The Passing Away Of Tita Cory

Mrs. Corazon Cojuangco Aquino, former President of the Republic of the Philippines, widow of slain senator Benigno "Ninoy" Aquino, restorer of democracy to this republic, passed away early Saturday morning, August 1, 2009.

The Lord's Compassion

The Eighth Sunday After Pentecost

Genesis 9:8-17
Ephesians 3:14-21
Mark 6:45-56



Grace to you and peace from God, our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. (Romans 1:7)
Last Sunday we saw how the Lord provided in spite of the disciples’ lack of compassion and faith. This Sunday, we see more of the Lord’s compassion, for his disciples, for his people.
Our Gospel lesson this Sunday picks up right after the feeding of the five thousand. St. Mark reports that after the feeding of the five thousand,
Immediately he made his disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. And after he had taken leave of them, he went up on the mountain to pray.
And we realize that even the Lord needs some time by himself, to reflect, to shut the noise of the world out, to pray, to commune with his Heavenly Father. The long awaited, possibly long planned for vacation was interrupted. Now, after the feeding of the five thousand, they have time at last.
After the Lord prays,
And when evening came, the boat was out on the sea, and he was alone on the land. And he saw that they were making headway painfully, for the wind was against them. And about the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea.
Why did the Lord walk on the sea? Well, first of all, he can. And possibly, he wanted to go ahead of the disciples in order to welcome them when they came to shore.
He meant to pass by them, but when they saw him walking on the sea they thought it was a ghost, and cried out, for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, "Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid."
Now, the Jews had a superstition that a spirit or ghost seen on the sea was a harbinger of disaster. The disciples were afraid because of their superstition. And so, in order to calm them, the Lord comes to them, saying, “Take jeart! Do not be afraid. It is I.” Even in the midst of their fear and superstitious, the Lord reaches out to the in compassion and reassures them that it is no ghost, but the Lord himself. This situation will be repeated later on, when, out of fear, the disciples will mistake the Lord once more for a ghost, refusing to believe that he had risen from the dead. The disciples were terrified, because, St. Mark says, “they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.” They saw the miracle of the loaves, and saw their Lord walk on water, and still they were confused and afraid. Why? Because their hearts were hardened. They did not believe in the Lord.
MALADY
And much of the time, we are like the disciples. We also do not understand the Lord’s Word. Do we read the Lord’s Word? And if and when we read his Word, do we understand it? If we do not understand his Word, do we go to Bible study so that someone may explain his Word to us? When the Lord speaks his Word to us through his pastor, do we listen? When we worship, are our minds on the liturgy, or are we off somewhere else? In the events outside, or on our mobile phones, perhaps? And because we are unfamiliar with the Lord’s Word and his promises, we become fearful, like the disciples. We are afraid of our past, which results in guilt; we are afraid of our present, which results in anxiety; we are afraid of our future, which results in worry. We are, like the disciples, superstitious. And so, we attach superstitions to our fears: “Did i do something wrong?” “Am I the target of witchcraft?” “Is this an evil spirit’s doing?” “Shouldn’t we consult a Feng Shui expert?” “What’s my horoscope for today?”
Our unbelief is like the unbelief of the disciples, because we too are witnesses of the Lord’s miracles. Everytime the Lord’s Word is preached, we are witnesses of the Lord’s miracles; eveytime an infant is baptized here in front of us, we witness a miracle; everytime we partake of the Sacrament of Holy Communion, we witness a miracle. And yet, in spite of these miracles, still we will not believe. Like the disciples, our hearts are hardened – because of sin.
GOSPEL
But wait. There is another miracle here. The disciples’ unbelief and hardness of heart does not hinder the Lord from being compassionate.
When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored to the shore. And when they got out of the boat, the people immediately recognized him and ran about the whole region and began to bring the sick people on their beds to wherever they heard he was. And wherever he came, in villages, cities, or countryside, they laid the sick in the marketplaces and implored him that they might touch even the fringe of his garment. And as many as touched it were made well.
The disciples’ unbelief and hardness of heart does not stop the Lord from showing compassion to those in need, to those who could not help themselves. Jesus, in spite of fear, unbelief and confusion, reaches out in compassion and heals them. Nothing can hinder the Lord from healing the sick, and saving the lost. Nothing can hinder the Lord from loving us.
And the Lord’s compassion reaches not only those people in need; the Lord’s compassion reaches not only the disciples. The Lord’s compassion also reaches us – even through time, because, like the people in his time, we too are like sheep without a shepherd; we too need his touch so that we may be healed, so that our needs may be met, so that our sins may be forgiven, because his touch brings grace, forgiveness and life. We also need the Lord’s healing touch for we too are sick with fear and unbelief.
So great is the Lord’s compassion that it reaches even to Calvary. And so vast is his sacrifice on that hill that it reaches up to heaven, to the presence of God, so that God’s grace may reach us. And because of the grace which we have received, our unbelief and fear are washed away by the blood of the only begotten Son of God, by his death on the cross.
But not only that. We see, again and again, our Lord’s compassion, even to this day. Whenever his Word is proclaimed, the Lord’s compassion reaches us. Whenever we witness and partake of his Sacraments, his compassion reaches us, bringing forgiveness and new life. Because of what he has done for us on the cross.
And so, in the midst of our guilt, our fear, our confusion and unbelief, once more, through His Word and Sacraments, the Lord comes to us full of compassion, and he tells us: “Take heart. Do not be afraid. It is I.” This is most certainly true. This is most certainly for you.
May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen. (Philippians 4:7)

