Author: Higher Things

Rev. Eli Davis

I don’t know how many times I’ve heard from people who have had loved ones who just died that they have nothing to be sad about because their loved ones are with Jesus. They claim that dying was really a good thing, because now they’re free from all their pain and suffering and shame. It’s as though the only thing really keeping us from being with Jesus is our physical existence–as though our bodies aren’t really who we are.

It’s an idea that changes the way we look at death. Death is no longer something that divides us from God, but unites us with Him. Death is no longer an enemy, but a friend. Death is no longer evil, but good. It’s an idea that also changes the way we look at our bodies. Our body is no longer all that important. What happens to it is not the same as it happening to me. So now I can either change it any way I want, or do nothing at all with it. It’s all the same in the end. This mindset affects so many in our world. Gender doesn’t matter. Sexuality doesn’t matter. Self-mutilation doesn’t matter. Abortion doesn’t matter. Suicide doesn’t matter. No one can say a thing. Because it’s all within the realm of “my body” which, in the end, doesn’t matter at all.

This idea isn’t new. It’s old. Ancient even. We can call it by its Greek name: gnosticism. The name comes from the Greek word gnosis, which means knowledge. Gnostics believed they had the secret knowledge to the way this world worked. To put it briefly, they believed that all physical matter was the result of a spiritual mistake and that eventually everything in the physical world would be destroyed and only the spiritual would remain. Those who knew that they were spiritual would have their spiritual self live on forever, while those who lived as though their physical body were their real self would be lost forever. Gnostics eventually saw that some parts of Christianity appeared to line up with this view–at least, if you discarded the parts that didn’t. That picking and choosing still goes on today.

However, this idea that the body isn’t really worth anything is the opposite of what God says about it. God created humanity physically and called it very good (Genesis 1:31). God gives us His Law to protect both our bodies and the bodies of our neighbors (Exodus 20:1ff). He thinks enough of our bodies to take on that flesh Himself (John 1:14, Romans 1:3). And our great hope is not that our spirits alone remain with Jesus, for even those who are there groan, “How long, O Lord?” (Revelation 6:10) Our great hope is in the resurrection–the same resurrection we celebrate on Easter; the same resurrection we are baptized into; the same resurrection that comes on the last day. It is then when our bodies and souls are put back together again and where we are made alive again. Your resurrection is what Jesus died for, which means your body matters to Christ.

You matter, both body and soul. Together, these things make you one. And to take them apart is death. You matter, in the flesh. You matter enough that Jesus gave up everything to pull you out of the grave. Your body is you, and it is a gift from God. Therefore, gender matters. Sexuality matters. Self-harm matters. Abortion matters. Suicide matters. Death matters. And these all matter enough for Christ to have done something about them all. By being born in Bethlehem for you. By dying on that cross for you. By rising from that grave on the third day for you–not just spiritually, but physically, in the flesh, all for you.

Jesus Christ cares for you, both body and soul. He cares enough to overcome sin and death, so that you may live and have your body and soul back together again. There’s a prayer we pray at funerals–a prayer no Gnostic would ever pray–but it’s important for us to hear. May God the Father who created your body, may God the Son who by His blood redeemed your body, may God the Holy Spirit, who by holy baptism sanctified your body to be His temple keep you to the day of the resurrection of all flesh. Amen.

Pastor Eli Davis serves at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, Grants Pass, Oregon.

J. L. Moseman

At the beginning of J.R.R. Tolkien’s classic fantasy epic The Lord of the Rings we see the Shire in an uproar over the disappearance of Bilbo Baggins. This, of course, is for a good reason. Baggins does do something quite bold: He uses he One Ring to vanish in front of all his guests at his birthday party. This is why the first chapter of the book is called “An Unexpected Party.” It would be quite a feat to see someone do that and I think this is why it there was so much uproar in first century Jerusalem. The body of Jesus had disappeared and people wanted to know why. After all, this was a person who became famous doing miracles and for those paying attention He was also making bold claims. As fantastic as it would be to see someone disappear we can only imagine how much greater it would be to see someone reappear. Imagine the amazement the first witnesses of Jesus’s resurrection: the women at the tomb. As a child I often wondered what my reaction would have been if I had been there. I thought about how incredible it would have been to see the risen Christ on Easter. What I did not know then, was that one day I would. In fact, ever since my first communion twenty years ago I have been coming to the risen Christ and every time it has been on Easter.

