Emmanuel Lutheran Church

Sermon for Epiphany 4

Romans 13:8-10  +  Matthew 8:23-27

Jesus’ disciples witnessed His divine power over nature at the wedding at Cana, changing water into wine. They witnessed His divine power over nature as He performed the healing miracles on the sick. But those miracles were “quiet,” so to speak. There’s something more impressive in today’s miracle, something more spectacular, more awesome—an epiphany at sea, if you will. This Man Jesus controls the earth, the weather and the environment itself. Everything that’s going on around you at every moment is within the power of His will and His word. There’s are some powerful implications of that that we’re going to explore this morning.

All three Evangelists record this “fateful trip” out to sea, and they all start out with the same important piece of information: It was Jesus who initiated this trip. He got into the boat, and His disciples followed Him. As Mark’s Gospel adds, Jesus said to His disciples, “Let’s cross over to the other side.” This journey out onto the water, this journey that became so perilous, wasn’t done at the whim of the disciples against their better judgment. It was undertaken at the guidance of Jesus. That’s the first point to remember.

The second point to remember is that Jesus had already told them some very important things. He had told them of the work He had to do as the Christ. And He had told them that He would make them “fishers of men,” with an apostleship and a ministry that they would have to carry out in the world. So, with Jesus’ guidance in setting sail and with Jesus’ word that both He and they had lots of work to do in the world, could they possibly perish at sea in any storm? No. The only way they could perish at sea is if Jesus is a liar, or if Jesus has no power to fulfill His word.

But then the storm arose. Winds started howling and whipping up the sea. Waves began crashing over the boat and water began spilling into it. It’s not like Jesus’ disciples were novices at this. These were experienced fishermen, most of them, who had grown up around this very Sea of Galilee and earned their living on this very lake. They knew how to navigate the lake and how to weather a storm. So it must have been quite a storm for them to be so desperate, so worried.

All the while, Jesus slept. Such perfect trust in His Father! Such a contrast with the disciples, who were panicking, even though they had Jesus’ own guidance to be where they were and they had Jesus’ own assurance that they would go on to become His ministers in the world. They either forgot about what Jesus had said, or they stopped relying on it because of the danger they could see and hear and feel all around them. So in near despair, they cried out, “Lord, save us! We’re perishing!”

They turned to Him for help, which was good, but there was a tinge of scolding in their words. Mark records them more sharply: Teacher, don’t You care that we are perishing? Not unlike the prayers that are often uttered by people: God, don’t You care about us? Why aren’t You doing anything to save us? Can’t You see that we’re dying here?

But Jesus scolds them, albeit mildly, for their scolding of Him: Why are you fearful, O you of little faith? If He had left them time to answer that question, they might have started pointing at the sky and the waves and the water that was filling the boat. But mercifully, He simply spoke a word to the storm: Peace, be still! And the wind ceased and there was a great calm.

The disciples marveled at Jesus’ power as He revealed it to them in this epiphany at sea. We marvel at it, too, as we hear about it. But marveling at Jesus’ power won’t do us any good, if we forget about it or stop relying on it when we’re the ones in trouble.

Now, sometimes, the troubles we face are troubles of our own making, troubles that result from bad decisions you’ve made. There’s no divine guarantee you’ll get out of those situations unscathed or even alive. I think of choosing a job that you know will force you to abandon God’s Word and Sacrament, or habitual smoking, or overeating, or drug abuse, or adultery, or marrying someone who doesn’t confess the Christian faith together with you, or drinking and driving, or simply choosing to treat people badly. You have no right to expect that God will intervene to save you from the troubles that result from such things. What you do have at those times is God’s promise to be faithful to His baptismal promises, to keep seeking out the baptized, to forgive you when you repent of your sins, to heal your standing with Him, and to help you deal with the earthly consequences of your sins.

At other times, you may simply be going about your daily life, having no word from God guiding you to do one thing over another thing. You simply make decisions that you’re free to make, going about your business. And then some tragedy occurs, or some illness strikes out of the blue. And still, you have no divine promise that God will make a certain job or a certain move turn out “well,” in an earthly sense. You have no divine promise that you will not die in a storm or that you’ll be cured of an illness. And so you have no right to have faith that a certain job will work out or that a certain illness will be healed. You can’t have faith in something God hasn’t said. You can’t trust in a promise God has never made. What you can trust in are the promises God has made, to make you His own beloved child and heir through Holy Baptism, to forgive you your sins through the minister’s absolution and through His holy Sacrament, and to somehow make all things work together for good to those who love Him, understanding “good” according to your heavenly Father’s vision, not necessarily according to yours.

