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Equal to the Apostles

On July 21, 2005, during the “Dare To Be Lutheran” Higher Things conference, twelve hundred people attended Divine Service at the Chapel of St. Timothy and St. Titus on the campus of Concordia Seminary. Rev. Todd Peperkorn presided as Celebrant, and the Rev. Dr. Norman E. Nagel preached for the Festival of St. Mary Magdelene on the text Luke 7:36–50. This is the text of his sermon.

 

It’s risky, it really is, to invite Jesus in as Simon discovered. He had heard about Jesus. Everybody has heard something about Jesus. But that something might be just about enough—enough to have sorted Him out, got His number, put Him in His place, nice Jesus. More might be risky. He is so difficult to keep under control.

Simon was going to have a closer look at Jesus. He might find him useful. Luke tells of Jesus as one whom you cannot fool. He knows what’s coming at Him, but that doesn’t stop Him. He accepts Simon’s invitation. Simon doesn’t realize what he is in for. He expects to measure Jesus up and decide what’s the use of Him. What happens is that Simon is the one who gets judged, and that with Jesus you can’t play measurements. Simon was the host. He would call the shots according to his rules. Jesus would be at the receiving end of the way Simon played it.

What spoils his game, what shouldn’t have happened, is this woman off the street with a very poor reputation. She would never be invited to Simon’s table, but there she is, drawn in by Jesus. She came at Jesus from behind. She wanted Him to be for her. She didn’t have any chips to lay down to play any games with. She was just there, all of her. She had been played games with, games in which she hadn’t been cared about, but games that were only for having the use of her. That can be done for sex, for selling, or in all the ways people would manipulate you to their use or program.

The woman had heard something of Jesus. She hoped He might not be like that. She did not attempt to work Him. She was simply there. Nothing held back to negotiate with. On His feet her tears, a sadly worn and damaged woman. Jesus knew what with her was coming to Him. Simon came at Him to sit in judgment on Him. This woman was judged enough already. Would Jesus be different?

Today’s Gospel says, yes, Jesus is different. Jesus is something else. There’s what’s in Jesus that’s nowhere else. He doesn’t play the games by which the rest of the world tries to get along. Jesus is the opposite of all that. Yet just to say what Jesus is the opposite of is to submit Him to that standard. He doesn’t suffer Himself to be measured by any of the measurements we may try out on Him.

Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” No one had ever loved her like that before.

So what’s with Jesus forgiving sins? “Who is this, who even forgives sins?” Only the Lord God Himself can do that. Jesus doesn’t stop to argue with them about that. He is there for this woman—all of Him. He is such a Jesus as He gives to her. “That’s my Jesus,” says faith.

He said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” Does your faith save you or does Jesus save you? Spurious alternative. Can’t have one without the other. Loads of people try to have a Jesus, but not by faith. That’s the Jesus they have measured Him up to be, one that suits them.

Faith rejoices to be given the whole of Jesus, all of Jesus, “for you,” and that is then always more and more beyond measurement. There is a love beyond measure.

To Simon, who is doing the measuring bit, Jesus says big sins, big forgiveness, big love. Jesus is still trying to get through to Simon, to free him up from his measurements for judging Jesus. Take a look, Simon, at the way the measurements go. How do you stack up that way?

That’s all been left behind with the woman. She’s been given more Jesus than she could ever have dreamed of. Glad of such a Jesus—that’s faith. That’s the joy of faith, the joy of Jesus, the joy of those whose sins He forgives.

“Go in peace” —these are the words of Jesus that He speaks to you by His use of the minister’s mouth. After, by His use of the minister’s hands, He has given into your mouth His body and His blood, given and shed for you for the forgiveness of all your sins, and more. Your sins are not the meas- urement, the size, of His love.

Then leave your sins behind you, all of them, big and small. He has answered for them in your place at Calvary with His body and His blood. Take and eat, take and drink, He says, my body, my blood, given and shed for you. “Your faith has saved you.” Your Jesus has saved you beyond measure with His body and His blood. “Go in peace.” Amen.

 

Amen, indeed. Thank you, Dr. Nagel.

