Martin Luther

Oct

2023

A Reformation message: We cling to the gospel

The law condemns. The gospel saves.

by David Sellnow

“I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel—not that there is another gospel, but there are some who are confusing you and want to pervert the gospel of Christ” (Galatians 1:6,7).
“To be convinced in our hearts that we have forgiveness of sins and peace with God by grace alone is the hardest thing.” – Martin Luther, Commentary on Galatians (1535), translated by Erasmus Middleton (1833).

One day I was driving down the street and did a double take on a church sign. The sign said, “The death of Christ will not be your pardon.” As I drove by, it was like a slap in the face. I stopped; I turned around. Then I realized it was a two-part sign. I had read the back of the sign first. From front to back, the sign said this: “If the life of Christ is not your pattern … the death of Christ will not be your pardon.”

That wasn’t really much better than seeing the back of the sign all by itself. What was that sign telling people? “If you don’t do what Jesus would do, then what Jesus did on the cross doesn’t count for you.” In other words, you’d better straighten up and live right or God won’t love you and Jesus won’t forgive you. That sort of message puts your works first and God’s forgiveness second. The Bible teaches it the other way around: God’s forgiveness comes first, atones for all your sins. By this grace, your heart then becomes motivated to live according to a godly pattern.

It’s easy for us to get that message turned around. It’s not uncommon for individuals to put the burden on themselves to make their salvation happen. I have known persons who made multiple altar calls. They’d go up and devote themselves to Jesus, then when they failed to live perfectly, the onus was on them to start all over again, as if it all depended on them. I know people who have been baptized multiple times. They saw baptism as their own pledge or promise to God. Each time they’d slip in their commitment or break a commandment, they felt they needed to get baptized again, commit themselves again.

Those are law-oriented views. Law condemns. When you read the Ten Commandments, you don’t come away thinking, “Oh, what a good person I am!” The commandments show you multiple ways you have failed to obey God—how you have failed to love God and love your neighbor as you should. If you make keeping commandments your way to gaining heaven, you are doomed to failure.

This is true no matter what the commandments. Look at the religions of the world. Do Muslims perfectly obey the Five Pillars of Islam? Do Buddhists adhere perfectly to Buddha’s Noble Eightfold Path? Do Mormons follow to perfection the teachings of Joseph Smith? We ultimately fail under any system of commandments.

You could write your own commandments. Make them things you think you could do. Let’s say you were to start the First Church of Healthy Living, and you had just three laws:

Do not eat sweets or desserts.
Exercise 40 minutes a day.
Eat a bran muffin for breakfast every morning.

Even if you believed your eternal salvation depended on keeping those commands, there would come a day you didn’t feel like exercising. There would be a morning you didn’t care for a bran muffin. You’d have moments of intense temptation when you just had to have chocolate. You would fail at your own religion. You would fall into sins against your own commands.

Scripture makes it clear: “All who rely on the works of the law are under a curse. … No one is justified before God by the law” (Galatians 3:10,11). Law can’t save us. Commandments are not stepping-stones into heaven. The law leaves us condemned.

When a religious approach (like the church sign I mentioned) speaks of Jesus but then adds conditions you must fulfill, that isn’t really gospel. Gospel means good news. As soon as you add some obligation of law keeping to the gospel of Christ, you have perverted it. The gospel is pure good news, full forgiveness in Jesus with no strings attached. Other gospels are throwbacks to law-oriented thinking, which is humans’ instinctive approach to religion.

Daniel Csörföly (Budapest, Hungary), via Wikimedia Commons

There is only one message that saves. It is the message of “grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to set us free” (Galatians 1:3,4). Grace is unearned, undeserved, unconditional love. God gives grace. He gave his one and only Son, Jesus. Jesus, the Christ, gave himself over to death for us. He rose from death to give us life. Grace is a gift.

That message is the only spiritual message that brings us peace. Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid” (John 14:27). You need not be afraid about your salvation; Jesus guarantees it for you. You need not trouble your heart about which commands you have kept and which you have broken; Jesus forgives every sin. Jesus gives you true inner peace by cleansing away the condemnation in your conscience. He takes away all the guilt of your sin. That is the message of the gospel. It is not the world’s most popular religious message. As the apostle Paul pointed out, this message does not typically win the approval of men or please people, who are looking for some sort of self-help plan to save themselves. But we are servants of Christ. We are believers in Christ. We will go forward in Christ, continuing to proclaim the one true gospel message. All other messages condemn because they have their basis in human works, in keeping laws. The gospel of Jesus is the only message that saves.

