The Text: Matthew 21:33-46

One of the things you might enjoy about the Pentecost Season is that churchgoers spend a lot of time listening to Jesus’ parables. Parables are a special way that Jesus teaches the people listening to him. Some are hard to unravel. Some make you squirm as you realise that he is speaking directly to you. Some seem to be able to speak one way to you and another way to someone else. That’s the beauty of listening to Jesus’ parables.  There is always something new that you get out of them.

In a sense, Jesus uses the parables like a mirror. He did that last week to the chief priests and elders with his parable of the two sons working in the vineyard. And he does it today in the parable of the disobedient tenants. Sometimes it is hard to point out a person’s wrongdoing. But using an indirect illustrative story, that is, a parable, is one way of helping someone see themselves being described so that they may see their wrongdoing.

In the Old Testament, God used the prophet Nathan to do exactly that. Up to that point, King David had refused to accept that he has done something wrong in committing adultery with Bathsheba. Instead of accepting his wrongdoing, he has Bathsheba’s husband killed in battle so he could legally marry her. Nathan presented a parable before King David about a wealthy landowner who steals his neighbour’s family lamb to present as a meal for his guests, even though he had plenty his own sheep. King David was furious at that rich landowner, yet not realising that it was himself being described as he pronounced a just judgment on that tyrant. Nathan declared to King David – YOU are the man. He used the parable as a mirror for King David to see his own actions which he could not see on his own.

It is easy for us to justify our lives before God by declaring ourselves righteous saying – I haven’t killed anyone so I’ve never broken the 5th commandment. I haven’t stolen anything. I haven’t committed adultery. It’s like the man who came to Jesus one day to ask how to inherit eternal life. Jesus said: You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, you shall not defraud, honour your father and mother.’ “Teacher,” he declared, “all these I have kept since I was a boy.” Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” he said. “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” Jesus knew his heart and what to present for him to look at himself, like looking in a mirror.

When writing his Catechisms, Martin Luther said that God also uses the Law as a mirror, in particular the 10 Commandments. He explained what is referred to as the three uses of the law with the purpose of leading us to the Gospel pronouncing the forgiveness of our sins. He said that the First Use of the Law acts like a curb or a fence. It is the Law that is enacted by our governments to protect us. So, the commandments – you shall not steal – you shall not kill – these govern law and order. As citizens, we Christians follow them. If we break them, even though God forgives us, we are still punished by law. They are laws that God provides to give law and order and peaceful communities.

The Second Use of the Law is what is described as the Mirror. These are what we as Christians are to use to reflect on our lives. Like the young man claiming that he had kept all the commandments since he was a child, he was urged by Jesus to look again with Christ-like eyes. So when Jesus was asked what is the Greatest Commandment he answered – love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength – and love your neighbour as yourself. So as we reflect on the commandments and try to justify ourselves by saying – I haven’t killed anyone so I haven’t broken the fifth commandment, St John says in his First Letter (3:15) to look again: Anyone who hates a brother or sister is a murderer. Or if we say that we love God, John tells us to look again – If anyone says, “I love God,” yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen. Jesus says, anyone who looks at a woman with lust has committed adultery in their heart. So in its spiritual and primary use, the law acts like a mirror to remind us of our need for remission of sin in Jesus.

Just like King David, we often try to avoid our guilt. We are very good at making excuses or justifying what we did and why we did it. The problem with that is we then avoid hearing the comforting word of God’s forgiveness. But that is God’s desire for us. Jesus said – God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world but to save the world through him. God wants to love us – to forgive us – to wrap his loving arms around us to let us know of his grace for us. We hear Jesus weep when we keep trying to deal with our guilt, by our own means, just like King David and the Pharisees did: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing” says Jesus.

And we hear how heavy that guilt weighs upon us in King David’s Psalm 32: Blessed is the one whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the one whose sin the Lord does not count against them and in whose spirit is no deceit. When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy on me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord.” And you forgave the guilt of my sin. So the purpose of the Second Use of the Law is to drive us to Jesus Christ and his grace and forgiveness. We call that Justification.

And once we have been comforted by the Gospel, the Law takes on a new role in the life of the Christian – we call that Sanctification. Knowing that we have been saved by Grace. Knowing that the Law can no longer condemn us because of Christ – we are now free to explore the gift of God’s commandments to see how to live blessed lives. The reason I don’t commit murder is not because I’m afraid of the punishment of jail. The reason I don’t commit murder is not because I’m afraid of God’s judgment. Rather I don’t commit murder because I love God with all my heart and because I love my neighbour.

And that’s what Jesus is trying to teach through the parables. And it did the trick as Matthew points out: When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they realized that he was speaking about them. Now they are invited to repent and discover the freeing Gospel – but they unfortunately don’t: They wanted to arrest him.

St Paul knows all too well our human tendency to avoid accusations of wrongdoing. He wrote: ‘If anyone else has reason to be confident in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, a member of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ. More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.’

Even though, according to Paul’s own words, when it came to righteousness under the law he was blameless – he lacked knowing the grace of God because he had no need for it. But when he came to know Jesus Christ as his Lord, he found a different blessing from the law – not blamelessness, but forgiveness – as did King David. Not having a righteousness of his own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith.

If we try hard enough we can always find a good excuse or a reason for why we did something we shouldn’t have. But God wants us to come to him, not so he can condemn us and make us feel guilty but so he can free us from the guilt and burden; that same burden and guilt King David experienced when his bones were crushed by the weight of his sin. Maybe we have to face an earthly punishment when we confess, but what a freeing gift it is, knowing that God does not condemn us. Imagine how free the woman caught in adultery felt when Jesus said that all her accusers were gone and that he did not condemn her either, but to go and not let sin enslave her anymore. Or the woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears and dried them with her hair while righteous Simon the Pharisee ignored the needs of Jesus: And Jesus said to Simon: “Look at this woman kneeling here. When I entered your home, you didn’t offer me water to wash the dust from my feet, but she has washed them with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You didn’t greet me with a kiss, but from the time I first came in, she has not stopped kissing my feet. You neglected the courtesy of olive oil to anoint my head, but she has anointed my feet with rare perfume. I tell you, her sins—and they are many—have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love.” And Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

Let us not be afraid to come to Jesus and bring all our baggage with us. God sent his son into the world, not to condemn the world but to save the world through him. Go in peace – your faith has saved you.

Amen.

The Text: Matthew 21:23-32

“Who said you could do that?”

“Who says so?”

These are words of protest, accusation, and doubt, but they’re also words of rebellion. The person who usually asks these questions is challenging the authority of the other person. It’s a basic question of who’s in control; who’s the boss right here, right now.

As Australians, we typically like to challenge every authority. We like to disobey or question our parents, thinking we know better than them. We like to see how much we can get away with at work, like attempting to fool our bosses by taking sickies on long weekends (unless of course we don’t trust any other bosses and want to be self-employed). We flash our lights at oncoming traffic to ‘stick it’ to the police who may have a speed camera up ahead. We like to rubbish or lampoon our Prime Minister or parliamentarians. Basically, if anyone thinks they’re above us in any way, we’ll soon cut them down to size!

But when we do these things, we’re attempting to set ourselves up as our own authority, our own boss, or even our own little god who controls our own little world.

When we complain about our parents, our boss, our Prime Minister, or our pastor, we’re really complaining about God who placed them in their position of authority in the first place. They don’t even have to be Christian for God to place them there, after all, even Jesus tells Pontius Pilate he recognises his authority to crucify him (or not) because it was given to him from above (Jn 19:10-11).

In this sense, whenever we challenge or question those in authority over us, we’re challenging or questioning God’s authority, which brings us to the gospel reading for today.

Jesus had entered Jerusalem on a donkey and overturned the marketing tables in the temple. The local authorities (which were the chief priests and elders) came to challenge Jesus by asking whose authority he was doing these things. In other words, “We’re the local authority, and we reckon you have no authority here, so you better come up with your authorised credentials quickly or you’re in big trouble!”

