and surgery can all find their roots in the creation of the man and the woman. 

   The Genesis chapter two detail of how God made Adam and Eve is remarkably personal, intimate.  Enough to make a German heritage Eastern Montana boy pretty uncomfortable.  

But this is the God we have, the God who loves humanity, who wants to live in close communion with us, despite how we are. 

   After God put Adam into a deep sleep and took his rib to form for him a suitable partner, Genesis doesn’t say that God breathed life into the woman.  But there is no human life without breath, so it’s not unreasonable to think that Eve also received the divine respiration.  A breath out, from God, a breath in, by a human: that’s the start.  Then a breath out, and a breath in, again and again, and forever and ever.  That was the plan. 

   Our first parents ruined the simplest path to the perfection of God’s eternal plan.  But in the Upper Room on the evening of the Resurrection, we discover that God still has the same plan, the same idea about sharing His eternal breath, a plan now perfected and shared by Jesus. 

   Breathing isn’t something we usually pay attention to.  This absolutely necessary process is usually unthinking, automatic: breath in, breath out, totally routine.  Routine, until it’s not.  If an emergency or a desire for athletic accomplishment causes you to run to your max, your breath quickly becomes all you can think about.  When stress winds you tighter and tighter, threatening to overwhelm you, your friends encourage you to calm your nerves, by taking some deep breaths.  Breathing exercises abound that promise to help you fall asleep, or allow you to clear your mind. 

   And occasionally we experience the truth that without breath, there is no life.  My father almost died as a teenager, rescuing a younger kid who was drowning in a stock reservoir.  The closest I’ve come to suffocating was when a bully held me underwater in the city pool in Forsyth, Montana.  How about you?  Maybe you’ve helped fight a wildfire, and found yourself suddenly surrounded by smoke and flames, gasping for air.  The original version of COVID-19 took many souls through terrifying fights for breath, fights which too many lost.  The list of diseases that rob us of our respiration is too long to recount.   

    And then there is the respiration-stopping power of sin.  Guilt for sin and the damage it causes can sit on your chest like an anvil.  Fear of the consequences, fear of exposure, can leave you gasping.  Spiritual suffocation is not the same thing as physical, but it’s also not entirely different.  The same Lord God who made our physical bodies also created our souls, and the brokenness of sin affects them both. 

   Just one bit of evidence to make the case: Speaking happens when we pass air over our voice box, and shape the escaping breath with our mouth.  There is no speaking without breathing.  And what is the hardest thing to do when you have done something wrong, something cruel, something sinful?  Often, the hardest thing for any person who still has some trace of conscience left is to admit out loud what you have done.  To speak out loud the truth about our sin, to confess our specific guilt, is so painful.  We don’t want to breathe a word of what we have done.  And so we see the physical and the spiritual intertwine. 

   How stale and stuffy was the air in the Upper Room, as the disciples hid, fearing God and man?  They had just endured the worst three days ever.  Seventy-two hours earlier, Jesus had hosted that strange Passover meal.  Their feet washed by their Master.  Long discourses about the Father and the Spirit, and suffering, and mansions in the sky.  The mysterious will of God that is fulfilled in suffering.  And of course, the transformation of the Passover meal itself.  This bread is my Body, said Jesus, given for you.  Eat it.  This cup is the New Testament in My blood, shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.  Take it, and drink. 

   Then to the Garden, the agonizing prayers, and the arrest.  Was this the moment, the moment for us to join Jesus in fighting against evil?  “No, put away your swords.”  Our hero Jesus was submitting to evil.  That was too much.  We ran, we all ran, until our breath left us. 

   Friday.  Sham trials.  And our shame, as we could not muster the courage to speak up for Jesus.  They crucified Him!  We watched Him die.  We even fell short of the task of caring for His body.  A Council Elder and a Pharisee, they buried Jesus.  We, His chosen disciples, we hid.   

   Now, after the darkest, longest Sabbath ever, we hear reports.  The women say He is not in the tomb, even that He is alive.  Peter and John run to the tomb.  Peter later says he has seen the Lord; but can we trust that Peter isn’t hallucinating?  What is going on?  What will the Council do next?  Will they come for us? 

   And so the Eleven are in the Upper Room, hiding, still mourning, the door barred from the inside for fear of the Jews.  For fear of ending up on a cross, like Jesus.  No one wants to die on a cross.  So shameful, so painful.   Death on a Roman cross normally comes by suffocation.  The execution squad stretches you out and nails you to the wood by your hands and feet.  To breathe, you must press up on your feet and stand straight.  But that is excruciating.  Literally.  Eventually, maybe after many hours, even days, your strength gives out.  You can no longer stand to breathe, and so…

   But not Jesus.  Despite all appearances, despite being nailed to a Roman cross, He was in control.  From the Cross, Jesus continued to pray, to speak words of grace, to care for His mother, even to make promises to one the thieves crucified next to Him.  And then, around three in the afternoon, Jesus gave up His Spirit.  He breathed His last, and took on the final enemy, on His terms. 

   Satan and fallen humanity had done their worst.  Even more, the Father’s righteous anger against sinful humanity was, in an invisible mystery, poured out, expiated, totally expended, on Jesus.  Then, our last enemy, that moment when human beings stop breathing, then death came.  But only when Jesus said so.  Jesus’ death was strange, otherworldly; even the Roman execution squad said so. 