Every Sunday when we partake in the Body and Blood of Christ we are celebrating Easter. We know this because as Lutherans we believe in the Real Presence. That means we do encounter the risen Jesus. It’s not just that we actually take and eat the risen Jesus. The Lord’s Supper is a celebration of Easter–a feast given to us for the remission of our sins. So in other words, it is a party where all the saints gather and for a brief minute we encounter heaven. We get to be renewed by the Holy Spirit and we get something unexpected and undeserved: We get salvation through Christ. How do we know this? A good answer for this question is found in Luke 22, in the Words of Institution. We also see it in the Gospel of John when Jesus tells us that He is “The Bread of Life”. Yet we all so often forget this or worse we start trying to reason this amazing gift away. The Lord’s Supper is an unexpected party because reason would tell us that a dead man from 2,000 years ago can’t be found in bread and wine. Perhaps this is what G.K. Chesterton meant when he wrote in his book What’s Wrong with the World, “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.”

It is indeed difficult to reason such things, but the empty tomb and the risen Christ are more than mere symbol or allegory. The resurrection was a real historical event that impacts us. It is the cornerstone of our faith and it is perhaps a reason to why people struggle with their faith especially in the college years. It is an unexpected climax to an unexpected story. It is though, more than a story–it is the truth. God Incarnate came down and died for our sins. That is something remarkable and unexpected. It is also unexpected that Christ the King would come to serve us rather than being served. This though is all true and while we might struggle in understanding how all the mysteries of God work, that knowledge only comes through the Holy Spirit.

But there are doubters when it comes to the Easter party. The first doubter says that there was no real bodily resurrection. The other doubter says that Easter is really not happening in the Lord’s Supper. On one side we have amazing miracles and events that seem like they might come from a Tolkien book. The secular skeptic says that the resurrection did not occur despite what we know of that event. In some ways this easier to combat. The other side is not as overt and harder to detect; it is often said often by well-intentioned Christians. At times it might seem that we cling to a very controversial doctrine as Lutherans–that Jesus gives Himself to us and we do nothing to receive Him. Some of our Christian brothers and sisters might ask us questions like, “Does Christ really forgive us in the sacraments?” or “Are we really unable to merit life and salvation from God apart from the free gift of grace?” These questions can do as much damage to the faith as those of the secular skeptic. However, it is important that we never fail to uphold both of these doctrines: the resurrection of Christ and His Body and Blood given to us for the forgiveness of sin. Thankfully, along with that unexpected gift of salvation, there is also the gift of faith which we receive in our Easter feast. So take heart my brothers and sisters, especially those of you who are struggling. Christ has risen and He did it for you.

J.L. Moseman lives in Grand Junction, Colorado and is a member of Messiah Lutheran Church and School.

Rev. Eric Brown

On the first day of the week, when we were gathered together to break bread… – Acts 20:7

From the early days of the church we’ve worshiped on Sunday morning. Please note that I’m not saying that you can’t go to a Saturday night service or anything like that – but very early on in church history the standard became to gather together on Sunday morning and celebrate the Lord’s Supper. There’s a very good and simple reason for this.

You see, there’s a new most important event in the history of the world. In the days of the Old Testament, the people of God were called to ponder the Sabbath, the day of rest that God Himself took in creation. That day that even pointed forward to the rest Christ would take in the tomb on Holy Saturday. And that is a mighty, wondrous thing to ponder. That was an important day!

Easter trumps it, though. Seriously…the resurrection tops everything. There is nothing in the world that is bigger or more amazing or astonishing than the reality that Christ Jesus rose from the dead. It stops everything else in its tracks. It is the jaw-dropping moment of the entire history of the world. God became Man, was dead, but then, He rose. And until the Last Day, there’s nothing bigger or more wondrous than that!

And so, when we pause now from our busy lives (as is good) to hear the Word of God, to receive His Supper, we generally have done it on Sunday morning, mirroring and echoing that great Sunday morning of the first Easter.

And I say first, because in reality, every Sunday (and every Saturday night or Monday night, or Wednesday noon, or whatever time your congregation might hold the Divine Service) is in reality a celebration of Easter. Every time we are gathered to worship, we are gathered to receive the forgiveness that our risen Lord and Savior gives us. It’s never worship without or apart from Easter. We never show up wondering, “Hmmm, I wonder if there will be forgiveness today. What if Jesus lost and Satan won–maybe we’ll hear that today.” By no means! Whenever we are called to gather together in His House, Jesus proclaims the fruits of His death and resurrection for us. Indeed, as often as we eat this bread and drink this cup, we proclaim His death until He comes, until He comes again, because He is risen, lives and reigns to all eternity, and shall come again! Come quickly, Lord Jesus!