— all of us at Higher Things

Categories
Catechesis

The Thing About Mary

Everyone focuses on Mary as being the mother of our Lord, especially at Christmas time, and for good reason! God thought so much of women, so much of motherhood that He created us with the ability to bear children. He gave His Son a mother who would carry Him in her body, nurse Him at her breasts, change his dirty diapers, and protect and love Him as only a mother can. Pretty amazing!

Mary’s faith is what has always astounded me. If some strange guy appeared out of nowhere and started talking to me, telling me that I’d suddenly be pregnant, but not by any man–by the Holy Spirit; that my son would be the Son of God, and reign forever on the throne of David, “Amen, may it be to me as you have said,” would hardly be my response.

But Mary is utterly unflappable! No matter what comes her way, she takes it all in stride. If a doubt crosses her mind, if she’s ever worried or scared, she doesn’t text all her friends, venting all her fears to them. I doubt she’d even put it on her Facebook status.

Pregnant outside of marriage? No fun, but no problem either. The rumors about what kind of girl she was have been flying for a while now. They still continue today with some modern scholars. But God won’t have Joseph dump her or scandalize her any more than she already has been. He’s going to be good to her–especially in this. He’s going to do great things for her. He has to. Holy is His Name.

Just when she’s getting used to it all and getting ready for the big day, there’s a new twist. Joseph has to go to Bethlehem and Mary has to go with him even though she’s literally about ready to give birth. It’s a really long journey, even if Joseph finds a donkey for her to ride on, like in the Christmas card pictures. Either way, her doctor wouldn’t approve.

Of course, that’s when things really start to get crazy! Her water breaks while they’re in Bethlehem. And all the hotels are completely booked because everyone and their uncle is in town for Caesar’s census. The best Joseph can find for them is a stall in a barn. Seriously? But not even so much as a tweet from Mary to complain about her incompetent husband, the less than 5-star accommodations, or the pain of having to deal with it all during the throes of labor.

No doctor, no nurses, no latex gloves, no anti-bacterial soap, not even a reasonably clean bed to put the Baby in once He’s born. She has to lay Him in a manger. It’s a good thing she packed extra swaddling cloths! Just when she’s about to catch some rest after a really long, hard day, visitors show up. Dirty, smelly, low-class shepherds from the hills outside of Bethlehem. Come on, God! Can’t she even get a decent nap?

The shepherds tell Joseph and Mary about the miraculous visit from the angels and how they were told where to find the Baby. The whole heavenly host had shown up in the skies to announce the birth of God incarnate to the shepherds, continuing their praises of Him on earth just like they do without ceasing in heaven.

Wait a second. Do these filthy men get the big angelic show and Mary gets the stinky shepherds? That’s so not fair! “But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.” (St. Luke 2:19 ESV)

Mary just takes it all in. She treasures it all up–each precious moment. She doesn’t get negative. She doesn’t complain or whine. She doesn’t even get pouty. She’s not ungrateful or ungracious, for even a second. Why would she be? Mary actually believes what the angel told her.

She receives it all–that’s faith! She believes that she is one of God’s favorites! She knows without a doubt that everything that happens, no matter how unbelievable and unexpected, is a gift from her heavenly Father who loves her and only has good things for her. How could He not? He’s given this little Baby, cooing and gurgling in her arms, to save her from everything that could possibly harm her.

The thing about Mary is that it’s never really about Mary. Her faith is in Jesus, her receiving is from Jesus. Her salvation has been accomplished by Jesus. Yours, too. So be at peace. Trust that, in Christ, you are also one of God’s favorites and He has nothing but good for you. How could He not? He’s given you His Son.

Pause for just a brief moment as you think about Jesus and contemplate Mary. She is the epitome of femininity, but not simply because she gives birth to Christ and is His mother. She is a miraculous example of faith, of receiving, of trusting, of submitting. On her own, she’s just as full of doubts as the rest of us, but in Christ, she is quiet and full of peace. Mary is an example, not just for women, but for all of us who are the Bride of Christ.