   Nevertheless, the Eleven had seen Jesus with their own eyes, seen Him hanging there, breathless, dead, water and blood flowing mingled down from His pierced side.  So yes, there are some strange reports on this first day of the week.  But these reports cannot overcome the image burned in their memories.  They saw Jesus hanging there, without breath.  He was laid in a cold dark tomb.  His story is over, and the Eleven fear their stories may soon end the same way. 

   So the Eleven, well, ten of the Eleven, are hiding, locked in a stuffy, dark room.  Did they hear each other breathing?  Did Thomas volunteer for whatever errand took him away, just to escape the atmosphere?  How long could they survive, breathing that defeated, cursed air?   

   Into the suffocating fear of that Upper Room came the Risen Jesus.  Jesus came, speaking words of Peace.  The rebellion started by Adam is over.  In Christ Jesus His Son, God the Father is no longer at war with mankind.  The risen Jesus came into the room, despite the barred door.  He came, speaking peace, and giving new breath.  He breathed on His disciples.  The same God who breathed life into Adam all those thousands of years before, now breathes new life into these ten sons of Adam, converting them into newborn sons of the Most High, giving them the breath of life that lasts forever, even beyond our last earthly breath.   

   And what’s the point of that breath?  In a word, the point of Jesus’ breathing into the disciples is God’s mission of forgiveness and new life.  Once they got over their shock at seeing Him, Jesus repeats His opening line: "Peace be with you.”  The war between man and God being over, Jesus commissions them as Apostles, sent to build His Church.  “As the Father has sent me,” said Jesus, “even so I am sending you."  And when He had said this, He breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit.  If you forgive the sins of anyone, they are forgiven; if you withhold forgiveness from anyone, it is withheld."

   Because God is love, because Jesus poured out the love of His Father on the Cross, now God’s creating breath is also His forgiving breath.  Martin Luther famously encourages us that, when we wash our faces, we should remember our Baptisms.  Good advice.  And the same can also be said of our respiration.  When you breathe in, and breathe out, remember that, along with the Eleven, you are forgiven.  You are restored to peace with God, through the resurrection of Jesus.  Breathe in this Good News.  

   Remember that breathing in the Good News, the Gospel, involves more than your lungs.  Indeed, while you need to be breathing while you take it in, you don’t breathe in the Gospel through your lungs, but rather through your ears.  The Holy Spirit whom Jesus breathed into His disciples that Resurrection night has bound Himself to a very concrete reality; we know where to go to find Him:  in His Word.  The Almighty miracle-working God who revealed Himself to us in Jesus Christ does His best work through human speech.  Words on a page, read out loud by sinners like you and me, this is the breath of God for you, and for me, and for the whole world. 

We can remember our Baptisms when we wash our faces; we can remember Christ’s forgiveness with every breath we take, but only if we continue filling our ears and our hearts with the Truth of God’s Word. 

   And then, after we have breathed in deeply, we will have to breathe out.  Again, the physical and the spiritual overlap.  When we take a deep breath, … we will eventually have to let it out, in order to take in another.  So also, as we breathe in God’s living and active word through our ears, as it enlivens the lungs of our soul, we will have to breathe out.  Breathe out God’s Word, in prayer and praise.  God is your Father, and He loves to have conversations with His children.  We see this in the first two words of the prayer Jesus taught us: Our Father… Breathe in, and breathe out, in conversation with your Abba Father.  And, the more we breathe in God’s Word, the more we will see the truth of His forgiving love, on every page.   

   Breathe in conversation with God, and also breathe on each other.  Life as a Christian in this sinful world, life as a child of God who still struggles each day with sin, this life is not always as easy and pleasant as a warm spring breeze.  So we should really help each other out, by speaking more Words of Truth, Words of Christian encouragement, to one another.  Perhaps using psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, and simple truths about Jesus that you learned in Sunday School. 

   Speak simple truths to each other, like “Jesus loves you, this you know, for the Bible tells you so.”  “God is love, and He poured out His love for sinners, on the Cross.”  “God’s law is good and right and worth following.”  “Jesus is the Way, and the Truth and the Life, no one comes to the Father, except through Him.”  “If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive our sins.”  And, of course, “Christ is Risen!  He is Risen Indeed, Alleluia!” 

   As we develop the blessed habit of breathing God’s Word on each other, within the Church, within the Body of Christ, we will also find it easier to let it spread beyond, to exhale the breath of life on other souls for whom Jesus died and rose, souls who have forgotten, or have never known His forgiving breath.  God will even from time to time give you a front row seat, to watch His ongoing work of salvation, extending His refreshing breath to more souls, drawing them near, to breath God’s good air, beside you and me.        

   We see this dynamic with Thomas.  We also see that it takes time, and that finally the decisive work belongs to God.  The other ten disciples breathed on Thomas, they told him what they had seen.  But Thomas had seen Jesus hanging, dead on the Cross.  Thomas needed more, more proof, more divine breath.  So, like He did for the others Resurrection evening, Jesus did for Thomas, eight days later.  “Here Thomas, see my hands, touch my side, it is I.  Stop doubting, and believe.”    