Eric Brown serves as pastor at Trinity Lutheran Church, Herscher, Illinois.

Rev. Eric Brown

“It is finished,” and He bowed His head and gave up His Spirit. — John 19:30

“It is finished.” These are some of the most profound words in the entirety of Scripture. They are also some of the most difficult to believe. They are the words our sinful flesh hates above all others. The cry of the sinful flesh is, “Finished? It’s not finished until I say it is finished!” My grudge against my neighbor: How dare You say it is finished!

My pet sins that I happen to enjoy: How dare You say it is finished!
The disdain I have for “those” people: How dare You say it is finished!
The guilt I that want to cling to: How dare You say it is finished!
My feeling sorry for myself: How dare You say it is finished!
The pride I feel in my “good” works: How dare You say it is finished!
My holier–than–thou attitude: How dare You say it is finished!
My quest to prove how great I am: How dare You say it is finished!

Yes, at the Cross, Jesus said it is finished. Even all of the silly, vain things we cling to as sinners. All our wickedness–whether it’s the blatant evil we do, or the junk we cover up with a veneer of false righteousness — Jesus says that’s all done. Finished. It just died; it died with Me. I took all of that junk up from you and crucified it with Me. It’s not yours anymore–it’s Mine, and I say unto you, it is finished.

Of course, Jesus wasn’t just finishing off sin. Yeah, He took away your sin, even your sins in which you trusted and delighted. But He was also finishing off a lot of other stuff.

Satan and his kingdom: It is finished.
Death and its powers: It is finished.
Your separation from God: It is finished.
Everything required for your salvation: It is finished.
Everything needed for forgiveness: It is finished.
Everything needed for life: It is finished.
Anything that you might have needed to do yourself: It is finished.

All of it. All done, all accomplished by Christ Jesus upon the Cross. And do you know what remains? John, told us part, and he tells us a few verses later: “But one of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water.” When Jesus dies, when He declares, “It is finished” — all that remains is Spirit, blood, and water. The Spirit of Jesus remains, and that Holy Spirit takes the Word and declares to you that Jesus has done it all for you. It is finished for you. The Body and Blood of Jesus are given to you under bread and wine, and all the benefits of that “It is finished” is given to you. And if you should ever doubt or wonder if it actually is finished for you, remember that the water that poured from His side has been poured upon your head in Holy Baptism, and no doubt or fear can change that fact. It is finished for you. Your sins have been washed away by Christ, and all that remains is the love and righteousness and life that He gives to you.

Eric Brown serves as pastor at Trinity Lutheran Church, Herscher, Illinois.

Jonathan Kohlmeier

Maundy Thursday is a very Lutheran day; it’s all about the gifts of Christ given to you through Word and Sacrament. In the Old Testament lesson (Exodus 12), we hear of the Passover of the Israelites in Egypt. “Now the blood shall be a sign for you on the houses where you are. And when I see the blood, I will pass over you; and the plague shall not be on you to destroy you when I strike the Land of Egypt” (12:13). In the Epistle (1 Cor. 11), we receive the Words of Institution as delivered by Paul. We get to the “Maundy” (from “mandate,” “command”) of Maundy Thursday in the Gospel lesson (John 13). After Christ washes the disciples’ feet, He gives them the “new command” to love one another.

The blood on the doorposts in Egypt marked the houses that God would spare from the plague. The body and blood of Christ is given and shed for you on the cross that you would be spared from the wrath of God. You are given a different kind of sign. The sign of the holy cross on your forehead and on your heart that marks you as one redeemed by Christ the crucified.

The very body and blood of Christ – given and shed for you on the cross – is delivered to you in the Sacrament of the Altar. The words of Christ show that the body and blood are truly given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins. In Luther’s Small Catechism, “given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins” becomes the refrain of the sixth chief part. These words of Christ mean that there can be no doubt that these gracious gifts of forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation are given to you.

At the Feast of the Passover Jesus washes his disciples’ feet. Peter reacts in a way that many of us also would, by protesting Jesus doing the work of a servant. When Jesus tells him that Peter has no part with Him unless He washes him, Peter’s mood changes quickly and he wants his head and hands washed. Peter had already been washed as you have been washed in Baptism. We are dipped back into that water as we are daily drown in Baptism and as we receive absolution.

