Sermon for the Festival of the Lutheran Reformation
Revelation 14:6-7 + Matthew 11:12-15
Today we celebrate the Lutheran Reformation of the Church. Not the “Protestant” Reformation. Not the Reformed Reformation. But the Lutheran Reformation. If the idea behind the Reformation was to get back in a straight line behind Christ and His apostles and behind the Church Fathers and Christians over the centuries who also followed in that straight line of the pure teaching of the Gospel (that’s what the word “orthodox” means, by the way—straight teaching), then we have to recognize that not everyone who took a stand against Rome stands in that straight line. Some Protestants stand off to the side when it comes to this or that doctrine. Some Lutherans do, too. We Lutherans believe (or certainly ought to believe) that Luther got it right, not in everything he ever said, but in the chief points of doctrine he believed and confessed.
Now, the name “Lutheran” is a somewhat unfortunate name, because for as much as we honor him and give thanks for him, it’s not Martin Luther whom we follow or in whom we believe. It’s Christ whom we follow and in whom we believe. But, in the long line of apostles and preachers and Church Fathers and Christians who, through the ages, followed a straight path behind Christ, we recognize Luther’s place there, too, and we follow along the same path, behind him and those who have come after him, behind those who went before him, behind the apostles, behind Christ. To call ourselves a “Lutheran” Church should be no different (in our understanding and in our meaning) than to call ourselves an Apostolic Church, or finally, a Christian Church. We follow behind Luther, because we are convinced that he followed behind the apostles, who followed behind Christ.
But what did it take for Luther to get out of the skewed line he grew up in and into that straight (orthodox) line behind the apostles and behind Christ? It took a forceful stand against the long line of preachers before him who had stepped out of line, led by the popes in Rome. And what did it take for the truth of Christ’s Gospel to spread in the world? It took a forceful stand on the part of the Christian Church itself, to break away from the safety and comfort of the Roman tradition. It took forceful men and women to step out of the line being led by the pope and to get in line behind Luther, not because he was Luther, but because he was following Christ and His apostles. We learn from the Lutheran Reformation the same thing we learn from today’s short Gospel: Only a forceful Christianity can stand.
Jesus talks about John the Baptist in today’s Gospel. At the moment, John the Baptist was in prison for preaching God’s Word. He had sent some of his disciples to Jesus to ask if Jesus was the Christ who was to come. We’ll look at that part of Matthew 11 in just a few weeks, during the season of Advent. John, you recall, had been a forceful preacher of repentance. He stood against the Jewish religious leaders who had strayed from the right understanding of the Law of Moses and of the Prophets. He stood against King Herod, who had married his brother’s wife while his brother still lived. He stood against his own disciples when they wanted him to hold onto his disciples even after Christ came on the scene. He stood and preached forcefully, not on the basis of human reason, not on the decrees of any councils, but solely on God’s Word. Standing on the foundation of God’s Word, He spoke the truth, even though it offended the people in charge.
In our Gospel, Jesus says, If you are willing to receive it, he—John—is Elijah who is to come. We can see the similarities between John and Elijah. Elijah was also a forceful preacher of repentance. He stood against the idolatry of the northern kingdom of Israel. He stood against the powerful rulers of his day—wicked King Ahab and his wicked wife Jezebel, who had stepped way out of line from the teachings of Moses. He stood against the prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel as the lone preacher of the LORD God of Israel.
But what does Jesus mean, “Elijah who is to come”? Remember the prophecy at the end of the book of Malachi: Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet Before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the LORD. And he will turn The hearts of the fathers to the children, And the hearts of the children to their fathers, Lest I come and strike the earth with a curse. Jesus explains that “Elijah” was to be understood figuratively, about a man who would come and preach like Elijah once preached, who would stand like Elijah once stood, against the religious leaders who had gone astray. John was the promised prophet who stood for the true God in the face of much opposition, as Elijah had once done.
And, just as in the days of Elijah, God preserved for Himself a faithful remnant of believers. He worked through John’s preaching to raise up forceful believers, believers who humbly clung, stubbornly clung, forcefully clung to the Word of God and the worship of God, in spite of the enormous pressure from the culture and from leadership at that time to turn away to idols.
It’s just as Jesus said in the Gospel: From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven is forcing its way, and forceful people are laying hold of it. In other words, through John’s forceful stand for the truth, the kingdom of heaven was forcing its way into Judea and into the world. And through that preaching, God was also raising up forceful people who were laying hold of that truth and pressing into the kingdom of heaven, daring to confess their sins, daring to be baptized, daring to put their faith in Jesus as the Christ, daring to stake their soul’s eternal salvation, not on human reason, not on the popular teachings of the Church at that time, but solely on the Word of God which centers on God’s mercy in Christ Jesus—salvation by grace alone, by faith alone, for the sake of Christ alone. God was raising up for Himself a Church that stood on the Gospel and was willing to be hated for it and persecuted for it.