   My Lord and My God.  Your Lord and Your God.  Blessed are you, says Jesus, for you have not seen, and yet you believe in the resurrected Christ.  Blessed are you, for you have peace with God by the forgiveness of all your sins.  Blessed are you, because Christ has breathed into you, through the Word that Thomas and the others proclaimed to the ends of the earth. 

   Breathe in, breathe out, and rejoice, in Jesus’ Name, Amen.   

The Light of Life - Sermon for the Resurrection of Our + Lord

The Resurrection of Our + Lord
April 20th, Year of Our + Lord 2025
Our Redeemer and Our Savior’s Lutheran Churches
Custer and Hill City, South Dakota
The Light of Life: Luke 24:1-12

Christ is Risen! He is Risen Indeed, Alleluia!

   On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb.  They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus.  

   Very early in the morning.  Literally, in the early morning deepness, the deepness of the dawn.  The women went that first Resurrection morn, in the deepness of the dawn, to the tomb.  And there they found life, and hope.  The women went to the tomb prepared to write the final chapter in the Book of the Life of Jesus, a book which, to their bitter disappointment, they had seen end in tragedy on Calvary, as Jesus died on the Cross. 

   But no.  That morning, at the tomb, they discovered that the story was not over.  Tragedy was exchanged for joy, the darkness of their hearts was dispelled by a new light.  This new light shone forth from the tomb, gleaming like lightning off the clothes of the two men who met them there.  The Deep Dawn of Salvation. 

   A remarkable blessing for these faithful women.  But can we go somewhere to see this new light?  Where can we find this Deep Dawn of Salvation?  Can we go to the tomb, to see the Light?  Or perhaps we might get to the place where death and life have contended, in that combat stupendous?

   One Good Friday, twenty-some years ago, while I was studying at our seminary in Fort Wayne, Indiana, a man came to the park across the street from our house.  He appeared to very spiritual, that Good Friday afternoon.  He came to the park with a wooden staff in his hand, and a distant gaze in his eyes.  By contrast, I think I appeared anything but spiritual.  I was spending my Good Friday afternoon playing soccer with my kids, when this man appeared, staff in hand.  Out of curiosity I spoke with him on my way in to an early dinner, before we headed over to church. 

   He had been there some time by then, leaning on his staff, staring into the western sun, chanting something I couldn’t understand, because it wasn’t words, just sounds.  I spoke with him, and he told me he was beginning his Easter celebration, there in the park.  He came to watch the setting sun, and reflect on Easter, on God.  I left him, wondering about his chosen celebration.  I saw him out our front window, on Saturday, at sundown, and again on Sunday morning.  He was looking for the New Light, the Deep Dawn of Salvation, in a park, in Fort Wayne.  Meditating on the mystery of Easter in his wordless chants, he seemed to be striving to come to God.  He seemed very spiritual. 

   There is something noble, something impressive, about people who are pursuing God without concern for what onlookers might think of them.  Many times during the First Gulf War, on empty Saudi Arabian highways, I saw individual Saudis, men, and a few times women, decked out in the full black Chador and Niqab, faithful Moslems, stopped on the shoulder of the road.  Their mat rolled out on the ground, they prayed towards Mecca, entirely ignoring the rumbling of the convoy of Marine Corps vehicles passing by.  The Islamic understanding of God is entirely contrary to the Word of Jesus, but on a human level, I was impressed by their efforts to be faithful.  Both those Moslems in the desert and that man in the park were at least serious.  They were seeking God.  And that at least could be a point of contact, the beginning of a conversation.   

   Twenty-some years ago, in the park, I didn’t know the story well enough to suggest to that man with a staff that the new light of salvation does not shine from that giant ball of gas, 93 million miles away; he needs to get to the place where death and life have contended.    God’s light doesn’t emanate from our spiritual appearance, nor from within our thoughts.  The Dawn of Salvation does not shine from sounds we chant, nor even from our own best thoughts and words.  To find salvation we must go to the Deepness of the Dawn, and to the place where the stupendous combat was fought.  Where death and life have contended.  Only there will you find the light of new life. 

   But how, you ask?  How can I go there?  We might as well join the man leaning on a staff, gazing into the sun.  That seems as likely to work as anything else we could do, as likely as anything else to transport us across time and space to the Cross or the Empty Tomb.  Don’t tell me that to find the Dawn of Salvation, I must go to the Cross, or to the Empty Tomb.  Because I can’t do it. 

   I’m stuck here, in this body, in this time and place, and no amount of imagining or chanting or staring into the sunrise will release me, or change one single thing about my life.  I’ll still get tired of leaning on that staff.  My mind will still wander.  I’ll get cold, and hungry.  Tomorrow I have to go back to work, and I won’t be any closer to the Light.

   This time of the year, as Spring begins, the Church makes a bit more noise than usual, celebrating the Cross and Empty Tomb.  At the same time, the media companies roll out their specials about how wrong the Bible is about everything.  So, it’s common for people’s thoughts turn to spiritual themes at this time of year.  As the Church celebrates Good Friday and the Resurrection, it’s normal that many people go searching for a comforting light.  There are no doubt people attending Church today for just this reason. 

   Have you ever searched for the Light of Salvation, but you ended up frustrated, disappointed?  Do you find that all our religious striving, all our searching for the truth, doesn’t accomplish anything? 