 

This article originally appeared in the Winter 2011 issue of Higher Things Magazine.

by Sandra Ostapowich

Categories
Current Events

The Surreal Life: Suffering Under the Cross

“I can’t believe this is really happening. This is so unreal. I never thought this would happen to me.”

Imagine hurriedly packing what stuff you could into the car and just leaving your home, your job, your friends, your life. Picture yourself riding down the road, unsure of where you are going, or when, how or even IF you would ever return…yet knowing that even if you did, life from that moment on would never be the same. Waking up in a strange place with strange people around you, watching things happen around you from the fringes of life…it all feels very surreal.

Everyone and their uncle has advice for people suffering in these kinds of situations. We hear similar words all the time, and a lot of them even come from well-meaning fellow Christians.

“Don’t worry. God has a plan.” Hello? Did God plan this? I don’t like this plan at all, is there a Plan B? “Things will get better eventually.” You must not understand just how bad things are – I really don’t think I’ll make it to “eventually”. “God is teaching you a lesson, you need to believe harder and live better.” Couldn’t He have just TOLD me this stuff?

We even give ourselves advice in our internal dialogues. “God is punishing you. He’s abandoned you. You don’t matter to Him. Shoot, God may not even exist, how could He let THIS happen to you?”

Like the Psalmist, we shake our fists at God and demand to know why. We cry out and plead to know how long this pain will go on. We become fearful, afraid to trust and let ourselves get comfortable with life again because we’ve learned just how quickly it can change…or end.

We actually think we deserve better. We think we’re pretty good people, for the most part, living decent, responsible, productive lives. It’s those other people over there, the bad people, the sinners who deserve to suffer for their sins.

Oh, wait…I’m a sinner. Everything that I suffer really is my fault, whether my own personally, or as a result of my sins in Adam. That’s why we confess every Sunday that we justly deserve to suffer God’s temporal and eternal punishment. How selfishly idolatrous we’ve been!

How faithless! Now what? We’ve lost everything – goods, fame, child and wife – and then to realize that even our faith has been almost completely misdirected back upon ourselves. What could possibly remain to give us reason to want to wake up for another day?

Let’s be honest. Most days baptism doesn’t mean much to us nor does it play a very significant role in our lives. We just don’t give baptism much thought. But when everything in our lives is turned upside down and we’re trying to find something, anything, to cling to that is stable and not going to disappear like everything else, Christians have been given Baptism.

It is by baptism, the external application of water and the Word of God’s promises of forgiveness, eternal life, and salvation to us, that we receive all things in our lives as gifts from God. In Baptism, God adopts us into His family and makes us heirs of His kingdom with Christ. In baptism, God promises to give us everything that He has given to Christ and to love us as He loves the Son. When we remember that we have been baptized, we remember that God will not punish us as we deserve, He punished Christ for all our sins already. God doesn’t hate us, He hated Christ because of all our sins that He took upon Himself and He made Christ His enemy on the Cross for us. God has not abandoned us. He abandoned Christ for us and for our salvation.

To say, “I am baptized,” is to cling to those promises God gave us in baptism. Faith holds God to His baptismal promises, even when everything in our lives, all the voices of people around us and even within ourselves tempt us to doubt His Word, to curse God and die just to end the suffering. When the only good thing we can find in our days and lives is to be able to say, “I am baptized,” rejoice! You have already been given everything. Things aren’t just going to get better one day when we’re in heaven – all of heaven was given to us in Baptism.

Only by faith are we freed to see even tragedies in our lives as gifts from God. Like the blind man at the well, our suffering under the Law is an opportunity to repent of our sins and be turned once again to the waters of our Baptism. In suffering, strange as it sounds is a chance we wouldn’t have otherwise had to glorify God and bear witness to Christ. Those experiences borne out of tragedy nuance our vocations and increase unique opportunities for the Spirit to reach people with the Gospel. Only faith tells us that the suffering we experience is not condemnation.

You are not just a sister, you are the sister of a developmentally disabled sibling. You are not just a son, you are a son who lost his mother to cancer. You are not just a wife, you are a domestic violence survivor. You are not just a southerner, you lost everything you had to Hurricane Katrina – everything but the one thing that cannot be taken away. You are baptized.