At still other times, you do have divine guidance and direction to do certain things: as a Church, to preach the Word in season and out of season, to support the ministry of the Word with your prayers and offerings, and to pray for all men in their needs. As individual Christians, to live as Christians in the world, obeying God’s commandments, hearing His Word and receiving His Sacraments, serving diligently in your vocations, confessing the Word of God in your daily life, and doing good to your neighbor, especially to your fellow Christians. Even in the midst of doing such good things that have God’s direct command, you will have troubles. Jesus calls them “crosses” that you have to bear in this world.

But guess what? The One who was powerful to control the wind and the waves on the Sea of Galilee is also powerful to deliver you from all evil and to bring you safely into His heavenly kingdom. We confess as much every time we pray in the Lord’s Prayer: Deliver us from evil. What does this mean? Our Catechism answers: We ask in this prayer, in summary, that the Father in heaven would deliver us from every sort of evil of body and soul, of property and honor; and finally, when our last hour comes, grant us a blessed end, and graciously take us from this valley of sorrow to Himself in heaven. And to that, you say, Amen. Yes, yes, it shall be so!

So. If you believe in Jesus as the Christ, as true God who became true Man to atone for your sins with His life, then believe in Him also as the Ruler of the things going on around you in your life, and trust in His promises of deliverance and divine help in every need. There’s no room here for distrust. No room for despair. No reason to panic. No reason to imagine that God will allow you to perish. Your flesh is weak and fragile, and you will be tempted to panic, tempted to rely on yourself. But Christ Jesus is strong, and His word and power cannot fail. Remember that, and rely on Him, even in the midst of the storm. As the hymn says: If thou but suffer God to guide thee and hope in Him through all thy ways, He’ll give thee strength, whate’er betide thee, and bear thee thro’ the evil days. Who trusts in God’s unchanging love builds on the Rock that naught can move. Amen.

Sermon for Epiphany 3

Romans 12:16-21  +  Matthew 8:1-13

On this third Sunday after Epiphany, we consider the revelations of Jesus’ divinity in the healings He performed—the healing of the leper and of the centurion’s servant in today’s Gospel. All of Jesus’ miracles revealed His divinity, but these two reveal His response to what I’ll call the “prayer of faith.”

What is the prayer of faith? How does it go? There is no exact formula for it, but it goes something like this: “Lord Jesus, I bring my desperate need before You. I’m powerless to help myself, but I know that You can help me. And even though I’m not worthy of Your help, I dare to ask for it, because I trust in Your compassion for the unworthy.” Both the leper and the centurion essentially prayed this prayer to Jesus in the Gospel, and both received a response that we can learn from, too.

The leper approached Jesus and prayed, Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean. What a beautiful, simple little prayer! No demands. Not, “if You can,” but, “if You are willing, You can.”

What led him to pray this prayer to Jesus? Where did the faith that was behind it come from? First, we note, he knew very well his own uncleanness. It was undeniable. Leprosy did that to a person. For as horrible a disease as it was, the one benefit was that it prevented a person from pretending to be clean. That means even more when you realize that leprosy was used by God to show all the non-lepers what they all looked like, too, on the inside. All were unclean—all are unclean, because all are sick with the disease of sin. No one lives up to God’s righteous standards. No one can earn a passing grade in God’s classroom, or an innocent verdict in God’s courtroom. So the leper had been brought to know his own unworthiness. Faith in Jesus can’t coexist with faith in oneself.

But the unclean leper also knew that Jesus could help him in his uncleanness, and more, he expected that Jesus would help him. In other words, he had faith. So he approached Jesus with a prayer of faith, not because he was worthy, but because he trusted in Jesus’ compassion. That faith came, not from human reason or from a decision on the leper’s part, but simply from the Word about Jesus that had reached his ears.

What was Jesus’ response to the prayer of faith? Mark’s Gospel tells us that Jesus was moved with compassion. That He reached out and touched the leper. The Clean One touches the unclean one and says, I am willing. Be clean. And so Jesus reveals to us His compassion for the wretched, the disgusting, the helpless, the needy, the downtrodden, the outcast. He reveals His compassion and His willingness to help.

That compassion is always there, because Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and today, and forever. With regard to sin, the willingness to cleanse is also always there, as John writes: If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. With regard to physical maladies in this life, Jesus isn’t always willing to remove them, but He is always willing to help us bear them. You remember St. Paul’s famous “thorn in the flesh,” whatever it was. He pleaded with Jesus to remove it, but what did the Lord tell him? My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness. But at the end of this age, He will be willing to cleanse us completely, both our sinful flesh and all the maladies that go along with it. Then we will hear Him say, “Be clean.” And we will be, forever.

After He cleansed the leper, Jesus wasn’t done with him just yet. He told him, See that you tell no one; but go your way, show yourself to the priest, and offer the gift that Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.