   If you’ve come to this conclusion, you’re right.  While it is true that you and I need the New Light, we can’t transport ourselves to it.  Salvation did shine forth in the deepness of the dawn at the Empty Tomb outside Jerusalem almost 2,000 years ago, but you and I can’t get there.  It’s impossible for us. 

   God knows you can’t get there.  So, His New Light comes to you.  From Genesis to Revelation, this is a central theme of God’s Word: God sending His light to people stuck in darkness. 

   But you won’t find the Light of Salvation as you gaze at a sunset or a sunrise, nor in your empty contemplation; not in your self-discipline, nor by putting on a spiritual appearance.  As commendable as our efforts to seek God seem, this has never been the Way to God’s True Light. 

   The light of salvation must come to you, from outside of you; you cannot go to it.  If you did somehow find your way into God’s light, it would not be comforting, because it would be too bright, too pure, too penetrating, for people like you and me. 

   But do not give up hope, for the Light is coming to you, in ways your eyes can handle.  Which is to say that the Light of Salvation comes to you and me in veiled ways, mediated through common things, through which Jesus shines for you with the Light that comforts, the Light that saves. 

   You see, the light is found only in Jesus Christ, for the light is Jesus Christ.  When He said “I AM the light of the world,” He meant it.  And He has been seeking to shine the light of His love into the hearts of sinners like you and me, ever since we became sinners.  In fact, God has been shining His light to give us life since before the Fall into sin. 

   After creating from nothing the matter that makes up our universe, the very first thing God spoke was: “Let there be light.”  As the LORD began to organize and breath life into His new creation, working towards His goal of preparing a wonderful world for His favorites, for the man the woman and their descendants, the very first thing God did was to send His light.  And from John’s Gospel we know that the Light who was in the beginning with the Father, giving light, and so also life to the world, is none other than Jesus Christ, the eternal Son of the Father.  Wherever light shines, God wants you to understand that Christ Jesus is there.     

   He is the light that shined so brightly that it gleamed like lightning off the clothes of the two men standing at the tomb.  This is the same light that shined forth from Jesus, as he stood on the Mount of Transfiguration, speaking with Moses and Elijah.  It is the very Light of Heaven, Jesus Christ. 

   For now, because we sinners can’t safely see God’s unveiled, glorious light, God’s Son reveals himself to you not through your eyes, but through your ears.  He comes to you and shows Himself to you by teaching you.  He teaches you all about who He is, and who you are, and what He has done to forgive you all your sins.  Jesus knows you can’t go to Him.  He knows that your weakness blinds your eyes to the light of heaven which shines forth from His resurrected body.  So Jesus comes to you, veiled in Words spoken by mere humans.  He comes to forgive your sin, and give you eyes of faith that see in this forgiveness the light of mercy that shines from His Cross.   

   Jesus, and only Jesus, can and has won the forgiveness of your sins, because of who He is.  Jesus is God, the only begotten Son of the Father, from whom the Holy Spirit proceeds.  Jesus is also a man; with no human father, yes, but still a man.  Conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, Jesus is a person like you and me in every way, except without sin.  The Chosen One came from heaven precisely because you and I, by our nature, turn away from the light of heaven, and instead seek the darkness. 

   You, and I, like every man, woman and child, by our nature prefer the darkness of sin and evil.  And even when the pain of sinful living shocks us into looking for a better way, we naturally assume we must find the way to do what it takes to please the Creator.  We struggle to believe that God’s pure light could ever be meant for us, or that He would seek us out to share it with us, as a gift. 

   Quite naturally we can put on a good show of seeking the light, like my friend with his staff in the park.  But the truth is, because God is love and we so often fail to love, we in truth fear His light.  Our sins and our failures to love make us fear the light, and instead let the darkness surround and hide us.  No matter how dedicated we seem in our desire to find the light, in the end, we of our own power shrink back into the shadows. 

   Dedication.  Even more than my spiritual friend in the park, the women showed incredible dedication when they went to the tomb in the very early morning to put spices on the dead body of Jesus Christ.  Dedication, but no faith.  The task for which they came reveals that they did not understand or believe what Jesus was doing on Good Friday.        

   They had heard Jesus talk about giving Himself as a ransom for sin.  They had heard Jesus called the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.  But they could not grasp the glorious battle that took place on the Cross.  They could only see their friend and teacher dying horribly.  In the darkness that covered the land that day, they could not see the light which shone forth from the Cross.  So, lost in grief, they came to put spices on His dead body. 

   But then, as He does, Jesus came to them, and revealed His living body to them.  Ever the patient instructor, He explained again to the women, and to the 11 disciples, and to all His followers, that it was necessary that the Son of Man be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified, and on the third day rise again.  He came to them in His resurrected body and told them that it was necessary for Him to go through  that combat stupendous, so that we could have life in His name.  Only then, when the resurrected Jesus taught them, again, only then did they see the Light of Salvation.  Only then did they receive the benefit of Christ’s victory over death.

    Salvation has dawned.  The New Light is shining.  It shines forth, not from a 2,000 year old tomb that we can’t with absolute certainty locate.  No, it shines forth from Jesus Christ, from His resurrected, living body, which ascended into heaven and reigns forever and ever.  Jesus shines to the eyes of faith which see the Light of truth in the Scripture, the Word of God.  It shines to all who are re-born by water and the Word into a new day, the Day of Salvation.  It shines from the Body and the Blood, given and shed for the forgiveness of sins.  Jesus veils Himself and His victory in these seemingly common, unflashy things, so that you and I can draw near and receive His light and His life, by faith.      