He, in turn, asked them a question about authority. He wanted them to answer by who’s authority had John the Baptist been baptising people? Was he doing this with heavenly authority (which meant it was authorised by God), or was it from humans (which meant it was false, unauthorised, illegitimate, and therefore possibly evil)?

Now, as the local authority experts, they had the choice to back John’s baptisms as authorised by God himself (and therefore give their theological and pastoral blessing to it), or else reject it as false and evil. Since they hadn’t acted on stopping or getting rid of John earlier, you’d think they’d side with his baptisms being authorised by heaven (which many of the lay people believed it was), but they stopped short of doing this for one reason: fear!

The local authorities were afraid of the people and their opinions. Giving up their authority to say what was of God and what wasn’t, they now disqualified themselves from their position of authority. As disqualified leaders who lacked the courage to trust the work of God, Jesus wouldn’t entrust these people with the answer to their question.

When we’re afraid of what people will think of us and our faith, we’re often too afraid to listen to, and trust, God’s authority.

Because we’re afraid of what people will say, or think, or do to us, we give others a kind of fake authority which entraps us into more fear. Instead of letting God have the final authority and the last word on a matter, we listen to the opinions of others. When we’re afraid, we don’t listen to God properly. In response God will often challenge the authority of what we’re afraid of, but we often let our fears deceive us into a false sense of security.

Jesus goes on to teach these disqualified authorities through a parable of two sons – one who said ‘no’, but later obeyed his father’s authority, and the other who said ‘yes’, but then rebelled. He compared these two sons with two groups of people – the ‘tax-collectors and prostitutes’ who will enter the kingdom of heaven and the ‘chief priests and elders of the law’ who won’t.

One group lived rebellious lives but believed John’s and Jesus’ ministry and so acted accordingly in faith, while the other group did and said all the right things on the surface (and so seemed righteous in many people’s eyes, including their own), but didn’t believe their ministry was from God and therefore wouldn’t enter the kingdom.

But notice it wasn’t just faith itself (as if only believing in our own head or heart is enough), but a faith which trusted and acted according to what he or she believed, and so participated in the life and ministry of God’s authorised representatives.

“By what authority are you doing these things?”

Well, let’s see. Pastors, as called and ordained servants of the Word forgive us all our sins. In the stead of, and by the command of, Christ, they forgive us as Christ’s personal ambassadors. Of course, we could believe our own opinions or thoughts which might want to challenge those words. We could believe others who will keep reminding us of our failures or mistakes or regrets. Or you could trust when Jesus says we’re forgiven, we’re forgiven. He has the authority to forgive us and has passed on this heavenly privilege to his church, which is enacted through its authorised servants.

Similarly, at the end of Matthew’s gospel account we hear Jesus has been given all authority and now hands this authority to the church to baptise and teach. We enact this heavenly authority whenever we baptise people.

Whenever we celebrate the Lord’s Supper Christ’s words are repeated and Christ’s authority is enacted. Here again God’s word does what it says so that the bread and wine we eat and drink is also the very body and blood of Christ himself given for us for the forgiveness of sins and the strengthening of our faith.

Of course we could believe our own opinions about this meal and think it only a symbolic reenactment, or on the other hand we could trust Jesus’ authority to share with us his very own body and blood for us, which means heaven itself, in all its fullness, touches us here.

You see, it’s not just by whose authority we’re doing all these things, but how this authority is enacted. In the reading from Philippians this morning we hear how Jesus didn’t use his authority to lord it over you and me, but he emptied himself and became a suffering servant to do his Father’s will.

He trusted and obeyed his Father’s authority by enduring the cruel cross and dying for you and me. You could say he’s unlike the sons in the parable. He’s never changed his mind – his answer has always been, and always will be, a ‘yes’ for you and me – both in intention and in action.

Jesus Christ always exercises his heavenly rule and authority according to the upside-down ways of God’s kingdom for us. He comes as a servant for our sake. He serves us by forgiving us, washing us clean, adopting us as his brothers and sisters, feeding us with his own body and blood, teaching us his ways, and blesses us in order that we may also serve as his own authorized, humble servants wherever he’s placed us.

He’s given us the authority to serve – to faithfully serve as a child, a parent, a citizen, or a boss, under the authority of God. Like Christ himself, we don’t use this authority to rule, but to serve humbly in such a way we don’t think of ourselves as better than anyone else, but as if others are better than us. Because we’re united with the suffering Servant, we don’t look for ways to serve our own interests, but we instead serve the interest of others.

This means, instead of thinking ‘What’s in it for me?’ we may instead think ‘How may I best serve you today?’

Don’t be like those who grumble about those in authority above them, or like those who seek to deceive out of fear, but let your ‘yes’ mean ‘yes’ and your ‘no’ mean ‘no’ as we all submit ourselves under the authority of God to serve each other in humbleness and grace. And the peace of God, which surpasses all human understanding, which will guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Matthew 20:1-16

If you follow any code of football, you will know that it’s the season for the
finals – and usually there is also a ‘best and fairest’ medal count. During the
medal count, fans watch in suspense as points are tallied up, match-by-
match, until finally a winner is declared. Occasionally there is some big news in the weeks leading up to the medal count when the favourite for the ‘best and fairest’ medal is penalized by the tribunal for rough conduct and is rubbed out of contention for the medal. “It’s not fair!” the fans will complain.
If that’s not fair, then try and imagine the complaints there would be if a
footballer who had played only a few games at the end of the season was
also awarded top points and the ‘best and fairest’ medal. “It’s not fair!” the
fans would complain. The ‘best and fairest’ medal is awarded on the basis of
a match-by-match accumulation of points. You have to play the games –
and play well in all the games – to get the prize.

That may be a situation very much like Jesus’ parable of the workers in the
vineyard. In Jesus parable, workers were hired at different times during the
day and therefore expected to be paid for the hours they worked, but when
pay time came, all the workers received the same amount. The ones who
had worked only one hour received as much as those who had worked all
day in the heat of the sun.

It is not surprising that they accused the boss of being unfair. These workers
were operating with the common assumption that people must get what
they deserve; the wages must match the work. At one stage, even Jesus
had said to his disciples, “A worker should be given his pay” (Luke 10:7), but
here is the same Jesus telling a story that seems totally unfair. He’s using it as
an example of how the Heavenly Father rewards people who come into his
kingdom at different stages of their life. He rewards them all with the same
gift, regardless of their time in his kingdom.

Hearing such things may appeal to our inner sense of justice, especially in
matters where our own welfare is concerned. We see it in children when
they compare what they have received with what others have received
and say, “That’s not fair!” We see it in adults who cast an envious eye over
what others have and say, either openly or inwardly, “That’s not fair!”

Maybe you’ve felt it also in your life as a Child of God. Hearing this parable
may even invoke feelings of “That’s not fair!” How fair is it to think of a person who has lived a wicked or wayward life, making a deathbed repentance
and receiving the same gifts from God as the faithful church member who
has ‘borne the heat of the day’, serving God all his life, sacrificing himself,
taking up his cross and following Jesus? “How come he gets the same
reward?” you may ask. “That’s not fair!”

To understand Jesus parable properly we need to see beyond what seems
to be the injustice of God and understand that it is also a parable about the
generosity or amazing grace of God which is available to all people.
If we human beings really want to take up the matter of the justice of God,
then we’re in for a rude shock. If God really did what was fair or just, no one
would receive any reward for God. We are all sinners and none of us deserve his love, his forgiveness or his gift of eternal life. As Paul wrote to the Romans, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom.3:23). What
we rightly or justly deserve is his punishment, not his reward. If we’re
interested in justice, that would be fair.