The Lord's Provision

The Seventh Sunday After Pentecost

Jeremiah 23:1-6
Ephesians 2:16-22
Mark 6:33-44


Grace to you and peace from God, our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. (Romans 1:7)
Our Gospel lesson for this Sunday shows us the basic difference between our compassion and the Lord’s compassion. Our compassion rarely results into action. Do we not see this everytime we hear about and see dire news on the radio and on TV? And do we not see this everyday in our reactions to the various issues of everyday? For instance, if we see an accident or some act of terrorism on TV, don’t we all feel bad for the victims? Yes, we do, and yet so much of the time, that is the extent of our compassion. When we are on the street and see children sniffing glue, or begging, playing hopscotch with speeding cars and trucks on the highway, we most certainly feel pity for these children, but that is all. Rarely does our pity, our compassion, result into action. With the Lord, it is different. St. Mark tells us:
When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. And he began to teach them many things.
Like sheep without a shepherd. Meaning, that no one bothered to teach them, to guide them, to bring to them God’s Word. It could also mean that their lives were going nowhere. Do we not, at times, feel like this? A lot of times, we feel LOST. I myself feel this sometimes, that I am lost amid a great sea of doubt and indecision, and i feel that something is lacking in my life, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. And I know you’ve felt the same way at one time or another. So many times we are like the people who struggled to follow Jesus: we are like sheep without a shepherd. And often, we try to plug up this void, this uncertainty through our own efforts at seeking after meaning. Some try to find that meaning in drink, while others immerse themselves all the more into their work. Different means, desperate measure, but in the end, it all amounts to the same thing: we’re no better than we were. We still end up like sheep without a shepherd.
I have no doubt the disciples saw this too in the faces of the people that day. And it is likely that they too felt compassion. The thing is, they didn’t know what to do. But now look at the Lord. He doesn’t just feels compassion, he acts upon that compassion. He taught them many things, St. Mark says. In other words, the Lord responded to the needs of the people. He gave them His Word. The Lord respomds to our needs. He gives us His Word.
But all this teaching gives rise to another problem. We all know what happens in small towns when twilight descends. Farm animals are herded from the pasture back into the sheds, and stores begin to close up for the night. People young and old go into their houses, for darkness is coming.
And when it grew late, his disciples came to him and said, "This is a desolate place, and the hour is now late. Send them away to go into the surrounding countryside and villages and buy themselves something to eat."
Again we get a glimpse of the extent of the compassion of the disciples, but, if we are to go by St. Mark’s report, the disciples’ suggestion seems to be logical. For to be able to feed five thousand, you need to prepare. A lot. You don’t just go someplace and ask people to sit for their meal. But apparently, the Lord knew what he was doing. But he answered them, "You give them something to eat." Could the Lord have been testing the disciples? St. John, in his gospel, thinks so: He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he would do. Maybe the Lord was testing the limits of the disciples’ faith, or the limits of their compassion. And they said to him, "Shall we go and buy two hundred denariif worth of bread and give it to them to eat?" And once more, the disciples show their doubt in the Lord’s compassion, in his provision.