October 31, All Hallows’ Eve, is remembered as Reformation Day, from actions take by monk and priest Martin Luther in 1517. November 1st is All Saints Day. For thoughts regarding your place as one of God’s saints, see a previous article here on The Electric Gospel: “Me, a saint?”

Scripture quotations, except where otherwise indicated, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Apr

2023

Ponderings for Palm Sunday

We Serve the One who Served Us

Do you ever feel like if people really knew you, they’d see you aren’t as good or capable as you appear to be? Psychologists call this “impostor phenomenon.” Some call it impostor syndrome, but that makes it sound like a pathology that applies to just a few, when actually this is a widespread tendency across the human experience. Even the most highly accomplished people can feel like they aren’t good enough. Maya Angelou, the award-winning author and poet, once said, “I have written eleven books, but each time I think, ‘Uh-oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody, and they’re going to find me out.’” The impostor phenomenon names the gap that persists between what we know is inside ourselves—multiple, contradictory, incoherent feelings, swirls of shame and regret and competing desires—and how we try to present a more composed, consistent version of ourselves to the world. As one of the original researchers of the phenomenon has described it, impostor feelings come from a conviction that “I have to mask who I am.” (See “Why Everyone Feels Like They’re Faking It,” by Leslie Jamison, The New Yorker, 2/6/2023.)

Beyond the psychological dimension of feeling inadequate about who we are, there’s also a spiritual dimension. In our souls, we are aware of our inferiority. It’s not because we are inferior to each other. We all are equal. But we know deep down that we fail to measure up to the standards of what we should be. In biblical terms, “there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:22,23). Inwardly, we all know that truth about ourselves … but often we are not ready to admit it. We try to mask it. We try to prop ourselves up superficially with self-image and ego, and we minimize our failures. We seek to assert ourselves, our position, and our own opinions as having high importance. In reality, we are all insignificant individuals in the sea of humanity—except for the importance and value given to each of us by a gracious God.

God is important. He is supreme, sacred, superior. Jesus Christ is as perfect as perfect can be. There is no inferiority in him. And yet he was willing to step down and lower himself, to become one with us in our struggling, imperfect world. He did so to lift us up so we can be all that we are meant to be in him. As a result, we can stop hiding behind masks and feeling like we can’t ever measure up. Through Jesus coming down to our level to redeem us and make us his own, we can be confident about ourselves and who we are, because we are God’s people. And we will serve one another and others in the same way Jesus served us.

Let’s consider Christ’s humility and the honor and worship now due to him because of what he did. Ponder these words about our King from Philippians 2:11, quoting from Eugene Peterson’s The Message translation:

Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn’t think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn’t claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death—and the worst kind of death at that—a crucifixion.
Because of that obedience, God lifted him high and honored him far beyond anyone or anything, ever, so that all created beings in heaven and on earth—even those long ago dead and buried—will bow in worship before this Jesus Christ, and call out in praise that he is the Master of all, to the glorious honor of God the Father.

Martin Luther, in a sermon for Palm Sunday concerning this Philippians scripture, commented on the description of Christ as God becoming human:

Unquestionably, Paul proclaims Christ true God. Had he been mere man, what would have been the occasion for saying that he became like a man, and was found in the fashion of other men, and that he assumed the form of a servant, though he was in form divine? Where would be the sense in my saying to you, “You are like a human being, are made in the fashion of a human being”? You would think I was mocking you, and might appropriately reply: “I am glad you regard me as a human being, I was wondering if I were an ox or a wolf. Are you crazy?” (Sermons of Martin Luther, volume VIII, page 176)

Jesus’ original identity is not as a man, but as God. He has existed from eternity. In the beginning he was with God and he was God and he is by nature God (cf. John 1:1). Even in his incarnation, becoming human, Jesus’ divine nature and form remained clear to see. He was flawless and perfect in every action. He taught the teachers, even when he was a boy. He did miracles of power and amazement that only God can do. He preached messages of authority that set him apart from all other rabbis and teachers. Even as a human being, Jesus still displayed the attributes of God. Who he was was obvious from how he was: absolutely powerful and wise and sinless. He is God.