But God is interested in more than justice. He is also very loving and
generous. That’s why he sent his only Son Jesus Christ to live a perfectly
good life in our place and to die, also in our place, for our sins. Jesus did
that to satisfy the demands of God’s justice. He did it so we could be
‘justified’, put back into a right relationship with God. I don’t think too many
Christians would say, “That’s not fair!” to that.

That’s because everything we receive from God is a gift. The spiritual
blessings we receive are never to be considered a wage, but a free gift. As
Paul also wrote to the Romans: The only wage we deserve is death; but the
free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rom.6:23). We have
received God’s gift of love, forgiveness and eternal life, not because we
have worked for it, but because God is so generous. It is not something we
earn like ‘best and fairest medal’ points, or wages.

In Jesus’ parable, the employer said that he gave the workers whom he had
hired last the same amount because he wanted to and because he had a
right to do as he wished with his own money. In God’s kingdom, he gives all
people his love, forgiveness, and eternal life simply because he is generous.
He wants to and has a right to hand out his grace and love as freely as he
wishes.

No one in God’s kingdom should ever need to feel cheated because they
have worked harder for their spiritual blessings than another. Instead we
should learn to rejoice that God’s love and forgiveness is great enough to
give even the worst of sinners who have lived the wickedest of lives, the gift
of eternal life. We should learn to rejoice that God’s gifts of forgiveness, life
and eternal salvation are available to all who are led to trust in Jesus, right up untill their dying breath. We should learn to rejoice because we have
received those gifts, even though we don’t deserve them.

It is good news that the sacrifice Jesus made on the cross for sinners was big
enough to save the worst of sinners in the latest of deathbed repentances.
Like the angels in heaven, we should learn to rejoice at their salvation rather
than falling into the trap of thinking, “That’s not fair!”

Whether we were baptised as an infant and led a faithful Christian life for 80
years or more, or whether we repent on our deathbed after a shameful life,
we still have reason to rejoice in the generosity of God and in his gift of
forgiveness, life, and salvation.

Just as the workers hired first had agreed on their reward when hired (v.13),
we who become Christians early in our life also know what Christ offers us. At
the end of our life he gives us no less than he had promised and he will give
us no more because he has promised us all he has to give. He has held nothing back. So, instead of feeling, “That’s not fair!” or seeing the Christian life as some sort of medal count, let’s learn to rejoice, first of all, in what Christ has promised us in our baptismal covenant right at the beginning of our Christian life: his free gift of forgiveness, new life and eternal salvation. Let’s treasure and nurture that gift as we ‘bear the heat of the day’ – offering our lives as living sacrifices in service of God and others.

Let’s also learn to rejoice that God’s love is generous enough, and Jesus’
sacrifice on the cross is big enough, to offer that love and forgiveness to
anyone who turns away from their sin and puts their trust in Jesus, at
whatever stage in their life.

It wasn’t really fair that Jesus, who did no wrong, should have been punished
for what we did, but he did it for us. Now he gives freely and generously of
his love and forgiveness to all who turn from sin and put their trust in him. I
think we all have to admit, “That’s fair!” and praise God for his glorious grace.
Amen.
And may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our
hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

The Text: Matthew 18:15-20
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ.
We’re all in the same boat. In one sense that’s quite literally what it means to be part of the church. We share a common situation. Despite our many differences, there are some important things that we all share. For instance we share the fact that we’re all going to die one day. We have that in common with all people.
We’re all sinners. That’s another thing that we have in common with all people. We belong to the church because God has graciously and mercifully gathered us in.
That’s something that we have in common with each other, and which is available to all people, although they might not know that God wants to gather them also.
We’re all in the same boat, which is God’s church. It’s a classic image. That classic image of the church is of a ship, like Noah’s ark, a life boat. That’s why the main part
of the church occupied by the congregation is called the nave. That name is
related to words like naval and navy since the church is a ship. It’s a kind of life raft.
We’re all in the same boat, because God has brought us into the church, and it’s helpful to acknowledge that and think about that.
For example, we could reflect on what people in a lifeboat have in common. Now the point of common ground with people in a life raft is not that they’re good enough in some way, but rather that they need to be rescued and protected from the waters of destruction. People in life rafts don’t get to choose who they have in the boat with them. This is helpful in reminding us that the church is a rescue vessel.
It’s full of people that God has hauled in. It’s full of people who need God’s love, mercy and forgiveness. Or, to put it another way, the church is full of sinners, with no exceptions. That’s one of the important things that we all have in common in the
church.
If we have that in mind we can more easily understand and take to heart what
Jesus says in today’s gospel lesson. We shouldn’t be surprised that sinners sin. That’s what they do. Sometimes the sin of someone else in the church will be hurtful or obvious to us. Jesus deals with the question of what do we do when a brother or a sister in Christ sins against us, or when we become aware of a brother or sister sinning. Jesus gives a gracious approach since we’re together in this lifeboat for the long haul and no one is supposed to get lost. Jesus gives us a way of moving forward since we’re stuck with each other and no one is supposed to fall out or be pushed out. Jesus gives a template for restoring relationships, for reconciling people, and his approach describes being proactive, has a strong bias towards forgiveness, and calls for patience and discretion.
In the large Catechism, Luther refers to these verses when he talks about not
bearing false witness against your neighbour. Luther understands that Jesus is ruling out and opposing all gossiping and backstabbing. He says “Let this be your rule, then, that you should not be quick to spread slander and gossip about your neighbour but admonish them privately so that they may amend. Likewise, if someone should whisper to you what this or that person has done, teach them, if they saw the wrongdoing, to go and reprove the person in person, otherwise to hold their tongue.” An important point of graciousness here is to maintain our brother or sister’s honour while correcting them. If they listen to you, you’ve gained your brother or sister. Then you’ll have done a great and excellent work. It’s really amazing that Jesus has put this precious healing gift – his forgiveness – into our hands.
Jesus’ concern for correctness according to the law is secondary to his concern for union with one another in him. That becomes obvious when we look at what he says in this text, and in the texts around it in Matthew’s gospel.
Just before this teaching, on what to do about a Christian brother or sister who
might sin against us, Jesus powerfully declares how precious everyone is to his heavenly Father. Just after this text Jesus teaches about forgiving without limit, since we are forgiven beyond measure. Then we have our text, which starts off with the quietest and most personal approach to restoring relationships.
The goal is restoration. First there is the discrete, personal approach. If that
approach is exhausted without success, then a couple of other trusted people may be involved. Only if that attempt is exhausted without success is the congregation involved as a whole. The goal is for restoration, forgiveness, building up. There’s certainly no rush to cut people off, and we know that Gentiles and tax collectors were certainly not beyond the reach of forgiving love. Even at the end of all the options for talking sense, if it gets to that, the door is not closed.
Jesus’ means for us to always take the default position that we are brothers and sisters in his love, rather than enemies. Doors are to be opened rather than closed.
Bridges are to be built rather than fences and barriers.
If a fellow Christian sins against us, they are an erring brother or sister, not an enemy, and forgiveness is available to them, just as we are freely and richly forgiven.
Forgiveness is available to restore relationships, and to build unity and fellowship again. Jesus urges us to see a brother or a sister rather than an enemy. In fact he urges us all to see one another as we are – sinners who are dearly loved, who are precious to God, who are forgiven.
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, remember that you are also sinners. We all stink of sin and death. It’s only because of the cleansing, freshening, life giving effect of Christ that we can live together at all. But not only can we live together, in Christ’s name we can do more than anyone would imagine, given who we are. In our sinfulness we’re no different from anyone else in the church, nor indeed from anyone outside the church. By God’s boundless favour we’ve been lifted into this lifeboat, this fellowship that exists thanks to Christ’s reconciling love.
We’re all in the same boat together with our gracious Lord, Jesus Christ. We’re
sinners who are freely forgiven for Jesus’ sake. God has given us the opportunity to know and experience the life-giving love of God in Christ Jesus. He honours us as guests at his table. We’re loved without limit and freely forgiven. God gives us the opportunity to show that love and forgiveness to each other, so that others might see and know the wonderful, gracious life and love that God is eager to share.
The peace of God which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

The text: Matthew 16:21–28

What is the price of life?
Well, I suppose that might depend on the context of the question.