And so much of the time we are like the disciples. So many times we doubt the Lord’s compassion for us. How many times have I desperately asked the Lord for a mirace and get me out of a sticky situation, a situation, often, of my own making? And when nothing happens, i look sullenly at heaven, doubting his compassion, and ask, “Why did you forsake me?” “Why do you continue to forsake your church?” So many times, we doubt the Lord’s compassion.
And how many times have Kristi and I doubted the Lord’s provision in the midst of our need? Whenever Kristi and I find that we’ve come up short on our budget, we look at each other and say, “Thus far the Lord has helped us.” And yet, deep in our hearts, we have begun to doubt. Deep inside our hearts, our apprehension and fear ask: “Will the Lord indeed provide?”
And our doubt isn’t only on physical things. Oh no. Our doubt extends to spiritual blessings too. We doubt the Lord’s compassion and provision especially in the spiritual things. “Will the Lord truly forgive? O! But my sin is too great!” Is this piece of bread truly his body?” “Is is little cup of wine truly his blood?” The truth is, like the disciples, our hearts and our lives are steeped in doubt. Because of sin. Because we are sinners. And because of sin, it is only fitting that the Lord leave us in the middle of our doubt, in the middle of our sin. It should have been fitting that the Lord heeded the suggestion of the disciples then, and it is only fitting that the Lord send us away, for we doubt his compassion and provision.
GOSPEL
And yet, wonder of wonders, the Lord does not heed the suggestion of the disciples. Instead, he has a suggestion of his own:
And he said to them, "How many loaves do you have? Go and see." And when they had found out, they said, "Five, and two fish." Then he commanded them all to sit down in groups on the green grass. So they sat down in groups, by hundreds and by fifties. And taking the five loaves and the two fish he looked up to heaven and said a blessing and broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples to set before the people. And he divided the two fish among them all. And they all ate and were satisfied.
Five pieces, and two fish. If you compare that to the number of people that needed to eat that evening, you’d say that those five loaves of bread and two fish were worse than nothing. But Jesus takes what the disciples have, which is nothing, and blesses it. And see what happens because of the Lord’s compassion, because of the Lord’s provision: And taking the five loaves and the two fish he looked up to heaven and said a blessing and broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples to set before the people. And he divided the two fish among them all. And they all ate and were satisfied. And the blessing that the Lord bestowed that day to fill the physical needs of the people, he bestows upon us today to satisfy our spiritual need. There on the hill of Calvary, his body was broken, his blood was shed so that we who are steeped in sin might receive his blessing: grace, forgiveness, life. The Lord blesses what we have, which is nothing, and fills our souls to overflowing, because that is the nature of the Lord’s compassion and provision. His grace and provision is not merely enough; it is more than enough! It is overflowing! And they took up twelve baskets full of broken pieces and of the fish. And those who ate the loaves were five thousand men.
The people that evening witnessed a miracle, and we read about this miracle too. But there is a much, much greater miracle that the Lord did for us: he died on the cross so that we who cannot, by our own reason or strength, enter into his kingdom, may be recognized by God as his children. Because of the compassion and provision of his only begotten Son. And the miracle of the Lord’s provision is this: it is certain, it is abundant, it is more than sufficient for our needs. His Word, His Sacraments, are his provision for us – they are certain they are abundant, they are more than sufficient for the forgiveness of your sins.
When the Lord provides, it is always more than enough. This is most certainly true. This is most certainly for you.
May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen. (Philippians 4:7)