And yet Jesus did not consider this equality with God something he had to cling to or exploit, but made himself nothing to serve us, in our humanity. Though all glory and power was naturally his, Jesus emptied himself of it. In that final week leading up to his death, Jesus set aside his powers as God. Never did he appear more human:

He would be arrested. How do human beings arrest God and take him into custody?
He would be put on trial. How can corrupt human justice accuse the one who is the judge of the universe?
He would be beaten and whipped, pummeled and punched, spit on and mocked. How can God be a victim of abuse?
He would be nailed and hanged, crucified, dead, and buried. How can God die?

God, in Jesus could do all these things, because he emptied himself of his divine rights, did not use his divine powers, and let himself stand in for us humans in fully human helplessness. He became obedient to the Father’s will, suffering for our sins. He became obedient even to the point of a most horrible death. That is how low and how humble Jesus made himself in his work of redeeming us. Again, as Luther described:

He accepted the most ignominious death, the death on the cross, dying not as a man, but as a worm; yes, as an arch-villain, a scoundrel above all scoundrels … Losing even what favor, recognition, and honor were due to the assumed servant form in which he had revealed himself, and he perished altogether. (Sermons of Martin Luther, volume VIII, page 178).

Jesus died a death reserved for only the worst in the world, when, indeed, he is the best and purest of any who ever walked this earth.

Already the way Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday showed his intent to divest himself of his regal, divine privilege. A mighty king or ruler would have ridden in on a mighty steed, an impressive horse of proud bearing and gait. Jesus comes in on a donkey – on a colt, the foal of a donkey. In modern terms, whereas great leaders parade into town in limousines with police escorts and traffic-halting motorcades, Jesus would be coming in on his own, on a bicycle – on a bike with training wheels, the baby of a bicycle. Palm Sunday was a humble entrance to what would be an even more humbling week, as Jesus very literally made himself nothing, to save us nothings and make us something.

And because Jesus did this, we worship him. God has exalted him. The Father has restored him, and Jesus sits at his right hand, in all authority and glory. We bow to Christ in love and trust and admiration, in service and praise. We serve the one who served us. He gave us an identity in him and with him, allowing us to live without putting on a mask to hide who we are.

How do we go about serving and praising Jesus as our Lord? The initial verse of Paul’s psalm of praise in Philippians tells us where we fit in: “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2:5). “Think the same way that Christ Jesus thought” (CEV). The way that Jesus humbled himself is to be a pattern for us as we live for him.

So, how humble are we? How selfless and self-sacrificing are we willing to be? How readily do we take on ourselves the form of a servant? Or do we imagine ourselves instead as masters of our own destiny, lords of our own castles, owners of our own bodies, in charge of our own possessions?

As disciples of Jesus Christ, we will not be about pushing ourselves forward. Rather, we will be about serving one another in service to God. We are God’s servants, indebted to him out of love for how he was treated so shamefully for us. We are not merely to be waiting for God to wait on us, like we’re restaurant patrons and church is where God serves up our spiritual Sunday dinner. Certainly he does serve us. That’s why we call the worship hour “the divine service.” God serves us in our souls with his word and sacraments. But if we attend church only to be served by him, to take from him, we are only considering half of the story. Then who is the Lord and who is the servant? Do we treat God sometimes like some sort of waiter or busboy, and we are the very important persons who expect him to be at our beck and call whenever we want something?

My friends, we are not lords and masters, we belong to the Lord, our Master. We remember how the Lord, our Master, lowered himself to come and serve us. Our attitude shall be the same as that of Christ Jesus. He, the God of all creation, gave up his position of power and glory to come and serve us—even to the point of pain and shame and dying for us, to forgive us of all our selfishness. Surely, now in return, we can give up ourselves and our selfish interests and become servants to him, and serve our neighbors as he served us all. We will devote heart and mind, body and soul, money and materials, energy and efforts, and our very lives to God and to his glory, at home and in our congregations and in our communities. May God by his grace and by his Spirit make that happen among us. “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” (Matthew 21:9) Let us confess and live daily the truth “that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:11), and to the benefit of our fellow, redeemed human beings.