    Did my friend in the park learn to see the True Light through his ears being filled with the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection?  Beneath all his wordless chants and his spiritual appearance, did he have faith in Jesus Christ, the Resurrected One, in whom alone we have forgiveness, life, and salvation?  I don’t know.  I pray that he did and he does.  If I ever see him again, I pray for the strength, wisdom and words to tell him what I tell you here today: 

 

   Look to the Resurrected One, Jesus Christ, the Light of the world.  Look for Christ in the places where He has promised to be found, sharing His mercy.  God is everywhere.  But He is present and shining His forgiving glory for you in particular places.  Like in the new birth of Baptism.  His love shines forth for you in the Apostles’ teaching, the Word of God, and in the breaking of the bread, which create and feed your faith in His victory, won for you.  Jesus, who won that combat stupendous, defeating death in His own body, is also the One who has light and life for you.  Look to His light, with your ears.  Rejoice in your heart.  Indeed, see the light of His glory with the eyes of your heart. 

Christ is Risen!        He is Risen Indeed, Alleluia!  Amen. 

Good Friday, April 18^th, anno + Domini 2025,
Our Savior’s and Our Redeemer Lutheran Churches
Hill City and Custer, SD
A Rich Burial - Isaiah 53:9

     He assigned his grave with wicked men, but with a rich man in his death…

 

   The final honor bestowed on an important person is a rich burial. The pharaohs of ancient Egypt built the pyramids for their tombs, lined them with gold, and filled them with provisions for the afterlife. Napolean’s tomb in Paris is grandiose, as is the Medici chapel, where the magnates of that family are buried, in Florence, Italy.  And, even if he isn’t really dead, Elvis’s gravesite in Graceland is a very popular tourist attraction.   A towering tombstone or a granite mausoleum give tribute to the one whose remains rest there. 

    On Good Friday, Christ’s shameful death was in the company of “wicked men,” but according to God’s plan He received the honor of a burial as “a rich man”.   Joseph of Arimathea gave Christ a tomb that was suitable for an upright man, even a relatively wealthy one – he gave Christ a rich burial.  But the greater truth hidden in that Good Friday tomb is the promise that all baptized believers are buried with the limitless riches of God’s grace in Christ.  Jesus’ burial promises resurrection and the priceless inheritance of eternal life.

    Our Good Friday text from Isaiah is a careful, detailed prophecy about the end of Jesus’ earthly life. Tonight we hear it in a bit more literal translation, which conveys even more clearly the specific details uttered by Isaiah some 700 years before the death of Jesus.

     Verse 9 begins “He assigned His grave with wicked men”. God the Father is the He, the unnamed subject, the one who “assigned” to Christ His grave. The circumstances of Good Friday are not unplanned accidents of history. No, everything took place according to God’s detailed, pre-ordained plan. Part of that plan was for Christ’s grave to be among “wicked men”. That sounds like Jesus would get a dishonorable burial, a pauper’s grave, shameful treatment suitable for a common criminal. Yet, our verse continues, “but with a rich man in His death.”  This second line predicts an honorable, rich burial. 

     So which is it?  How was Christ treated - shamefully, or honorably?  As poor, or rich? As Jesus Christ died and was buried on this day nearly two thousand years ago, He fulfilled both lines of our verse.  Jesus was assigned a grave with wicked men and with a rich man in His death.  Most importantly, His burial holds great promise for each of us.

    The first part of God’s plan made use of the scheme of Jesus’ enemies.  They plotted to kill the King of the Jews, even though His kingdom was not of this world.  They paid Judas to betray Him.  Jesus was arrested and led though a series of sham trials before Jewish leaders and the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, who unjustly condemned Jesus to what was known in the ancient world as mors turpissima crucis, “the most vile death of the cross.”

     A violent criminal appears in the narrative of Jesus’ death, someone who might remind us of today’s Muslim terrorists.  Barabbas had taken part in an insurrection, an attempt to violently overthrow the Roman government.   Instead of freeing Jesus, Pilate complies with the crowd’s demand, and frees Barabbas, a murderer. (Luke 23:19, 25).  On Christ’s right and left the Romans also crucified two evildoers.  And so we see that Jesus “was numbered with the transgressors” (Isaiah 53:12). The sinless Son of God suffered beside wicked men, “although He had done no violence, nor was any deceit in His mouth.”  Such was the death planned for Jesus by His enemies.  In this way, the first line of our verse was fulfilled: God “assigned His grave with wicked men.”

Jesus’ death in the company of notorious sinners was a fitting conclusion to His earthly ministry.  Christ was derisively known as the “friend of sinners” (Luke 7:34), because He associated with tax collectors and prostitutes, the poor and the lowly, the unclean and the sick.  Jesus happily received and spent time with people who were despised, those avoided and scorned by all “upstanding, good people.”  So also in His death, Christ identifies with sinners, executed as a criminal in the company of wicked men.  