The Grand Inquisitor

“There are three powers, three powers alone, able to conquer and to hold captive forever the conscience of these impotent rebels for their happiness – those forces are miracle, mystery and authority. . .for man seeks not so much God as the miraculous. And as man cannot bear to be without the miraculous, he will create new miracles of his own for himself, and will worship deeds of sorcery and witchcraft. . .Thou didst not come down from the Cross when they shouted to Thee, ‘Come down from the cross and we will believe that Thou art He.’ Thou didst not come down, for again Thou wouldst not enslave man by a miracle, and didst crave faith given freely, not based on miracles.”
- The Grand Inquisitor, speaking with Christ (Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov)

Heal The World

From the late great MJ. Enjoy!

Dalit

That's how India's Untouchables prefer to call themselves. http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0306/feature1/

The Logic of Faith

in Protestant theology:
Major premise: Whoever believes in Christ is saved.
Minor premise: I believe in Christ.
Conclusion: I am saved.

in Lutheran theology:
Major premise: Christ told me, "I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."
Minor premise: Christ never lies, but only tells the truth.
Conclusion: I am baptized (i.e., I am saved).

We Are Cowards. This Is True*

The Sixth Sunday After Pentecost

Amos 7:7-19
Ephesians 1:3-14
Mark 6:14-29

We Are Cowards. This Is True.*

Grace to you and peace from God, our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. (Romans 1:7)
Like father, like son. So goes the popular saying. Whenever we hear the name Herod, we automatically remember that tyrant who had those babies in Bethlehem killed because he could not brook having a rival to the throne. And we would be correct. Herod the Great, the father of the Herod in our Gospel text today, was, to put it simply, an evil man. During his reign, he managed to kill two of his brothers-in-law, his wife Mariamne, the mother of the Herod in our Gospel text, two of his own children, and, of course, those children in Bethlehem, all because he was a coward. One historian records that, five days before his death, in order to guarantee a proper atmosphere of mourning, Herod the Great ordered the arrest of many citizens, and decreed that they should be put to death at the moment of his own death. A coward to the end. Fortunately, the soldiers could not fulfill this death wish and set the prisoners free when Herod the Great died.
Now, what about the son, Herod Antipas? Herod Antipas was not a king, but a tetrarch. The Romans, when they had conquered Israel, divided the nation into three: Herod Philip II was made tetrarch of Iturea and Trachonitis; Archelaus was put in charge of Judea, Idumea and Samaria, while to Herod Antipas was given Perea and Galilee. Herod Philip (not the Herod Philip II) was Antipas’ younger brother and husband of Herodias. Well, what else do we know about Antipas? In our Gospel text, St. Mark tells us:
King Herod heard of it, for Jesus' name had become known. Somec said, "John the Baptistd has been raised from the dead. That is why these miraculous powers are at work in him." But others said, "He is Elijah." And others said, "He is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old." But when Herod heard of it, he said, "John, whom I beheaded, has been raised."
Superstitious, isn’t he? Antipas was afraid that the Baptist has come back from the dead to haunt him, because he had John the Baptist beheaded. So much like his father. Well, what else do we know? In verses 17-18, we read:
For it was Herod who had sent and seized John and bound him in prison for the sake of Herodias, his brother Philip's wife, because he had married her. For John had been saying to Herod, "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife."
Antipas, it seems, was also a lecher. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He had to have his younger brother’s wife for himself, and since his younger brother, Herod Philip, was not a tetrarch, there was little Herod Philip could do. It also seems that Antipas was a tyrant. He would not abide criticism, especially not from a fiery prophet dressed in rags and eating locusts and wild honey!