Later on in John 13, the Lord gives the New Command to disciples — that they love one another. Love flows from Jesus. It is given to you in Word and Sacrament. You love your neighbor in Baptism. Daily the Old Adam is drowned with all sins and evil desires and a new man arises. A new man that can’t help but love his neighbor. Love extends from Baptism as you absolve your neighbor and forgive him when they sin against you. As we pray multiple times a day in the Lord’s Prayer, “And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us,” we are reminded that we are constantly in need of forgiveness for our sin. In His mercy, Christ takes the punishment for the sin upon Himself and in His grace grants us forgiveness. We too can then forgive our neighbor and do good to them.

Maundy Thursday is all about the gracious gifts of God given to you in Word and Sacrament. Outside of the word, outside of Baptism and absolution, outside of the Sacrament of the Altar that grace won for you on the cross is never delivered to you. That is where the Lord has promised to be for you. And that’s where you find Him on Maundy Thursday — the same place that He is the rest of the Church year. The gracious gifts of God are delivered to you in the read and proclaimed Word. Forgiveness of sins is found in the water and Word at the font. As the sixth chief part’s refrain says, the body and blood of Christ, under the bread and the wine, is “given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.” And where there is forgiveness of sins there also is life and salvation.

Jonathan Kohlmeier is a member at St. Paul’s Lutheran Chapel and University Center in Iowa City, Iowa. He is also Webmaster for Higher Things. You can email him at jonkohlmeier@higherthings.org.

Rev. Eric Brown

[Jesus] is the propitiation for our sins, and not ours only but also for the sins of the whole world – 1 John 2:2

Insofar as we are still sinful human beings living in our flesh, we have a love/hate relationship with sin. On the one hand, we can love the tar out of our own pet sins. On the other, man, we hate it and get indignant when someone sins against us. We will rant and rave, complain, hate, gossip, tear down over the slightest little thing–drama at the drop of a hat as soon as someone displeases us.

And this love/hate relationship we have with sin spills out in a strange way for us as Christians. See, we hear the Good News that Christ Jesus has died for our sins, and then we deal with that. You have all that wonderful Law-Gospel dynamic, where we see that even the sins that we love are bad (and that annoys us), but then there is that even greater good news that we are forgiven by Christ. That lousy love of sin has a much better, bigger love put in its place: Christ’s love.

But here’s the kicker. For us Christians, there can sometimes be a tendency to forget or overlook (or even be downright mad about) the fact that Christ’s love and forgiveness trumps the sins that we hate–the sins that other people do. The sins they do to us. Jesus died for that person who is a jerk to you. Really.

And in the moment, we can get really absolutely indignant. But let’s pause for a second. It’s good that Jesus died for that jerk. You know why? Because often enough, you are someone else’s jerk, and Jesus still died for you.

This is the great thing. Jesus died for all sins. Everyone’s sin. That means all my sin. It means everything that my neighbor has done to me, Jesus has died for, too. And thus I see their sin differently. Yeah, it hurts. So what? Jesus died for it. That person is mean. So what? Jesus died for them.

And seeing that, we get to do something awesome and earth shattering. We proclaim that Jesus died for them, and that they are forgiven. And that is literally earth shattering–Jesus died and there were earthquakes and saints raised from the dead and other wild stuff. Because even as strong as those sins are, even as big of jerk as that person is (or you are sometimes), it can’t stop the bigger and more awesome truth that Christ Jesus, God Almighty Himself, died for the sins of the world.

Don’t let someone’s sin lead you into a giant drama ball. Christ freed you from that. Christ died for you and for them, and so you are free to simply point to Christ, in all times and in all places and for all people. Yes, and that means even for the folks who are almost as big of sinners as you are, because the saying is faithful, Christ died for sinners, of whom I am the chief (1 Timothy 1:15). And if Christ died for me, He certainly died for this fellow who’s been a jerk to me lately, and that is nothing less than awesome.

Rev. Eric Brown is pastor of Trinity Lutheran Church in Herscher, Illinois.

Paul Norris

Even though the Lent season is well upon us, we may mark it in several ways. Some of us may have marked the start of Lent with Ash Wednesday and the imposition of ashes on our foreheads. Some might have “given up” something for lent, or some might have decided to more earnestly devote themselves to reading of the scriptures. I, for one, have never been too good at either of those things. One year I tried to give up favorite indulgence: Golden Oreo Double stuff cookies. I was mostly successful, but several weeks into Lent, I slipped up. I unconsciously grabbed some cookies and started to eat one. I realized what I had done about one chew into the first cookie. I put the rest back into the package and spit out the one in my mouth into the trash.