 Our Lord was poor, too.  His only fine possession - a tunic woven in one piece, with no seams at all, became the soldiers’ gambling prize. Forsaken, stripped naked and robbed of all outward dignity, Jesus’ had no earthly possessions.  He dies in utter poverty, in keeping with God’s plan to give us heavenly wealth.  Jesus’ death in the place of poor sinners procured the richness of the forgiveness of sins for all humanity.

As Isaiah prophesied:  He was pierced for our transgression, crushed for our iniquities.  The punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed. (Isaiah 53:5)

     His death brings us peace.  His wounds heal us.  By grace alone, through Baptism into Christ’s atoning death (Romans 6:1–4; Colossians 2:11–14), God takes away our sin and clothes us in the robe of Christ’s perfect righteousness.  He died in abject poverty to give us a share in the victor’s spoils, the riches of eternal life, a free gift for all who believe in the Crucified.  And Isaiah foresaw this, too:

My Servant will justify the many so that each is righteous, and He will carry their     iniquities.  Therefore I will give to Him His portion while He is among the many, and He will divide the spoil with the numerous. (Isaiah 53:11–12)

 

     Jesus' accusers, the scribes, Pharisees and priests, leaders of the Jewish people, plotted to destroy Him.  They had no desire to see Him honored in death.  For their part, the pagan Romans often left crucified victims on the cross for days, unprotected from the elements and scavenger birds.  They did this to inflict humiliation even after death, as a warning to others who might think to challenge Roman authority.  Later they would throw the desecrated remains into a common grave.  Such was the burial that the world had planned for the Son of God.  

  

    But God the Father would not permit such disgrace to mock His Son in death. When Jesus prayed, “Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit” (Luke 23:46), and breathed His last, He completed the redemption of all humanity for all time.  The Father’s will was fulfilled.  It is finished; Jesus' goal is achieved.  His time of humiliation is over.  Rich glory awaits.

  God’s plan was that after Christ died in the company of “wicked men,” He was to be “with a rich man in His death.”  Joseph of Arimathea was “a good and righteous” Jew  (Luke 23:50) who had become a disciple of Jesus Christ, although secretly for fear of the Jews.  On Good Friday he took a bold step of faith.  The Holy Spirit moved him to ask Pontius Pilate for the body of Jesus.  Joseph thought to give Christ His final honors.

    As a Jew, and a member of the Council, the Sanhedrin, burying the body of Jesus meant Joseph was throwing away his honored place in society.  Under Roman domination, it took a brave man to request the body of a criminal.  Pilate could think that Joseph was declaring his allegiance to the one who had been executed.  This could easily draw suspicion from the Roman governor.  Joseph could be next.

   Joseph of Arimathea was “a rich man” (Matthew 27:57). One sign of his wealth was his ownership of a tomb in a garden near Golgotha.  Joseph had gone to the expense of having a tomb hewn out of solid rock.  This was the best and the most secure type of grave in the ancient world, although it would not be able to hold the risen Lord.

    It was a new tomb, no one else had ever been laid in it.  Joseph had prepared it to be his own resting place (Matthew 27:60).  Out of love for the Lord who had taken his place on the cross, Joseph gave Jesus his costly tomb.

    Into the virgin tomb was placed the Virgin’s Son.

     The sin of the first Adam caused humanity’s expulsion from the garden paradise (Genesis 2–3).  In another garden, the second Adam, Jesus Christ, leads humanity back into paradise through His burial and resurrection.  By Christ’s rich burial, God honored His Son, the Lamb of God without spot or blemish, the acceptable sacrifice, of unlimited value.

    The pharaohs of Egypt filled their pyramid tombs with gold and every precious commodity.  They did this in the false hope that their wealth could secure a blessed afterlife.  But most of their gold was long ago plundered by grave robbers.

    No one can rob us of God’s priceless riches in Christ, which do secure a blessed afterlife for all who trust in Jesus.  The forgiveness of sins is ours through Christ’s crucifixion “with wicked men.”  God considers baptized believers in Christ to be Christ-like: to have done no wrong, nor to have any deceit in our mouth, because Christ has taken away all of our sins, burying them in His own body.  And the promise of resurrection is ours, because His stay with “with a rich man in His death” was only temporary.

    It is necessary for you and me to contemplate Good Friday, and wrestle with the knowledge that our sin is part of the cause Jesus' suffering and death.  He suffered because we are sinners.  He went to the tomb in our place. 

    And yet, we do not despair.  Rather, we rest in the peace of God, the peace that knows that Jesus’ death is our forgiveness, and His rest in the tomb is our gateway to new life.   

Rest in Jesus.  Amen

God’s Terrible, Remarkable, Wonderful Exchange - Sermon for the 5th Sunday in Lent

Fifth Sunday in Lent, April 6^th, Year of Our + Lord 2025
Our Redeemer and Our Savior’s Lutheran Churches, Custer and Hill City, SD
God’s Terrible, Remarkable, Wonderful Exchange

Audio: https://beyondthesanctuary.podbean.com/e/god-s-terrible-remarkable-wonderful-exchange-sermon-for-the-5th-sunday-in-lent/

   Listen up.  Jesus wants you to pay attention.  Previously when our Lord has spoken to us in parables, they could be hard to follow; they seem made for pondering.  But today Jesus is being pretty obvious.  It’s time, you see, time for all that God has been teaching and doing to come to a climax.  It’s time that everyone understands exactly what is going on.  It’s time for an old thing, and a new thing, and Jesus doesn’t want you to miss it.  Jesus in Luke’s Gospel is just a few days from the Cross.  We are less than two weeks from Good Friday, almost to the end of our annual reconsideration, in sometimes excruciating detail, of the central events of salvation.  So it’s a good time for us to have Jesus lay things out in a very clear way, just as it was good for the crowds and Scribes and Priests in Jerusalem two thousand years ago. 