But perhaps, the most despicable quality of Antipas was that he was a coward, like his father. Why, you might ask. Well, it’s there in our text:
And Herodias had a grudge against him and wanted to put him to death. But she could not, for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he kept him safe. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed, and yet he heard him gladly.
From this tiny bit of information that St. Mark gives us, we clearly see that Antipas was afraid of Herodias, and he was afraid of John the Baptist. But he wasn’t just afraid of these two:
But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his nobles and military commanders and the leading men of Galilee. For when Herodias's daughter came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests. And the king said to the girl, "Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it to you." And he vowed to her, "Whatever you ask me, I will give you, up to half of my kingdom." And she went out and said to her mother, "For what should I ask?" And she said, "The head of John the Baptist." And she came in immediately with haste to the king and asked, saying, "I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter." And the king was exceedingly sorry, but because of his oaths and his guests he did not want to break his word to her. And immediately the king sent an executioner with orders to bring John'se head. He went and beheaded him in the prison and brought his head on a platter and gave it to the girl, and the girl gave it to her mother.
Turns out Antipas was also afraid of Herodias’ daughter, Salome! He was also afraid of what the people at his party would say if he denied the girl’s request. After all, he had promised the girl anything, even up to half his kingdom! But my goodness! Who would take such an oath seriously, especially after hearing the girl’s request! What a bloodthirsty girl! What a coward!
But more than this, Antipas was a coward because
Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he kept him safe. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed, and yet he heard him gladly.
He was obssessed with what John had to say, but that was the extent of it. And in this Antipas was the worst kind of coward: he refused to face himself; he refused to acknowledge his sin before John, before God. He refused to look at himself in the mirror of God’s Law. Antipas knew it was a sin to take Herodias for himself, but he could not bring himself to admit this to himself, and to God. And that is probably why he was greatly perplexed.
MALADY
And we, like Antipas, are also cowards. We are cowards. This is true. And the more you deny it, the more the statement proves its truthfulness: we are cowards. This is true. We refuse to acknowledge our own sinfulness, like Antipas. We live everyday convinced that we are good, decent people. Good fathers providing for our families, good mothers establishing a home, good children obedient to their parents. And this may be true. But we still refuse to acknowledge that our hearts are steeped in sin. People may not see the outward acts of sin, but the truth is we who think of ourselves as "good Christians" have so much garbage sitting in the middle of our lives that the odor makes it impossible to breathe without gagging. How many of us are addicted to food, porn and shopping? How many of us are depressed, angry, unforgiving and just plain mean? How many of us are a walking, talking course on basic hypocrisy, because we just can't look at ourselves in the mirror and admit what a collection of brokenness we've become WHILE we called ourselves "good Christians"?** We are like Antipas. We are cowards. This is true.