If you were asked by a life insurance salesman what the price of life is, he would usually value it as the sum of your financial commitments and the price of setting your loved ones up without those commitments; therefore, the price of life will vary by age.

For example, if you were 10 years old, you wouldn’t have any financial commitments, so, therefore, you wouldn’t need very much life insurance cover, if any at all.

But if you were 40 years old, with a mortgage and car loan, and have a spouse and two children, then your life insurance cover should be for at least these commitments, plus a very generous amount so that your family could live comfortably without any need to take out any other loans etc.

Yet if you were 70 years old, and no longer have any financial commitments or family to support, then your need for life insurance reduces again.

So, what is the price of life according to a life insurance salesman? It is the calculated cost of liabilities and perceived needs to cover any loss of life.

But what if a mother dies in an accident? What is the price of life then? How is it measured?

Well, the family may receive a payment from a life insurance company, but no matter how much money they receive, it never makes up for the life of a wife and mother. The same could be said for the loss of a father or the loss of a child. The price of life in this case can’t be calculated financially. Money, property or anything else is almost useless and empty of comfort and meaning.

The Beatles sang that ‘money can’t buy me love’, but it also can’t buy or replace life. It’s strange that at the time of death, the value of life suddenly crystallises: family is important, relationships are important, people are important. A lifetime chasing after money, property, fame or other worldly attractions is suddenly put into perspective. None of these things are important when a life is lost. Any time spent chasing after these things is seen as time wasted.

What if a death was the result of an accident or a murder?

Then the price of life will often change, and it becomes possible to calculate the price of life again. The price of life is justice or revenge. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a life for a life!

If someone hurts us, then we want to hurt them back with interest. If someone takes away a loved one, then we want them to receive the same punishment, or worse, if possible!

But even if we were to have someone receive every punishment we wished them to receive, would that really make things better? Would revenge bring our loved one back? Would we ever be truly happy with the payment? Would the price of revenge or justice be payment enough for our loved one’s life? We often discover that even with revenge, the price of life still remains immeasurable.

So, even though the cost of life for insurance is often calculated financially, and the cost of life when someone has taken away a loved one is often justice or revenge, the price of life often can’t be calculated.

Knowing the price of your life can’t be estimated or valued by any earthly measurements, how much would your eternal life be worth? If you struggle to name a large enough price for the life of your loved ones who you have known for only a few years, then how on earth do you calculate the price for their eternal life, or even your own eternal life? If, at the time of death, you suddenly realise all things on earth are almost worthless when compared with the life of loved ones, then how much are you willing to pay or give up to ensure you will receive that eternal life with Jesus and your loved ones in faith?

Your eternal life is beyond price. Even if you were to give up your whole life and everything you have, it wouldn’t be enough. Nothing you say, think or do will pay for or measure the cost of your eternal life. Even if you gave up everything you have, it still wouldn’t be enough. The price for your life, especially for your eternal life, is too high … at least for you.

But the price of your life, even your eternal life, has been measured. Your price is the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. That is how much your life is worth. It’s a price you can’t pay; yet Jesus has willingly paid the full price. The suffering and death of God’s own beloved Son is your price for life. It was necessary for him to go to Jerusalem, to suffer many things, to die and rise again so that your relationship with God would be restored. It was necessary he did these things, because this is the price of your lives and the price for God’s justice.

Yet what many people misunderstand is that even though Jesus has paid the full price for their lives, there is a cost involved for us. The cost is your obedience, yet don’t think that the price you pay in your obedience actually contributes or makes up for the suffering and death of Jesus, or that what you do actually earns you ‘brownie’ points before God.

Jesus has paid the full price for your eternal life. There is nothing more to pay. Your obedience doesn’t pay for your lives or the lives of others in any way, shape or form, but there is a danger you can exchange this undeserving gift for other fleeting worldly things through your disobedience.

For example, if you try to deny Jesus and what he has done for you by living according to the world’s thinking, then you will forfeit your eternal life. You can’t gain eternal life by your obedience, but you can lose it by your disobedience, because your disobedience shows your rejection of Christ and the life-price he paid for you. You can live as if worldly things are more important and more valuable, or you can live as if your eternal life is more important and more valuable. There is no in-between.

If you lose your life for Jesus’ sake, dedicate yourselves to following him, deny the deceptive advice of this world, follow God’s guiding word, and obey his instructions for life, then you will enjoy the blessings of eternal life in heaven.

Since the payment for your life involved sacrifice on the cross, your own life of following Jesus also involves a cross. The crosses you bear as you follow Jesus are the crosses of sacrifice and suffering on account of your following Jesus.

Paul’s letter to the Romans gives us an example of what this means. He says hate what is evil; hold onto what is good; be patient in your troubles; pray at all times; share your belongings with needy believers; open your homes to strangers; bless those who persecute you; weep with those who weep; don’t be proud but accept humble duties; don’t pay back wrong for wrong; don’t take revenge; and so on.

Following Jesus into eternal life is not easy and glorious. It often means living in a way that is different from others around you. It means being obedient to God’s word, even if you don’t fully understand the reasons for his instructions. It means giving up precious time on earth to listen to Jesus speak to you. It means giving up your need to satisfy yourselves with money, possessions, fame and other wants. It means giving up living the way you want to for your own pleasure, and trying to live Jesus’ way of service and sacrifice.

Following Jesus also means you will be persecuted and insulted for living according to Jesus’ way and not the world’s. You will not always ‘fit in’. The world will try to set the agenda as to what is acceptable and right, but this will not be the same as what Jesus says. The people of this world will continue to gain a name or a profit for themselves, but you will live unselfishly and in humbleness as you follow Jesus. You must obey God and not the world; after all, the things of the world will not last and will actually lead you away from Jesus and the life he has gained for you.

Therefore, let us heed the words of hymn 336 in the Lutheran Hymnal, which says:

Then let us follow Christ, our Lord,

Bearing the cross appointed,

And, firmly clinging to His Word,

In suffering be undaunted.

Who will not bear the battle’s strain

The crown of life shall ne’er obtain.

What is the price of life? The suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The price for your life has been measured and paid in full. Even though you do not measure up, Jesus willingly allowed himself to suffer and die for you. Jesus paid the price of your disobedience by his obedience. He remained sinless to save those who are sinful. In other words, he suffered and died for your life.

Your own journey as you follow Jesus will also involve suffering and a dying to your own selfish desires, but it will also lead to eternal life with Jesus and all others who follow in faith.

The peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

The text: Matthew 16:13–20
Today we are faced with the most important question in life that any human being will ever have to answer: Just who is Jesus? Our Lord asks us that very question in our text – the fact that he asks it twice shows its importance. ‘Who do the people say that the Son of Man is?’
The disciples answer: ‘Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’ Some people thought that Jesus was John the Baptist, who had come to prepare the way for the Saviour. Others thought Jesus was one of many Old Testament prophets who had promised a Saviour would come. The people had many different ideas of who Jesus was, but none of them recognised Jesus’ divine nature. The religious leaders of the day even believed the opposite, claiming Jesus’ power was from the devil because he ate with sinners and did not give ‘good’ people their due recognition but challenged the religious establishment. Some thought he was a great teacher or a perfect example to
follow. That’s some of the things people say about Jesus today. Most people today believe Jesus existed – but they have very different ideas about his identity, such as the Christadelphians, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Muslims or Jews. They believe in Jesus; that is, they believe some historical truths about him. But James reminds us in a very chilling way that we are not to have a kind of historical belief in Jesus. James writes to the Jewish Christians scattered throughout the empire, and in chapter 2 of his letter says: ‘You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that
– and shudder’.
So Jesus says to the disciples: ‘Who do you say I am?’ He asks us that question too.
Peter answers, ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God’. The other answers had talked about a Saviour who was coming. But Peter saw Jesus as the Saviour who was right there with him in the present moment. Peter looked at Jesus and saw God standing before him; the living Lord who became truly human like us to be the
sacrifice to pay for the sin of the world, and to defeat death itself by rising from it.
Peter doesn’t just believe things about Jesus, he trusts in Jesus as his saving Lord in the present moment.
‘Who do you say that I am?’ Through today’s gospel reading Jesus is still asking that same question to you and me. ‘Who do you say that I am?’ Be careful how you answer! Jesus isn’t just asking: ‘Do you think I’m alive?’ Jesus wants to know: ‘Am I the living Lord of your life?’ There is a difference between believing things about Jesus, and trusting in him as the Lord of your life. ‘Who do you say that I am?’ Jesus asks. ‘Am I indeed the living Lord of your life? Or am I just some ancient dead guy whose body disintegrated long ago in the sands of Palestine?’
Jesus doesn’t only call us to believe stuff about him, but to daily trust in him as our saving God. There is a difference between believing things about Jesus and trusting in Jesus as the ever-present living Lord of every moment of our life. Luther’s explanation to the first commandment ‘You shall have no other gods’ attends to this distinction: ‘We are to fear (respect), love and trust God above anything else’.
This is an important point for all the commandments are related to this one. How we regard the commandments as God’s word and will, then, will reveal the level of regard we have for Jesus.
I think that one of our strengths as Lutherans is our focus on grace – that there is nothing a person can do to make themselves right with God or earn his love or forgiveness; that he loves us unconditionally and he has paid for our sins – through Christ alone. There is nothing I could do that would change his love for me.
Perhaps one of our weaknesses as Lutherans is our focus on grace – that is, when grace is our only focus. Perhaps we read ‘there is nothing I could do that would change God’s love for me’ as meaning ‘there is nothing I need to do’. Perhaps we hear that God loves us unconditionally and has saved us by grace as meaning ‘It really doesn’t then matter how I live’. But when we forget God’s law, we forget the specific ways in which we as humans sin. We fall into the temptation of explaining away our sin. ‘I was just having a bad day’ or ‘They deserved it’. Or we might relabel our wrongdoing in more acceptable language – for example, harmful gossip becomes ‘helpful information’, and jokes that put others down are ‘just a bit of fun’, while those who are offended should just lighten up – even though through the eighth commandment God calls us to defend the reputation of our brothers and sisters, congregational leaders, and even our pastors, whether they be in conversation down the street, our discussions around the kitchen table, or at a public meeting, and to explain their actions in the kindest possible way.
When we lose a correct focus on the gospel by focusing only on the gospel, we
can easily slip into the habit of justifying our sinful thoughts, words and deeds by explaining how it doesn’t matter if we’ve broken God’s commandments – and even to say they don’t apply to us in particular situations. As someone said to me recently: ‘I know it’s wrong, but …’ And I felt like saying, ‘You were going really well there until you said “but”’.
When we fall into this temptation, I think we risk regarding Jesus as little more than John the Baptist or one of the prophets, because, if we explain away our sin, we forget how urgently we need Jesus’ saving help. We make a Saviour out of ourselves by justifying ourselves. Today, Jesus asks us, in effect: ‘Who am I in your life? Even though you call me “Lord”, am I really Lord of your life?

The Text: Matthew 15:21-28

She was desperate. You could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. The urgency, the fear verging on panic, the despair. Her little girl was suffering from demon possession.
We don’t know more than that. How long had it been? What were the symptoms?
But our idle curiosity will not be satisfied. Matthew tells us only as much as we need to know. She was a desperate Canaanite woman seeking help for her daughter. Jesus was in town. He’d gone to the coast with His disciples, to the region of Tyre and Sidon on the Mediterranean. This wasn’t Israelite territory, it was Canaanite land. Ca- naanites were named after the descendants of Cain, the son of Adam who had mur- dered his brother, Abel. Canaanites were those people that were supposed to have been purged from the land under Joshua. Israelites hated Canaanites. The animosity was mutual. The Israelites called the Canaanites “dogs.” ‘Filthy dogs’, if you really wanted to drive home the point. We don’t know what the Canaanites called the Israelites.
She heard that Jesus had come to town. She’d heard the reports that were going around about His power to heal and cast out demons. There was a faint ray of hope.
She sees Jesus and goes running after Him, crying out, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Son of David is an Israelite way of speaking. The Israelites knew that the messiah would come from the house of David to establish his throne. Son of David, she called Jesus. A Canaanite speaking like an Israelite. Maybe if Jesus mistook her for one of His own countrymen he would help her.
It’s kind of clever, actually. Talk like an Israelite and maybe Jesus will do you a favour.
Some people think in those terms. Do you? Some people try to transact with God in prayer, trying to negotiate a favour. Do you? People like to get all “religious” when they pray. Pile on those religious phrases higher and deeper, thinking God will be im- pressed and do what you ask. Do you?
Jesus meets her pleas with stony silence. “He did not answer her a word.” Nothing. Silence. And she keeps on calling out to Him, over and over again. “Son of David, have mercy on me. Son of David, have mercy on me. Son of David, have mercy on
me.” To the point where the disciples who are with Jesus say, “Lord, she’s driving us nuts. Tell her to get out of here!”
What would you have done? Jesus, your last hope, greets you with silence. He turns His back on you in your need. He turns a deaf ear to your heartfelt prayer. He slams the door in your face, and His friends give you a kick for good measure. What would you have done? Left? Maybe shoot an obscene gesture? Go and find another healer, another religion, or at least another congregation? What do you do with this sort of Jesus?
And then Jesus speaks. He doesn’t really speak to her directly. He just speaks, reminding her of who she is, and who she isn’t. “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.”
Ouch! It doesn’t get much harsher than that, does it? Sorry, I’m busy. Sorry, I’m not here for you. Sorry, you’ll have to go somewhere else, I can’t be bothered with you and your problems. If His silence didn’t do the trick, that should have settled it for this woman. It’s a dead end. Jesus isn’t going to help you.
But she keeps persisting and pressing and praying. She comes up to Jesus, this man
 who had just said He hadn’t come for her, and she kneels down at His feet. “Lord, help me.” No more Son of David pseudo-Israelite talk. Just a simple prayer for mercy:
Lord, help me. It doesn’t get more basic than that. No religious fluff, no charades.
Jesus seems unmoved, hard, cold, uncaring. “It’s not right,” He says. “It’s not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” His silence was bad enough. His harsh statement about His being sent only to the lost sheep of Israel was even worse.
But this was worst of all. A dog. He called her a dog. A “little doggie,” yes, but a dog, nonetheless. She’d heard that slur in the marketplace, on the street corner, from the mouths of the Israelite men as they spit. But from Jesus?
And what about this Jesus? What do you think of Him? What would you have done if He called you a dog in your hour of need? This isn’t the kind of compassionate Saviour we picture in our minds and our hymns and our art. This Jesus is mean, uncaring, un moved. This woman isn’t even asking anything for herself, she’s asking for her helpless little girl. The only thing that Jesus seems to notice is that she isn’t an Israelite.
But she is undeterred. She won’t let Jesus off the hook that easily. His calling her a dog gives her the opening she is looking for. “Yes, Lord, Canaanite dog I may be. Call me whatever you wish. It’s true, there’s no way around that. I’m a dog. I’ll accept that.
Yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters ’table.”
Did you hear that? Did you catch that unreasonable line of reasoning? She accepts Jesus’ word on her, that she’s nothing more than a yapping dog bugging Him on His way and that He really wasn’t even sent to the likes of her, and yet she finds in all that a handhold for faith. Even the dogs get to lick the crumbs off the floor. And what glo- rious and wonderful crumbs they are when they fall from this Master’s table!
The next word from Jesus is praise. He loves it. This is music to His ears. Faith talk! Trust!
“O woman, great is your faith.” No longer as a dog, now Jesus addresses her with dignity and respect. “O woman.” He commends her faith, in the hearing of HIs disciples who do not yet understand faith. They think they’re the big men hanging out with Je-
sus. They don’t get it. She does. Faith clings to Jesus even when Jesus seems to have turned His back on you. Faith clings to Jesus even when He looks you in the eye and says, “I haven’t come for you.” Faith clings to Jesus even when He calls you a dog.
Faith hears “yes” inside of God’s “no” and trusts. Faith holds Jesus to who He is Saviour and Redeemer. O woman, great is your faith.
This is not meant to get you to look at your faith and size up your believing. It’s intended to get your eyes off yourself and onto Jesus. Your faith is only as good and as strong as the Jesus it clings to. The woman’s faith, her trust in Jesus, was vindicated.
“Let it be done for you as you desire.” He is for her, and for her daughter, after all.
Though she’s a Canaanite, yet through faith she is a daughter of Abraham, as Paul explains in Romans. Jesus is Son of David, even for her. His Word is solid and sure. Her daughter was healed instantly.
Prayer isn’t like instant porridge. Some get put on hold. But when God puts you on hold, as Jesus put that poor woman on hold, it doesn’t mean He has abandoned you.
It might mean that Jesus wants to put your faith on display so that the world would understand what faith in Jesus looks like. It looks like a dog lapping up crumbs falling from the master’s table. And if that comes as a blow to your ego, good! Our ego, that old Adam in us, needs that. We call it repentance, that change in mind from self to God.
There really is no shortcut to faith like that of the Canaanite woman. There is only going off-road with Jesus, together with all the twists and turns that life under His cross entails. It may be the surprise of sickness, or demonized daughters, or silence, or a harsh “no”, or being humbled. It may mean waiting patiently for the resurrection while feeling like a dog most of the time. To the world’s way of looking at things, life under the cross of Jesus can be a dog’s life, but the crumbs that fall from that table are rich in-
deed His Body and Blood giving you forgiveness, life, and salvation. A dog never had it so good.
In the name of Jesus,
Amen