With cleanness comes a command: Go, do as the Law requires. We note that the cleansing happens first, and then comes the command. So also when Jesus absolves you of your sins, He doesn’t put the absolution at the end, after you’ve obeyed His commands, after you’ve done your works of penance or satisfaction. No, He absolves, and then He commands you to love God and to love your neighbor. “You are clean,” He says. Now live as a clean person, as a testimony to those around you. As Paul wrote in today’s Epistle: Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

We’ve considered the leper’s prayer of faith in the Gospel and Jesus’ response to it. Now let’s turn to the centurion’s prayer.

A Roman centurion came to Jesus with a prayer of faith. Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, dreadfully tormented. Did he perhaps think he was worthy of Jesus’ help? He was a commander in the Roman army, after all. And we learn from Luke’s Gospel that he had done much to help the Jews and to promote their religion, even building a synagogue for them. Perhaps he thought he deserved Jesus’ help? Perhaps he thought he could even command Jesus as he commanded his soldiers?

No, none of that. In fact, Luke informs us that the centurion didn’t even come to Jesus in person, but sent some Jewish friends to plead his case for him. And as Jesus drew near the house where the servant was, the centurion sent messengers out to Jesus, explaining that the centurion didn’t want to come in person only because he didn’t think himself worthy to come to Jesus himself. And yet, though unworthy, he trusted that Jesus would not turn him away. He had such faith in Jesus’ power and authority that he compared Jesus’ command over sickness to his own command over his soldiers. Only speak a word, and my servant will be healed.

It says that Jesus marveled at this saying. Truly, I say to you, I have not found such great faith, not even in Israel! What was Jesus impressed by? Not the centurion’s status. Not his race. But by his word-based faith, by his humble faith in Jesus as the good and compassionate Commander of—what? Of sickness and health, of nature itself, of the fate of mankind! To believe that Jesus could simply speak a word from somewhere in the world and whatever He spoke had to happen…that’s the kind of faith Jesus praised. Faith that didn’t need to see anything. Faith that Jesus could do anything with a mere word, because He is the God and Master of all things. Faith that Jesus was the kind of God who cared about unworthy sinners.

The centurion was an anomaly, something unheard of even in Israel where they had all the benefits of the people of God, all the evidence in the world for God’s power and goodness, everything needed to convince human reason. They had the Law of God, but most of them reinterpreted the Law to make themselves look good, feel good about themselves. Very few trusted in the true God, and of those who did, practically none at the time of Jesus displayed the kind of faith that the centurion did.

Ah, but the centurion would not be alone in praying with this kind of faith.

I say to you that many will come from east and west, and sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. There will be many more who look to Jesus with this kind of humble faith, who trust wholly in the power of His Word. They will come from all over the world, from the East and the West. People will hear and be convinced, not by the power of the arguments for Jesus, not by the power of their own reason. They will hear the simple word about the goodness and power of Jesus—His goodness displayed first and foremost in His death on the cross for our sins, His power displayed first and foremost in His resurrection from the dead—and they will receive the gift of faith. They will repent of their sins. They will believe and pray in faith to Jesus, in spite of what their human reason may tell them.

At the same time, though, a sad future is foretold: But the sons of the kingdom will be cast out into outer darkness. There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. The physical sons of Abraham will be cast out into outer darkness. Why? Because they didn’t want the free salvation Jesus was bringing. They didn’t want to listen to His Word. They wanted to think of God in their own terms, create their own religion, and damned be anyone who disagrees. They actually thought of themselves as “good people,” people who were themselves worthy of God’s help, worthy of a place at the table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. How wrong they were.

How wrong is anyone who dares to think that way, and it’s a common way for people to think. Even Christians must beware, because as the evil in the world around us increases, our flesh would have us put ourselves up on a pedestal and believe ourselves to be more worthy of God’s forgiveness and help than others. Not so. May we continue in the humble faith of the centurion.

And when we do, what can the believer expect from Jesus when we approach Him with a prayer of faith? We can expect that Jesus’ response to us will be like His response to the centurion: As you have believed, so let it be done.

Do you know where these words of Jesus are used? Martin Luther included them in his brief form of private confession. After a Christian confesses his sins to the pastor, the pastor is to ask, Do you also believe that my forgiveness is God’s forgiveness? Answer: Yes, dear pastor. Then let him say: As you believe, so may it be done to you. And I, by the command of our Lord Jesus Christ, forgive you your sins, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit! Amen. Go in peace!

Such is the power of the prayer of faith: it results in the forgiveness of sins and peace with God. It results in a favorable answer from God every time. Not because the prayer is so good. Not because the faith makes you worthy. But because, by approaching Jesus in faith, you’re approaching the very One who makes you worthy of God’s help, the very One who came into the world to save and to help sinners. And so you can be sure, you will never be disappointed. Amen.