Now, how does all that apply to this celebration of the Lutheran Reformation of the Church?
We’ve chosen October 31st as the actual date for celebrating the Reformation because of what Luther did on that day in 1517, nailing his 95 Theses to the church door in Wittenberg, Germany. But it’s not the Theses themselves that we celebrate. Don’t get me wrong. They were good and well-reasoned. They touched on important questions that would affect the Church for centuries to come: How far does papal authority actually reach? Does it reach beyond the city of Rome? All the way to Germany? All the way to purgatory? What good are the indulgences that the pope signs? How can he claim to forgive the penalties imposed by others? Worse, how can he charge money for the forgiveness of sins and reconciliation with God?
Still, it wasn’t so much the issues discussed in the 95 Theses that were so striking, but the simple fact that a lowly priest, in that 16th century environment—not unlike the environment that John the Baptist faced in early first century Israel—should question the status quo in the Church or even try to discuss doctrinal inconsistencies in the Catholic Church. The pope and the leading men of the Roman Church were to be supported and believed, not questioned, not doubted.
But there stood Luther, defying pope and emperor, insisting that the Holy Scriptures must be the source and the arbiter of all our doctrine. There stood Luther, convinced by Holy Scripture that the penalties paid by Christ on the cross are the sufficient and only price of mankind’s redemption and reconciliation with God. There stood Luther, pointing to Jesus as the one Mediator between God and man, pointing out that the saints had been made into idols by Rome. There stood Luther, pointing to faith in Christ Jesus as that by which alone God justifies any and every sinner.
We can and should thank God for what He accomplished for His Church through Martin Luther, as through a divinely sent messenger or “angel,” like the one we heard about in today’s Epistle from Revelation 14. But if Martin Luther had stood alone, all by himself, on the truth of God’s Word, then the world might still be filled with nothing but the deviant, skewed version of Christianity which was being taught by the Roman Church of the 16th century, with countless souls still cowering for fear before the righteous God, still putting their hope in the Virgin Mary and in the other saints, still living in fear of purgatory, still following the superstitions of monkery and relics and manmade forms of worship. But because Luther stood, God was able to use him to bring the light of the Gospel to countless others, to free them from the superstitions of Rome, to put the Bible into their hands so that they could read it for themselves and allow the Scriptures to interpret the Scriptures instead of relying only on the pope to interpret it for them. Forceful men laid hold of the kingdom of God, refusing to be bullied by Rome or by the emperor, refusing to be silenced by those who claimed to be wise, but whose opinions were built on nothing but human doctrine. And so, although the Roman Church continued to oppose Luther until the day he died, the Holy Catholic Church stood by him and stands by him still.
What will you do with it—you, who call yourselves Lutherans? What will you do with this gift of the pure Gospel of Christ, handed down by the apostles, preached in the Church throughout the ages, obscured by human errors and abuses at various times, but then magnificently restored through Luther and the Lutheran Reformation? We’ve seen the pure Gospel obscured again since Luther’s time, both by Protestant groups and by many who claim the Lutheran name. We’ve seen people abandon the Lutheran faith—which we believe to be in a straight line with Christ Himself— due to apathy, or convenience, or persecution, or love of this life, or longing for the trappings of the bigger church. What will you do with the Gospel?
Will you be meek with it? Timid? Will you treat is as of minor importance in your life, something to think about once a week—if that? Will you be ashamed of it? Will you toss it away for an earthly prize, or when the weight of the cross becomes heavier than you wish to bear? Far be it! Far be it from you who have been cleansed, from you who have been washed in Christ’s blood, from you who have received, from the pure grace of God, the everlasting Gospel in the purest form in which it exists on earth! Far be it from you to be intimidated—or enticed!— by those who mix truth with error, or by those who don’t know the truth at all! Far be it from you, who are truly faith-ful, to behave as those who have no faith!
Instead, recognize the treasure you have been given, the comfort of a faith founded on the immovable rock of Holy Scripture, on the sure and certain Means of Grace, the Gospel in Word and Sacraments, on the actual, historical, apostolic faith once delivered to the saints. Give thanks for it! Treasure it! And then stand! Stand forcefully on the truth of Christ! Stand on it against the devil, against the world, and against your sinful flesh. Stand on it in the face of error. Stand on it in the face of hate. Stand on it in the face of temptation. Stand on it in the face of despair. Stand on it in such a way that the world around you knows exactly where you stand.
Only a forceful Christianity can stand. So stand forcefully on the truth of Christ’s Gospel, together with the true Holy Catholic Church of all times. Stand on it with Luther, and let his words before Emperor Charles V at the Diet of Worms become your own words: “Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear reason (for I do not trust either in the pope or in councils alone, since it is well known that they have often erred and contradicted themselves), I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and I will not retract anything, since it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience. I cannot do otherwise, here I stand, may God help me, Amen.” And may God help us, too! Amen.