***********
For a previous Palm Sunday blog post, see:
“Cheering on Sunday, Jeering by Friday”

Jan

2022

Hidden in Plain Sight

The Quiet Power of God’s Presence

Thoughts for Epiphany (January 6) and for the Baptism of our Lord (Sunday after Epiphany)
David Sellnow

They say that heaven is 10 zillion light years away
But if there is a God, we need him now
“Where is your God”
That’s what my friends ask me
And I say it’s taken him so long
‘Cause we’ve got so far to come

-Stevie Wonder, “Heaven is 10 Zillion Light Years Away,” Fulfillingness’ First Finale (Tamla, 1974)

Some of you might recognize those lyrics from a Stevie Wonder song from 1974. It was the case then–and remains the case always–that human eyes look for evidence of God’s presence in big, obvious ways. We think that if our lives are overflowing with an abundance of wealth and good health, that’s when God is with us. When times are hard, we assume we’ve been abandoned and God isn’t there. There are problems with this point of view. For one thing, having riches and success rarely indicates how close to God a person is. In fact, many powerful, successful persons often achieve such glories by godlessness–not by prioritizing kindness and walking humbly in the ways of God (cf. Micah 6:8). Another thing: The testimony of Scripture shows that God never abandons those who trust in his name, and he is especially with us in the experiences that challenge our faith in him.

Think of Job, who lost all his wealth and lost loved ones and cried out wondering where God was. God knew everything and was, in fact, striving to connect Job’s heart even closer to his own.
Think of the parables Jesus told. It was not the well-to-do Pharisee who was right with God as he bragged proudly of how much he’d done. The social pariah, the tax collector, who prayed, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner” (Luke 9:13)–that’s who Jesus said was exalted in God’s eyes.
It was not the rich man “dressed in purple and fine linen … who feasted sumptuously every day” that ascended into heaven on the day he died (Luke 18:19-31). The beggar who sat in the street outside the rich man’s home, whose only friends were stray dogs that licked his open sores–that’s the person Jesus said was blessed.

When we look at the world through our usual human perspective, we don’t see God in action in the obvious ways we want to see.

The way we see things and the way things really often are out of alignment. As we go about our lives, we focus on physical, material, tangible things that can easily be measured. We are not attuned to sensing spiritual realities–the ways that in God “we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). Psychologists have noticed something called “inattentional blindness” in how we interpret the world. Rather than noticing each detail around us, we tend to concentrate on the things most important to us. We see things in the context of existing mental frameworks that we have adopted (Kendra Cherry, “Inattentional Blindness in Psychology, VeryWellMind, 5/4/2020). If you’ll allow me to apply that principle in a broader way, our earthbound primary focus notices the flow of what’s happening outwardly in our lives, and we miss many details of what God is doing in and through and underneath those events. While “no one has ever seen God” (John 1:18), the hand of God is evident in things that can be seen. “Ever since the creation of the world, God’s eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made” (Romans 1:20). But we tend not to look past outward appearances, and so we miss seeing important truths. “Focusing our attention on one thing can cause us to overlook another” even if the other is right in front of us. (Daniel Nevers, “A Brief History of Hiding in Plain Sight, Mills College Art Museum, 2019). That’s how we tend to be with the manifestations of God that are given to us. God shows himself, but human beings mostly fail to pay attention to these evidences of God. Spiritual realities escape our notice, hidden in plain sight all around us.

Think about the ways God made himself known when Jesus Christ came into our world. There were clear manifestations of the miracle of redemption God was bringing about, but most people’s attention was aimed in other directions. When God chooses to make his presence seen and known, he often does so in what seem like insignificant ways.