The Text: Matthew 14:22-33
Dear heavenly Father, send your Holy Spirit on us so when facing storms in our life,
we may have courage and not be afraid knowing your Son Jesus Christ is with us.Amen.
There are some things you can do.
There are some things you can’t do.
And sometimes they’re the same thing!
Now, before you think I’m talking in riddles (and perhaps I am), I’d like you to think how many times Jesus tells his disciples to do things they shouldn’t be able to do.
And then, even if they should be able to do what he asks, they often fail in their task.
For example, just before today’s reading Jesus asked the disciples to feed five
thousand men (plus women and children). The disciples naturally complained they didn’t have enough to feed them. It’s too hard. They can’t do it. It seems they failed Jesus’ test.
But in the next moment, Jesus blessed a small pile of bread and fish, gave it to the disciples to distribute it (after all, he told them to feed the people), and after everyone was fed, there were still twelve baskets of left-over food.
This is amazing! Miraculous! Unbelievable! Even though they couldn’t do it, with Jesus’ help, they did it!
Then, in today’s text (which comes immediately after the miraculous feeding of the five thousand), Jesus told them to cross over to the other side of the lake by boat while Jesus said goodbye to the crowds and went off by himself to pray.
But during the night the winds and waves came to torment his disciples while they were in the middle of the lake. Here in the dark they’re alone, afraid, and tortured by the scary and chaotic storm. Then, to top it off, just when they didn’t think it could get any worse, Jesus walks toward them on the water!
Now, before you criticise the disciples’ frightened reaction when they saw Jesus, what would you think?
I mean, if you’ve been taught your whole life to be afraid of the sea because it’s a chaotic place filled with pagan gods and demons and evil spirits, and you believe you’re under demonic attack by these chaotic winds and waves this whole night, and then, you see a man walking toward you on those waves, what do you think your reaction would be like?
Maybe you’d squeal like frightened little girls like they did! They thought Jesus was a ghost or a phantom walking toward them to finish them off!
But then Jesus spoke to them. The words he spoke are good to memorise and
paste on your walls at home.
Unfortunately, the words he spoke are often watered down a little in our
translations. Literally, Jesus says something like: ‘Be encouraged’ as if he’s
commanding courage to fill their frightened hearts so they can stand firm in the face of evil and chaos. We too wouldn’t mind a bit of courage to stand firm in the face of persecutions and struggles at times.
He also says: ‘I am’, echoing the holy name of God of ‘I AM WHO I AM’ as once
announced to a frightened Moses before he led the Israelites out of Egypt. This is the same ‘I Am’ who is the Bread of Life, the Light of the world, the Good Shepherd, and the Way, the Truth, and the Life. This is the One who says ‘I Am with you to the end of the age’ at our baptism.
And then he says: ‘Don’t be afraid’ as if to order their fear to stop, just like he soon orders the wind and the waves to stop.
Wouldn’t it be good to not be afraid of what people think, or to not be afraid of
failing, or to not be afraid of what people will say or do to us, or to not be afraid of the troubles we face in life, or to not be afraid of sickness or death?
So, in their distress Jesus tells them: ‘Be encouraged! I am! Don’t be afraid!’ These words are a command, an assurance, and a promise of salvation despite the storm.
Now, coming back to doing what we can and can’t do at the same time, Peter
has the nerve to ask Jesus to command him to go toward Jesus on the water,
thereby doing what only Jesus as Lord of heaven and earth could do.
Now, you’d think this is something Peter can’t do. Even though Jesus seemed to defy the laws of nature, a human can’t walk on water!
Yet Jesus gave him a simple command: ‘Come!’
Amazingly, miraculously, and unbelievably, Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water toward Jesus! He shouldn’t be able to do it, but he was doing it!
Wouldn’t you have loved to see the faces of the other disciples!
But again, we can’t do what we can do. Peter is soon distracted by the wind and sinks. He calls out for Jesus to save him as the chaotic sea begins to swallow him up. Jesus reaches out his hand and saves Peter before commenting on his little faith and doubt.
In a sense, Peter is a symbol of all believers.
You see, we’re at the same time we’re full of faith and unfaith. We can both do
wonderful things, yet we also completely fail at times. We can love exceedingly generously and graciously, and yet we can viciously hate and abuse each other.
We can be incredibly selfless and yet be extraordinarily selfish. We can be filled with hope and joy and yet flounder in the despairing depths of hopelessness. Even the strongest person of faith will also experience times of doubt and fear.
Therefore, the cry of Peter to Jesus: ‘Lord, save me!’ is the cry of both the strong disciple who can do miraculous things, as well as the miserable sinner who struggles with doubt, despair, and confusion.
We cry out to Jesus as the only One who can save us from sin, from the devil, and from death itself. Even when we can’t reach out to him (because it’s something we both can and can’t do for ourselves), he’s the One who reaches out to us. In this way, instead of us being able to cling to him, he’s the One who clings to us and holds us safe.
In our world today there are many things which torment us in the storms of life and faith. We need his encouragement, the assurance of his presence, and for him to calm our fears.
The storms we face (which often make us afraid) could come in the forms of
school studies or excessive workloads. It could come from peer pressure or bullying.
It could come from unrealistic expectations of ourselves or from those around us. It could be the upheaval from changes in our circumstances.
It could also be struggles with family, friends, or even church members. It could be coping with human frailty as we get older and fear being a burden on others. It could be political or economic struggles as we face the storms of dissent or deception as we make a stand for God’s view of marriage or gender over public
opinion. It could even be the inevitable storm of death – either our own or one of our loved ones.
All the time we may struggle with what we can and can’t do.
While we all know we can look to Jesus Christ alone for strength, for hope, for life and salvation, we struggle to do this. It’s both something we can and can’t do!
Every time we attempt to keep our attention firmly fixed on Jesus Christ alone by our own powers, we find ourselves distracted by all the fears and problems of this world. In some ways, fear drives us to Jesus, but fear can also drive us away from
him. Now, of course we can always pray that God would take our storms away so we could live in peace and harmony now and into eternity, but he doesn’t always do so.
While the winds did die down when Jesus got into the boat, the storm was still
raging while Jesus and Peter walked on the water. God also chose not to remove the storm of the cross from Jesus either. Jesus walked through the storms of apathy, ignorance, abuse, whippings, beard pulling, and death in order to give us forgiveness, peace and life.
While God doesn’t always take the storms away, he promises to be with us in those storms. As we face the waves of hostility, the winds of guilt and shame, the howls of health problems, and even the final storm of death, Jesus calls out to each of us:
‘Be encouraged! I am! Don’t be afraid!’
The great ‘I AM’ of the Old Testament is here with us. Just like he was with those troubled people of the past who both could and couldn’t do what was required of them, he is also with us.
By ourselves we can’t survive the storms of life without fear, or have faith in a loving God who allows trouble to visit us, or even love the Lord with all our heart, soul, mind or strength. You can’t do it. I can’t do it. It’s impossible.
But Jesus comes near to give us courage to endure those storms. Not only this, but through faith he empowers us through his Spirit to do what we can’t do by
ourselves.
Jesus comes near to assure us the ‘I AM WHO I AM’; the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, David, and Elijah; is here with us and won’t let us face our battles alone.
He comes near so that, even if the storms rage around us, we’re no longer afraid of them. Even if we feel ourselves flounder, Jesus is the one who reaches out to save us and restore us through his forgiveness, grace, mercy, peace, and life.
While we can’t cope and do all these things alone, with God’s help we can. We
can endure courageously. We can have faith. We can have peace and hope in
the face of life’s storms and evil and death.
Yes, there are many times we’ll feel we can’t live by faith alone, and those storms will blow fiercely and we’ll be afraid, but with the help of the Holy Spirit, who is the presence of the living Lord Jesus, we can endure. It’s something we both can and can’t do at the same time.
Therefore, no matter what storms any of us are facing at this time, let’s keep our eyes fixed on Jesus. Let’s be encouraged. The ‘I AM’ is with us. Don’t be afraid.
And it’s in this way that the peace of God, which surpasses all human, will continue to guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen

The Text: Matthew 14:13-21
What do you have? Do you have a roof over your head, a bed to sleep in, clothes
to wear and food to eat? Do you have a car or have access to some form of
transportation? Do you have a bank account and does it have any money in it?
What luxury items do you have and what other odds and ends are lying around
your place? Could you pack all of your possessions into a suitcase or would you
need a removalist van to make a shift?
In 1964 Donald Horne, a Sydney journalist, referred to Australia as the ‘lucky
country’. This phrase stuck and has since been used to describe everything from our
weather and wide-open spaces to our overall quality of life. Many don’t realise
Horne’s quote has been taken out of context. He actually said: ‘Australia is a lucky
country, run by second-rate people who share its luck’.
You may sometimes think the people running our country are still second rate, but
most of us would agree that we are blessed to live here. Australia consistently ranks
in the top countries in the world in terms of our quality of life. It has always been
seen as a land of opportunity, a desirable destination for migrants and refugees
alike who are seeking to start a new life.
But there are still the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots’ in our society. The gap between
the richest people in the land and the poorest is significant. Where do we see
ourselves on the wealth spectrum? Is it easier for us to focus on what we have or on
what we do not have?
Our Gospel reading deals with the very well-known incident in the life of Jesus where
he miraculously fed a crowd of thousands. It features in all four Gospel accounts –
Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, which is why it is very familiar to us.
Jesus had just heard news of the death of John the Baptist so he had withdrawn to
a remote place to regroup and grieve. But the crowds came from the surrounding
towns and followed him out there. Despite his grief, Jesus had compassion on them
and still set about healing their sick. The day passed and evening came. Jesus had
met their needs and it was time for the people to go home and get some dinner.
But Jesus said they didn’t have to go away and he instructed his disciples to feed
them.
The disciples didn’t have the resources to feed this large crowd – 5,000 men, with
the women and children to be added to this number. In addition to this, it wasn’t
actually required. You could see this as an ‘unnecessary miracle’. This wasn’t a life
or death situation of poverty-related hunger. The people could easily go and get
their own food.
No one asked to be fed. No one expected to be fed. There was no need.
But Jesus insisted. He took the food they had – five loaves of bread and two fish –
and miraculously turned it into a meal that fed all of the crowd of thousands. There
were more leftovers than what they had to begin with. So what is the moral of the
story?
Is it a call for us to meet the needs of our hungry world – ‘you give them something
to eat’? When you think of what we do have here in Australia then it is easy to see
this miracle as an encouragement to share what we have with those less fortunate
than us.
It is easy to use this account to focus on what we have, to be reminded of how
richly blessed we are in comparison to elsewhere in the world. The moral then
becomes one of counting your blessings and sharing your blessings. No one is going
to arc up about such a conclusion. It’s only fair and reasonable to expect us to give
from what we have, whatever that is.
Only…that’s not our text! It is not how the story played out.
What did the disciples have? They had nothing really – only five loaves of bread
and two fish. And in John’s account we hear that even this meagre amount wasn’t
what they had at all. It belonged to a boy (John 6:8-9). This miracle is not about
getting us to give from what we have. There is nothing especially miraculous about
that. We do that all the time to varying degrees: depending on our generosity and
on the perceived need.
Most of us are moved to give from what we have when we hear about an urgent
need: a severe famine in Africa; a child requiring life-saving surgery; a natural
disaster that devastates a community. We respond to these crises and so we should!
But again that’s not what our text is on about.
In the Old Testament book of 1 Kings (17:7f) we hear of how the prophet Elijah
miraculously provided oil and flour for the widow at Zarephath [pronounced Zar-eh-
fath]. On that occasion, the life of the widow and her son were at stake. With the
feeding miracle in our Gospel account there was no such crisis; no life was at stake.
There was nothing urgent or special about the situation.
As the disciples said: the crowd ‘can go to the villages and buy themselves some
food’. It is because the miracle is so unnecessary that you start to wonder why Jesus
did it and what is he trying to teach through it.
The natural order of things is that we take care of ourselves. We try and get
ourselves to the point of self-sufficiency; to the point where we have enough. If we
have more than enough for ourselves then we can share. But this mindset and
natural order of things is such a limiting one really. It is limited not only by what we
have but also by what we are willing to release, to let go of what we have. And we
are notoriously bad at doing that.
This miraculous feeding occurred once the disciples realised what they didn’t have;
that they had nothing to offer. In Matthew’s Gospel account, we see the greatest
miracles occur when people bring with them the least. It isn’t what we have that
makes us effective disciples in God’s kingdom.
Earlier the religious leaders presented their credentials to John the Baptist by saying:
‘we have Abraham as our father’ (Matthew 3:9). But John wasn’t overly impressed
with that, telling them that God could produce children from stones. It isn’t about
what we have but about what God can do with what we don’t have.
We see this throughout Jesus’ ministry. He was brought those who had diseases,
those who had severe pain, those who had demon possession, those who had
seizures, those who had blindness and those who had paralysis (Matthew 4:24;
15:30). It is not the greatest list of attributes to bring to the table; and yet Jesus
healed them all.
For, what did Jesus have? In the world’s terms he didn’t seem to have much at all.
He told his followers: “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has
no place to lay his head” (Matthew 8:20). So he didn’t have a roof over his head.
And when he came to Jerusalem to claim his throne as king all he had was a
borrowed donkey (Matthew 21:3).
But he did have authority: he had the authority to teach the truths of God’s
kingdom (Matthew 7:29) and he had the authority to forgive sins (Matthew 9:6). And
in the lead up to this latest miracle we see that he had compassion on the large
crowd that had come out to see him (Matthew 14:14). We have a God who loves
us and cares for us. We have a God who wants to give us each day our daily
bread. We have a God who wants to heal our hurts and bring us life and make us
whole. It turns out that he doesn’t need a whole lot or even anything from us in
order to make these things happen.
So what do we need to have? We need to have ‘ears that hear’ (Matt.13:43); that
is, the ability to perceive that God’s kingdom follows a different pattern to that of
the world. And we need to have ‘faith as small as a mustard seed’ (Matt.17:20).
And God has provided even these to us because we don’t have them naturally. For
even when we have so little (or nothing at all) God can still move mountains. God
can use us to feed the hungry and heal the broken through what he provides,
rather than through what we have. God will see to it that his kingdom comes, on
earth as it is in heaven. Amen.