     Some parables are tricky, often the 12 disciples had to ask Jesus privately what they meant.  Not today.  We have a man who owns a vineyard, and some tenants who have been put in charge of the vineyard, and we have the man’s servants, sent to gather the owner’s share of the fruit, and we have his son.  Not too many characters.  You can follow the story.  So listen up. 

   The man planted a vineyard, but he had to go away, for a long time.  God is the man, and the vineyard is God’s people in this world.  God created the heavens and the earth in order to dwell with us.  But He had to go away, for our own good.  God had to leave, He had to withdraw His visible presence from the earth, because of our sin.  The man in the parable isn’t negligent, going to another country.  God had to leave, or we sinners would have been to be destroyed.  God’s visible absence from the world is an act of mercy, a postponement of judgment, allowing mankind to continue living, and making time for God to work out His plan. 

    The tenants are left in charge of the vineyard.  God’s special people, the children of Abraham, the Israelites, always had leaders.  Moses, Joshua, Elijah, David.  And in Jesus’ day, the Pharisees, the Scribes, the Chief Priests, and the Elders, the religious and social elite.  These are the tenants, put in charge of God’s vineyard, for the benefit of all Israel, and all the world.  Israel was set apart, they were special.  But they were also to be a light to the nations, the hope of all the world.  After mankind’s fall into sin, access to the LORD, the true God, was primarily through Israel, especially in their Tabernacle and Temple, God’s dwelling place, Israel’s place of worship.  Access to and the Knowledge of God that was to be administered graciously by the prophets and teachers and priests. 

    In return, what did the man expect of his tenants?  A little fruit.  That is, God wants more faithful children, from within Israel and from the world.  All the leaders needed to do was tell the truth about the LORD and administer His gifts His way, and they would have harvested bountiful fruit for the LORD. 

    But the tenants were wicked.  The man sent servants to his tenants, to collect the man’s share of the fruit.  God sent messengers to Israel, faithful prophets, faithful kings, faithful priests, faithful leaders to plead with the many faithless kings and priests and people: return to the LORD your God, for He is gracious and merciful.  Follow His way; do not lead yourselves and others down the path of destruction. 

    The tenants treated the servants of the man shamefully.  They were scorned, rejected, ignored, beaten, and cast out.  In the parable, just three suffering servants.  In the history of Israel, dozens.  Elijah, Elisha, Samuel, Nathan, Jeremiah, Obadiah, Amos and Malachi, and many more.  O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, cried out Jesus, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not! Luke 13:34 

    And yet, the man, the owner of the vineyard, is patient, patient beyond human understanding.  His desire to turn the hearts of the tenants borders on scandal.  “They have rejected my servants,” he asks himself, “what more can I do?  I know, I’ll send my son!  I will send my beloved son; maybe they will respect him.”  But the tenants are truly wicked. 

    The Pharisees, Scribes and Priests know the Hebrew Scripture.  They know who Jesus has to be.  They know from His teaching and His miracles that He has to be the promised Savior, the Messiah sent from God, God’s Son, come down from heaven.  But, they do not respect Him.  They hate Him, they oppose Him, because He comes to free the people, indeed the whole world, from their clutches. 

    Let’s kill him, conspire the wicked tenants, let’s kill the son, and the vineyard will be ours!  We must not lose our place, we must not lose our power.  Let’s kill the son and be free from the owner of the vineyard, forever. 

    Fools.  God had removed Himself from visible presence in the creation for our good, for our protection, so that His Holiness would not destroy us in our sinfulness.  But He can return.  And He will. 

    The wicked tenants kill the beloved son.  In their greedy arrogance, they think they can become their own masters.  Jesus asks the crowd: What will the owner of the vineyard do to those tenants?  No answer.  The crowd can’t say it, even though it is obvious.  So Jesus concludes the parable in the only way that we can imagine it would end: the man comes back and destroys those wicked tenants, and gives the vineyard to another.  The crowd can’t take this word.  Will God slay the leaders of Israel, and give the Kingdom to someone else?  May it never be!  God forbid!  No! 

    But this is the way, the old way, the way it has always been, ever since God’s favorite people betrayed Him.  This is the way, and this is why the Psalm declares: 'The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone' (Psalm 118:22)  Everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces, and when it falls on anyone, it will crush him.

    It is as Jesus predicted.  The Son of Man would be betrayed into the hands of the chief priests, scribes and Pharisees, and they, the leaders of Israel, the tenants of God’s vineyard, would, with the help of the rulers of the world, murder the Son of God.  Oh, the wicked tenants.  May it never be!

    But it is.  And we ought not imagine we would have acted differently.  Why do you think the crowds were so upset by this parable, a parable so clearly not directed at them, but at the scribes and priests?   Was it respect for their leaders that led them to cry out against Jesus’ story?  Was it revulsion at the wickedness portrayed?  Or was it more personal?  Did God’s Word that day cut too close to the crowd, sharply separating the joint and marrow of their own self-righteous bones?  Did Jesus reveal the dark secrets of their hearts, too? 