When Jesus was born, he arrived in one of the world’s least significant places, the little town of Bethlehem. The King of kings might be expected to be found in a palace, at the center of politics and power. Yet when astronomers from an eastern land came looking for him in Jerusalem, the king in Jerusalem had to consult Jewish religious scholars to ask where the Messiah was to be born (Matthew 2:4).
The woman who had given birth to Jesus was no one of fame or acclaim. She and Joseph, the legal father of the virgin-born child Jesus, both were “descended from the house and family line of David” (Luke 2:4), but otherwise they were pretty much nobodies. Joseph was a carpenter (Matthew 13:55). Mary was his teenage wife, who herself said the Lord had “looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant” when choosing her to bear the Christ child in her womb (Luke 1:48).
When Jesus was anointed to begin his work as Teacher and Savior, there was no grand national ceremony with parades and dignitaries. Rather, John, a cousin of Jesus, served as the prophet to point to Jesus as the Messiah. John lived in the wilderness by the Jordan River, wearing clothing of camel’s hair and subsisting on a diet of locusts and wild honey (Matthew 3:4). John proclaimed “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Mark 1:4), and people did come to be baptized. Then Jesus requested that John baptize him also–“to fulfill all righteousness,” as Jesus insisted (Matthew 3:15). At Jesus’ baptism, “the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased’” (Luke 3:22). But I wonder if most people who were there when that happened heard and saw things differently. “Look at that, a dove just landed on him,” I imagine many said, not understanding the spiritual significance. And, as happened on another occasion when the Father spoke audibly from heaven, rather than hearing the words “This is my Son, the Beloved,” the crowd standing there may well have thought, “Was that thunder?” (cf. John 12:28-29).

Our eyes and ears aren’t attuned in such a way that we grasp the workings of God, even when they happen right in front of us. Think of baptism itself, the holy act by which God claims us as his own. What do we see? Ordinary water, nothing special. A few simple words, as we are baptized into “the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28:19). When we have our baptisms, there is no dove that miraculously appears or audible voice speaking from the skies. But with eyes of faith, we confess that “baptism is not simply plain water,” but that “it is water used according to God’s command and connected with God’s word.” We believe beyond what we can see, that baptism “brings about forgiveness of sins, redeems from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation to all who believe” (Martin Luther’s Small Catechism). So also with communion, the Lord’s Supper. We eat and drink the most basic sorts of things – little bits of bread, small sips of wine. But because such simple actions were directed by Christ himself, whoever believes his words “has what they declare, namely, forgiveness of sin” (Martin Luther’s Small Catechism).

Such is God’s way of making himself known to us, his way of connecting himself to us, of doing the miraculous for us. It’s not typically in the spectacular, but in things that seem everyday and ordinary. Do you remember Naaman, “commander of the army of the king of Aram, a great man and in high favor”–but who suffered from the disease of leprosy (2 Kings 5:1)? Naaman had a slave girl who had been captured from the people of Israel. The slave girl urged her master Naaman to go see the prophet in Israel for healing. Naaman went to Israel, and the prophet Elisha merely sent a messenger to tell him to go wash in the Jordan River seven times and he’d be healed (2 Kings 5:10). Naaman became angry and began to leave, because he was expecting some great and mighty prophet to “come out and stand and call on the name of the Lord” and wave his hand over Naaman in dramatic fashion and cure the disease (2 Kings 5:11). Naaman had to be convinced by others of his servants, who said to him, “If the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it” (2 Kings 5:13)? So, Naaman did the simple thing the prophet had said, and he was healed.

That’s how it often is with God. As Elisha’s teacher, Elijah, had learned, don’t expect God to show up by splitting mountains in half or shaking the earth beneath our feet. God more likely will make his presence known in what Elijah heard as the “sound of sheer silence” (1 Kings 19:12), or “a still, small voice,” as the King James Version of the Bible expressed it. Every day, in all sorts of seemingly ordinary ways, God makes his presence known and shares his grace by the life and witness of people who are acting in his name.

There is the son who visits his elderly mother every weekend, spends time with her, takes care of chores around the house for her, cooks a meal for her. And when she has to go to a nursing home, the son continues to visit, even as his mother becomes more confined, her health diminishes, and her memory fades away.
There is the mother whose toddler is throwing a tantrum and cannot calm down, so she sits down on the floor and gathers the child in her arms and just holds on, closely, securely, through all the kicks and screams, until the toddler finally melts into her embrace and hugs her back and says, “I’m sorry, Momma. I love you, Momma.”
There is the student who sees a schoolmate being picked on by others, avoided and ostracized and gossiped about for being different–and this classmate seeks out and befriends the outcast. They sit together in the cafeteria, spend time together studying and not studying (just hanging out), making it clear to everyone that acceptance and understanding are better than prejudice and pettiness.