The Text: Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

“Jesus told them another parable: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field’” (v31).

The game of Charades is an acting game in which one player acts out a word or phrase, often by miming similar-sounding words. The other players try and guess the word or phrase. The idea is to use physical rather than verbal language to convey the meaning to another party. The game of Charades can be very frustrating for both parties, especially if you are either struggling to be understood or struggling to understand. If you have played the game, chances are you have experienced both sides of the equation.

The game aside, you might have carried out a charade in a real-life situation – such as when you tried to find a toilet in a non-English speaking country.

We probably use charades more than we realise, given that a large percentage of communication is non-verbal. Apparently only 7% of our communication is conveyed through actual words, whilst the rest comes through the tone of our voice, facial expressions, gestures, posture and other non-verbal forms. Anyone who is married will know how just a look from your spouse can convey a whole world of meaning without any words needing to be said.

In our Gospel reading for today Jesus uses a series of parables (pictures or images from everyday life that teach about spiritual realities) in an endeavour to describe to his listeners what the kingdom of heaven is like. The attempts of Jesus to explain it made me think of this game of Charades. Jesus is teaching and his disciples and the crowds are struggling to understand. The reason for this confusion comes from a language barrier. But it is not a normal language barrier.

The problem was not the linguistic differences between speaking Aramaic, Hebrew or Greek—the predominant languages spoken in Israel at that time. Jesus was not restricted to using physical rather than verbal language to convey his meaning. The real language barrier was the gulf separating heaven and earth, the divine and the human.

How does one begin to describe the kingdom of heaven to those who are so accustomed to the kingdoms of this earth? You can’t use the normal language and descriptors because they just don’t apply. The kingdom of heaven is not like the kingdoms (nations/countries) of this earth.

So, what is it like? How would you describe the kingdom of heaven to others? What words or images would you use to unpack God’s eternal truths in a temporal context?

We have a tendency to think of it in expansive and elaborate terms. Surely God’s heavenly kingdom must be significantly greater than our experience of this world’s kingdoms. So we might speak of it in terms of how it far exceeds anything we can possibly imagine—it is bigger and better and brighter.

But the kingdom of heaven is not like the kingdoms of this earth. It is not simply a bigger and better and brighter version of what we experience here on this earth. It can’t be adequately described by adding a few adverbs and some other superlatives to emphasize its magnificence.

Jesus surprises us in the way he describes the kingdom of heaven. He surprises us in the parables he tells to convey its true meaning. Jesus tells us that the kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, it is like yeast, it is like treasure hidden in a field, it is like a pearl of great value and it is like a net that was let down into the lake. These are very ordinary images that are used to describe what must be the most extraordinary of truths—God’s heavenly kingdom.

A mustard seed!? Yeast!? Hidden treasure!? A single pearl!? A fishing net!? Surely not! Surely such things can’t possibly do justice to the task of painting a picture of the kingdom of heaven!

But this is the picture that is painted by the one who should know what the kingdom of heaven is like. Jesus is the Son of God who came from heaven to reside with us here on this earth. He did it in order to bridge the gap between the two.

And Jesus uses that which is unimpressive to impress upon us how distinctive God’s kingdom of heaven is from our normal experiences of the kingdoms of this earth.

And it needs to be distinctive and different. For—let’s face it—we have had how-ever many thousands of years to build our own kingdoms and nations and what have we accomplished? Have we found an answer to the issues we face? Have we managed to establish a strong enough, big enough and successful enough kingdom to combat poverty and greed and violence and sickness and death? We live in a world where the different kingdoms can’t live at peace with each other. At any time in history conflicts are waged between kingdoms and nations, where they try to exert their strength. The kingdom of heaven is not like this—it is not like a bigger, more powerful version of what we already have. We don’t need that.

The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that is planted in a field. It seems small and insignificant, just as the word of God that is sown in a person’s life seems the same. But that seed grows to become a plant that provides respite, just as God’s word grows in a person to produce good works that will bring blessings to the earth.

So, the kingdom of heaven is seen at work when one person chooses to forgive a wrong done to them rather than harbour feelings of anger and revenge.

The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that is mixed into a large batch of flour. The yeast is hidden in that flour but it works all the way through it in such a way that all the flour is impacted by it. Likewise, the kingdom of heaven is not restricted by any border or limits established by the nations of this earth. It transcends cultural, political and geographical divides and defies any attempts to restrict its influence.

So, the kingdom of heaven is at work even in those kingdoms where Christianity has been outlawed, though its true influence may be hidden from view for a time.

And even though the kingdom of heaven is described in ordinary terms it is still beyond all earthly value. It is like that treasure hidden in a field and like that pearl of great value. That value is not always easily and instantly recognised, but when it is, there is nothing on this earth to compare to it. Both men in the parables sold everything they had in order to attain what they had now found.

So it is with those who receive the kingdom of heaven. Their world view and system of values is altered completely because they find true worth in God’s blessings.

King Solomon understood this. In our Old Testament reading (1 Kings 3:5-12) Solomon was presented with an incredible offer from God: ‘Ask for whatever you want me to give you’. He didn’t ask for wealth or long life or for power over his enemies—all things that our world might place a high value on. Instead Solomon asked for a discerning heart and the ability to distinguish between right and wrong. Above everything else he wanted God’s values in his life and this was considered to be a truly wise approach to life.

In addition to being given the wisdom he requested, God promised to give him wealth and honour as well—because all things are God’s to give.

And that is why ‘the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was let down into the lake and caught all kinds of fish’. Regardless of what the kingdoms of this earth claim as their own and regardless of whether people choose to acknowledge the sovereignty of God or not, it does not alter the fact that God’s kingdom is an all-pervading one.

We don’t have to enforce the kingdom of heaven on this earth because, as the Psalmist declares, the earth is already ‘the Lord’s and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it’ (Psalm 24:1). In the Lord’s Prayer we pray: “Your kingdom come”. But Martin Luther said in his explanation of this prayer: “Indeed, the kingdom of God comes of itself even without our prayer; but we pray in this petition that it may come to us also”.

The kingdom of heaven to which we belong is full of surprises. It is not like what we might often expect or even want at times. But despite the way it is hidden in the little and ordinary things, it continues to grow—in us and in all the earth.

Jesus is the King of kings and Lord of lords. He demonstrated what the kingdom of heaven is like, not only through his parables, but also through his actions.

The kingdom of heaven is like a King who was hung on a cross by his own people to die. There is not a lot to impress us about that image but through this sacrifice Jesus has conquered sin and death and has brought us into the kingdom of heaven.

May we continue to explore the truths of God’s kingdom of heaven through his Son, Jesus, and may we come to see how the kingdom, the power and the glory are his, now and forever. Amen.