    I don’t know, but it is true that given the chance, given the authority and power of the scribes and Pharisees, it is likely that anyone from the crowd of listeners would have ended up in the same place.  Even the Apostle Peter did, rebuking Jesus when He prophesied His cross.  We are all corrupt, and God’s plan offends our nature.  We are all naturally corrupt, and so we will all use power corruptly.  This is the way of the world, the old way of selfishness that prevents us from doing the things that God requires. 

    When our corruption is revealed, we realize that we live in dark and troubled days.  You may be more or less upset about the current economic turmoil we see.  But our real problems run much deeper than the threat of recession or a trade war, and their effects on our 401k’s.  Human reality is a dark and troubled reality.  God forbid, by the end of the parable it appears we are all headed to hell, we cannot seem to get ourselves off the road to destruction.  There does not seem to be any way out for us.  If the most religious people in all of Israel end up killing God’s Son, and if we are all came from the same sinful stock, if the secret thoughts of our hearts condemn us, how can we avoid the wrath of the vineyard owner? Is there any way to avoid falling into the same old way? 

    Thus says the LORD, who made a seemingly impossible dry path in the Red Sea for Israel to pass through and escape destruction.  The same rescuing LORD declares to you:  "Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. for Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

          I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.

          for I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert,

to give drink to my chosen people, the people whom I formed for myself

that they might declare my praise.

    It seems impossible, but God’s new way comes through the outworking of the world’s old way.  The same old thing, the same old sinful failures of you and me and all people are used for good, by God, through Jesus.  The Son of God would be murdered, put to death for crimes He did not commit, killed simply because He claimed to be who He is, God’s beloved Son, made to be a man, for our salvation.  And yet, the way out of our destruction is found in that death. 

   You see, God the Father gives the vineyard to His beloved Son.  There is no one else to give it to, only the Son remains faithful, only Jesus bears fruit.  Jesus was faithful in life, and death.  God the Father declared His approval as He raised Jesus from the dead, and declares the whole vineyard, indeed the whole universe, to be His. 

    And then, risen from the dead, Jesus does the unthinkable.  He draws us sinners, us rebels, back into the vineyard, by revealing that His death has washed away our sins.  He even invites the wicked tenants, the ringleaders of the rebellion, to rejoin Him in His vineyard.  Amazing grace, indeed.

  In the One Man Jesus Christ the Way of God is revealed.  The eternal Son, fully God, now also fully man, is the firstborn from the dead.  One man, unique, unlike any other.  One death, profound, a death of infinite love, a death of infinite redeeming value, the death that gives life to all who trust in Jesus. 

   This is the new thing, that God in Christ was reconciling the world to Himself, not willing that sinners should die in their sins.  God would instead have us die, and rise, with Jesus.  In making this new thing, God made use of the evil actions of the scribes and priests, the Pharisees and the Romans, in order to win forgiveness for them, and for all people.  This is what Luther called the Wonderful Exchange.  Jesus’ righteousness for your sinfulness.  Jesus’ perfect life for your broken life.  Jesus’ death in your place.  Your new life, in Jesus. 

   This is it.  This is the whole enchilada.  Every false religion is false because it rejects this new thing that God has done.  Every sinner’s only hope is to hear and believe this promise, to be taught and washed and fed by the Crucified One.  Every true good work flows from the life of Christ, that creates new hearts in believers, hearts that thrill to serve and to love, as they have been served and loved by God.  The new thing is what Jesus did on His Cross, exposing and atoning for all human sinfulness, and then sharing divine goodness and life.  This is the center. 

   The facts of the story aren’t hard to follow.  The reality is painful to hear.  But listen. Do not close your ears.  Do not believe the devil’s liars who say it didn’t happen.  Listen closely, for after the pain of the knowledge of sin comes the pure joy of God’s grace and mercy.  Everything in the whole history of the world leads to or flows from that moment, those few days in Jerusalem, when God did a new thing.  Every Law of God was fulfilled in the obedience of Christ.  Every sin is covered by His forgiving blood.  Every fruit that God desires grows from the True Vine, Jesus Christ, God’s Son, Savior of the World.  And so with Paul, we seek to be conformed to His image, knowing that the closer we come to Jesus, even perhaps suffering with Him, the more He will restore and fill our lives. 

   Churches will be a little fuller in the coming weeks.  Sometimes the regular attenders might grumble about that, since experience teaches us that it won’t last.  But listen: every time that sinners come to hear the story of Christ and His suffering death and resurrection, it is another opportunity for the Spirit to separate joint and marrow, and reveal the thoughts of the heart.  It is another chance for God to cut sinners away from their love of sin, which leads only to death, and implant them into the life-giving vine that is Jesus Christ. 

    So rejoice, as a few more come  to celebrate Holy Week and Easter.  Rejoice, and pray that God will work mightily, rebuking sinners, including you and me.  May God turn every sinner from our selfishness, and recreate us with His love, poured out in Jesus blood. 

  Rejoice and know that Christ has done this new thing, for you, to have you for His very own, forgiven and restored, forever and ever, Amen.