We are sinful. And, like Antipas, we love the way we are. And we love ourselves just the way we are: no hassles, no need to think or meditate. Just sit back and relax, and just keep on doing whatever it is you’re doing. The sermon may be disturbing, but that’s only for a little while. Easy enough to forget. As long as people see that I go to church, that’s fine. Never mind what’s inside my head or heart, because no one can see that, right? It is easier to be a coward and continue living in sin, than be courageous and confront Jesus. Wrong. It will take the death of God’s Son before we can be courageous.
GOSPEL
And that is exactly what happens. Because Jesus knows we are cowards, unable to confront ourselves in the mirror of the Law, he takes it upon himself to be courageous – FOR US. Because we are cowards and incapable of becoming courageous by our own strength and wisdom, Christ becomes courageous for us. He Himself faces and confronts our sin. He comes before the presence of the Almighty, taking our cowardice, our sin with Him, and takes it all to the cross with Him!
And on the cross Jesus forces us to confront ourselves. He forces us to face our cowardice, our inability to admit that we are sinful. He Himself confronts us, faces us, and shows us the end of our sin and cowardice – His death on the cross. AND HE FORGIVES US!
There on the cross Jesus transforms us. He takes our sinful nature and nails it to the cross with him. He confronts us and transforms our cowardice into courage. The courage to receive forgiveness from the cross just as we are. The awful truth is that we cannot get our act together first before we face Jesus. We cannot first become good before we confront Jesus. Jesus will not have it. He refuses to accept us after we’ve cleaned ourselves up. Jesus wants to confront us JUST AS WE ARE. Why? BECAUSE JESUS DOES NOT WANT TO PRAISE US; HE WANTS TO FORGIVE US. And there on the cross we receive forgiveness for our sin. Forgiveness that comes to us through His Word and through His Sacraments. And the irony of this is that we cannot first become good before we receive His forgiveness; we first have to receive his forgiveness and then we become good. But, you ask, what do you mean, “good”? I still sin, I am still greedy, I am still covetous, my mind is still full of filth. Never mind. For whenever we hear His Word and receive His Sacraments, Jesus forgives us. And on and on and on until we die. And when we finally face God, we might even be surprised, because, hey, there is a resemblance! Like the Son we, sinful sons and daughters of God, have become like the Father! But that is not because of us. That’s because of Christ, who accepted us JUST AS WE ARE. Herman Sasse, in his meditation on Luther’s last words, “We are beggars. This is true,” says:
“Christ dwells only with sinners.” For the sinner and for the sinner alone is His table set. There we receive His true body and His true blood “for the forgiveness of sins” and this holds true even if forgiveness has already been received in Absolution. That here Scripture is completely on the side of Luther needs no further demonstration. Every page of the New Testament is indeed testimony of the Christ whose proper office it is “to save sinners”, “to seek and to save the lost”. And the entire saving work of Jesus, from the days when He was in Galilee and, to the amazement and alarm of the Pharisees, ate with tax collectors and sinners; to the moment when he, in contradiction with the principles of every rational morality, promised paradise to the thief on the cross, yes, His entire life on earth, from the cradle to the Cross, is one, unique grand demonstration of a wonder beyond all reason: The miracle of divine forgiveness, of the justification of the sinner. “Christ dwells only in sinners.”
The last words of Luther were: “We are beggars. This is true.” Which is to say, we are always in need of Christ’s treasure, the forgiveness of sins. Now I say to you, we are cowards. This is true. We always need Christ’s courage, the courage to face the Crucified JUST AS WE ARE: sinful, unclean, so that we may receive from his bloody hands grace, forgiveness and life. We are cowards. This is most certainly true. This is most certainly for you.
May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen. (Philippians 4:7)