I felt terrible for the rest of the day that I had not been able to keep my promise to God and go without a cookie. Sure I could try to blame it on my wife for buying the cookies and leaving them out, or some other rationalization. But that is not really being honest. The fact is, I stink at keeping my promises to God. I was so disturbed by my inability to keep this one thing–not eating Oreos during Lent–that I spoke to my pastor about it. My gracious pastor was quick to point out that despite our shortcomings and inabilities to keep promises, God never breaks His promise to us. It may seem weird to be disturbed by eating an Oreo, but thank God my pastor was there to comfort me with the Gospel. I may be off the mark a little but this is what I have learned about my life because of Lent; I cannot keep my promises to God, but He always keeps His promise to me by sending His Son, Jesus, to die on the cross for us! Dr. Luther once said, “The Law is for the proud and the Gospel for the brokenhearted.” I was brokenhearted because of my failure, but the Gospel gave me such comfort.

For me, and maybe for you, Lent is a church season which I honestly don’t like that much. Your church may start with Ash Wednesday. For all intents and purposes, it is like any other Divine Service that includes confession and absolution, chanting the Psalms. But then the Alleluias are missing. As the weeks of Lent go on more and more stuff goes missing from the services. The chanting stops and the words are only spoken. Finally, on Good Friday during the Tenebrae service, it is about all I can take. There are no paraments at all in the sanctuary or on the altar, the crucifix is covered up, no chanting, no closing hymn, not even a soft organ postlude to lead us out. I don’t know about you but I hate that everything I love about the Divine Service is gone. It nearly leaves me in tears. I feel very distant from God and Christ on Good Friday. I long for Christ to be back. According to my pastor this is exactly what it is supposed to make me feel like. My mind goes to the suffering that Christ endured for us in His death on the cross. I feel ashamed that I have caused my Savior this pain and anguish. “Only three days and then Easter,” I tell myself. “There is hope; Easter is coming…”

It is a long three days, three days that I think and meditate on the suffering of our Savior. When Easter morning does arrive, the Divine Service is everything I need to lift me out of the Lenten funk. We chant the Psalms, we sing “This is the Feast”, and during the Sanctus the organist even rings the zimbelstern which I haven’t heard in weeks! Christ is risen! He is alive! My heart is filled with thanksgiving to God for sending His Son Jesus for us. I don’t deserve it and I have not kept any promises to God, but He still kept His, and sent His Son to earth for us. What amazing love the Our Father in heaven has for us wrenched, sinful, deceitful, despicable people. Despite all our sins and doubt God kept His Lenten promise!

And that, to me, is the purpose of this Lenten season: to demonstrate to us that even though we might try to be holy or sanctified, we cannot be holy or sanctified without Christ. It is Christ alone who paid the debt for our sin on the cross, and it is Christ alone who triumphed over death on Easter morning. In Genesis 3:15 God made a promise to Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden that He would send a savior to crush the serpent’s head. “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.”

God has kept His promise and sent us Jesus, and He has paid the debt of our sin on the cross and triumphed over sin, death and the devil forever. Thanks be to God for Jesus!

Paul Norris worked for 10 years as a police officer in the Dallas/Ft. Worth metroplex. He now works as the administrative assistant at Faith Lutheran Church in Plano, Texas.

Rev. Eric Brown

Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God – 1 Peter 2:16

I was going to start this by saying, “I’ll let you in on a little secret.” But, it’s not a secret. Well, it shouldn’t be, but we treat it like it is, covering it up, not wanting to tell people about it, being bashful and embarrassed about it. We shouldn’t, but we do. Well, here it goes: You don’t have to impress anyone.

There it is. The great wonderful truth of the Scriptures, the great freedom of Christ that we in American like to bury, that we try to kill. You don’t have to impress anyone. When you go and live, you don’t need to impress a single person, and you certainly don’t have to try to wow God. You are free. When Christ Jesus died and rose from the dead for you, He freed you from the burden of ever having to try to impress anyone, because you are no longer judged by what you do, but rather by what He has done for you.

Live as a person who is free–free in Christ. This doesn’t mean “Woohoo! Now I can go be nuts!” I mean, you’re free, but that doesn’t mean you should be dumb, and all sin is at its heart dumb. Seriously. It’s dumb. It doesn’t really work out right. No, you are free to go and be a servant, to show love and compassion, and it doesn’t matter one bit if the world or the people around you think your service and love to others is dumb.

Because that’s the truth. The world thinks showing love is dumb. The world will think that showing Christ’s love to others will make you a sucker, a mark, and easy target. So what…you’re free! You don’t have to live for yourself; Christ lives, and He lives for you. You’re free of making yourself an idol and free to show love. 

 The self-righteous think that showing love is dumb. It’s not impressive, it’s not nice and clean. Showing love to your neighbor means meeting them at their lowest, and that’s icky. It means covering your neighbor’s shame with no one hearing about it, no one praising you. The self-righteous can’t handle that; the whole point for them is to be able to say, “Hey, look at me.” So what! You’re free. Christ draws your eyes off of even yourself and on to Him. You’re free of those self-justification games; free to show love.

The truth is, it’s all about what Christ has done. He has lived, died, and risen again. And He has done this for you. And He’s done this for your neighbor. And–this is pretty neat–He even uses you to give His own blessings of care, compassion, love, mercy, forgiveness to your neighbor. All that good stuff that He does through you and it doesn’t matter a hill of beans that the world doesn’t like it or that the smug don’t like it. You’re free–free in Christ.

Rev. Eric Brown is pastor of Trinity Lutheran Church in Herscher, Illinois.

Kate Olson

Lent provides an opportunity to talk about ashes, death, guilt, forgiveness, sin, baptism, and Christ. Log onto any social media site now and there is an abundance of blogs and posts discussing the purpose of this season in the Church Year. Lent brings to remembrance the reason the Word became incarnate. It also provides a special time to focus on repentance.

Lent is the season where we dwell especially on our own sin and repent our hearts out. God gives us that gift. It’s free. We get to repent. We wouldn’t be able to do it without the Spirit in our breast. We repent because we are preparing for the Gospel to be shouted from the rooftops-declared from every pulpit and at every altar on Easter. We don’t rejoice yet. We repent. Repent, repent, repent. Hang our head, tear our clothes, don the ashes, even on our very foreheads. We mourn our own deaths in the sickness that is sin, while being reminded of the other death we’ve been baptized into: Christ’s.

Lent is a gift. Every single sin has been completely wiped away. They are paid for. We can repent with full confidence during Lent. We can repent with full confidence anytime, but Lent provides that special opportunity to dwell on our own wickedness and repent of it.

But we’ve heard that before. The pastor preached that back on Ash Wednesday. If we listened closely, we would know he preaches that every Sunday. It’s pretty simple. So then, why don’t we repent? Why don’t we confess those deep, dark sins that eat away at our hearts in the midnight hours? They make us sick. They cause self-hatred and every manner of defiance in our lives. We swing between justifying those nasty secrets and mercilessly attacking ourselves for them. We all sin. We all have these hidden tumors. We don’t repent. Indeed, we pray God will hide the tumors so Christ, our Doctor, and His earthly shepherds won’t find them. After all, our cancer has been cured. Please, Christ, don’t go looking for more.

But why? What are we afraid of? The neighbor in the pew who will recoil from shock? But doesn’t he have his own sickness? Are we afraid God won’t forgive that one extra-vile sin? Or maybe we’re afraid of the temporal consequences. Perhaps we’re afraid that if we repent, we’ll have to give up doing the sin. And as much as we hate that sin, our Old Adam loves it. If we repent, we have to stop sinning, and we can’t stop sinning so isn’t repentance meaningless? How could Christ cover all of that? Sure, He forgives us. He died for us. He even rose again for us. But that can’t save us from everything that follows the repentance, right? No, it’s too tough. Keep it hidden. Keep it safe.

What do we think Lent is for? What do we think repentance is for? It’s for THAT sin. It’s for THAT tumor! And we don’t have any reason to hide it from the Good Doctor. It doesn’t mean the terminal cancer is back. It’s what’s left over from the cancer that was annihilated when God “delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of His Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins” (Colossians 1:13-14). Tell Christ confidently! We don’t tell Christ so He can pay for it. We tell Christ so He can remind us it’s already been paid for. We tell Christ so He can say, “Yes, and what of it? It cannot kill you. It’s already gone.”


The darkest, nastiest, most disgusting place in your soul has Christ in it, which means it can’t truly be dark. Be honest. Look at that sin, knowing full well that Christ already knows it. He knew it when His flesh tore on the nails. Repent confidently. It is already finished. And He has already begun the good work in you.

Kate Olson is a member of Mount Hope Lutheran Church in Casper, Wyoming, and teaches 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade at Mount Hope Lutheran School.