*I took the liberty of revising Luther’s last words: “We are beggars. This is true.”
** Michael Spencer, When I Am Weak

The Lord's Mighty Act

The Fifth Sunday After Pentecost

Ezekiel 2:1-5
2 Corinthians 12:1-10
Mark 6:1-13

Grace to you and peace from God, our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. (Romans 1:7)
One of the most painful things, I believe, that a person can experience, is rejection, when people refuse to believe what you say. I have experienced this, and I think a lot of you have, too. Often, it is because the news we tell is hard to believe, something which people have to see for themselves before they can accept the truth of what we say. The Lord had this same experience:
He went away from there and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. And on the Sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astonished, saying, "Where did this man get these things? What is the wisdom given to him? How are such mighty works done by his hands? Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?"
Well, can we blame Jesus’ townmates, his childhood buddies, the people he grew up with? I would not doubt that, growing up, the Lord, as a child, as a teen, and as a young man, got into trouble, and got his share of trouble while growing up. Anne Rice, the author of the Vampire Chronicles, suggests that one of the things Jesus’ relatives and friends wondered about him was his refusal to marry. In our Gospel text for today, Jesus’ townmates have a lot of questions as they sat listening to him: where did he get this learning? He did not go to a big city to learn from scholars. What is this wisdom given to him? He is so familiar with the scriptures. How are such mighty works done by his hands? He is an ordinary man, right? A carpenter. A carpenter! Why, his brothers are our friends! And his sisters live here with us in the same community! An ordinary man, but such an extraordinary mien!
And they took offense at him. And Jesus said to them, "A prophet is not without honor, except in his hometown and among his relatives and in his own household." And he could do no mighty work there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and healed them. And he marveled because of their unbelief.
And he could do no mighty work there, except heal a few people. It is truly a sad day in the life of our Lord, when he could do no mighty work because the hearts of his countrymen were filled with unbelief. His townmates, childhood buddies, friends, have a lot of questions, but they are the wrong ones, for the nature of all their questions is one: unbelief. They would not believe. And so, they not only reject the Lord, they also reject his Word, which is the promise of salvation to everyone who believes. And as an indictment against these people who would not believe, St. Mark offers these few words: “And he marveled because of their unbelief.”
MALADY
Do you think that the Lord would feel the same way about us in our time? Do you think that there are still times when the Lord is saddened because people would not believe? Well, noy just any people, but you yourselves. Are there times when we become like Jesus’ townmates, when we ourselves refuse to believe the Word of the Lord? And so, when the Lord, through his pastor, announces the Good News of the forgiveness of your sins, you do not believe that a simple Word can indeed absolve you of your sins. You do not rejoice in that Word. When the Lord proclaims to you his Law and his Gospel through the sermon, you do not listen; you do not believe. You would not believe that a simple Word can give you life everlasting. You simply wait for the sermon to end so that we can continue with the motions of worship. When we partake of the true body and blood of our Savior in the Sacrament of Holy Communion, do you believe that ordinary bread and a drop or two of wine can grant you forgiveness, life? When an infant is brought here in front of all of us to be baptized, do you believe in the Word the Lord says at that time? Do you believe that a simple Word, a sprinkle of water, will save that child from certain death and damnation to the eternal fires of hell? No. You do not believe. Because of sin. Because of sin, we fail to believe in the Word of the Lord. We fail to find comfort and strength in his absolution, in his Sacraments. We cannot believe that these simple things can be instruments, means of the Lord’s mighty acts in our lives. Because of our unbelief, the Lord could do no mighty acts in our lives. And once more, the Lord marvels at our unbelief.
GOSPEL
But the Lord was able to do a mighty act – not in his hometown, no. But somewhere else: on a hill called Golgotha. On that hill, the Lord ended the reign of sin, death and Satan in our lives. On that hill the Lord rendered powerless the power of death. How? When the Lord of life hung on a cross. Once more, the Lord of Life is faced with sadness in his life, probably his greatest sadness: to die on a cross as a common criminal, despised and rejected by the very people he loves. A sad day indeed, but not for us. For us, that first Good Friday is a day of victory, a day of triumph, for the Lord, on that day, was victorious over the powers of darkness and unbelief. For us, that day is a day of gladness, because by his death on the cross, the Lord is able to give us forgiveness, faith and life eternal. On that day. Because of his grace. On that hill blood was spilt. For us. Because of his grace.
And that grace continues to be efficacious, sufficient for us, even to this day, even in this hour. Everytime we gather to hear his Word and receive his Sacraments, we receive the benefits of Calvary – grace, forgiveness, life.
It may be that the Lord could do no mighty work on that one day in his life here on earth. He could do no mighty work in his own hometown for his townmates, his childhood friends, his relatives. But the one mighty work that he needed to do – for us – he did: he gave up his life, given unto death for the forgiveness of our sins, so that he may give us eternal life. The Lord’s mighty act: his death on the cross for the forgiveness of our sins. This is most certainly true. This is most certainly for you.
May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen. (Philippians 4:7)