Those could be just human actions of kindness, yes. In many cases, though, they are far more than that. They are the acts of God’s people making God’s love known in the ordinary course of events, doing things that are, in fact, extraordinary. God is working to make himself known to others through you–ordinary people in your everyday lives. Nothing spectacular. Nothing dazzling. Just you laboring patiently to serve your family, your neighbors, your community. Just you loving earnestly and committedly, caring for others with hearts that have been invigorated by the Spirit of Christ. That’s your calling as God’s people. God says to each of you, “I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. … You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you” (Isaiah 43:1,4). He also says, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior” (Isaiah 43:2). How does that help, that strength, that rescue from the Lord usually show up in your lives when you are hurting or in trouble? Through the actions of people doing simple things, basic, necessary things, in God’s name. The neighbor who shovels your sidewalk or snowblows your driveway–because he knows you are away from home, caring for a sick relative. Fellow church members who take turns dropping off meals at your home–because you are the caregiver for a disabled family member or for your spouse who is going through chemotherapy, and they want to help bear your burdens. Complete strangers who contribute to an online plea for funds to help with extensive medical bills incurred from a major surgery or a lengthy stay in the hospital ICU recovering from disease.

Every now and then, God has intervened in history with supernatural interruptions of natural events. But more often, God does his work through us, his people, in less astonishing ways. Let me remind you again of the experience of God’s prophet Elijah. Elijah had the experience of God making his presence obvious and forceful and explosive. Elijah prevailed over the enemies of God by calling on God to do a miracle, to consume a sacrifice with fire sent from heaven. And God did so, spectacularly. “The fire of the Lord fell and consumed the burnt offering, the wood, the stones, and the dust, and even licked up the water that was in the trench” around Elijah’s offering (1 Kings 18:38). But the perspective of the world doesn’t readily change when a miracle like that happens. In fact, the enemies of God (and of Elijah) only got more determined against God’s plans and against God’s prophet. Death threats were issued from the royal household against Elijah, and he ran. He ran back to the mountain where God had once revealed himself to Moses, and felt ready to die. “I’ve had enough,” he said to God. “Take away my life” (1 Kings 19:4). Instead, God told him to get up and he would reveal himself to Elijah. God did show himself, but not in expected ways. Not in a mighty, raging wind. Not in a rock-smashing earthquake. God revealed himself In a still, small voice, in the “sound of sheer silence” (I kings 19).

God’s powerful presence is often in the still, small voice–a voice carried out into the world by individuals, one at a time, by people like Elijah, by people like you and me. God’s way of enacting change in the hearts of people, one person at a time, is by the simple testimony of his words on our lips and his love lived out in our lives. He brings about the miracle of salvation by one baptism, then another baptism, then another, sending his Spirit to live in each baptized person’s heart and life. He carries out the actions of salvation in our hearts and lives, as we who have been saved by grace through faith, “created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life” (Ephesians 3:10), go about doing those works on behalf of one another, and for our neighbors, and for our communities.

When you feel like God is 10 zillion light years away, like God is so far distant from your life that you wonder if he’s even there at all, look again. Listen again. Feel again. Take notice of the little things, the inconspicuous ways that God is showing himself. Others’ actions. Your own actions. All the everyday words and actions whereby God makes his presence known and shares his peace among us. The smallest of kind words and actions toward one of the least of those whom Jesus considers his brothers and sisters are gifts to Jesus and blessings from Jesus (cf. Matthew 25:40). As Martin Luther taught, “God is so in control that the good we do is really God’s work. We’re nothing but the hands of Christ …. In the good we do, we are ‘little Christs’ to each other” (Luther’s Works, Vol.34, p.111, Volu.24, p.226, Vol. 31, p.367-368, quoted by Mark Ellingson in Living Lutheran, August 11, 2017). May our lives each day appreciate and extend the Epiphany of Christ in this way.

Oct

2021

Faith of our fathers

Reformation Day remembrance

October 31, 2021

Doing some closet cleaning, I rediscovered a box of my father’s sermon manuscripts. Donald C. Sellnow (1928-1999) served in ordained ministry from 1954 to 1998. When I think of my parents’ faith, I can’t help humming in my head the hymn, “Faith of our Fathers.” Frederick W. Faber, who wrote “Faith of our Fathers” in 1849, was a Roman Catholic priest in England. His lyrics were penned to honor Catholic martyrs who endured persecution in the 16th century, when the Church of England was being established under Henry VIII and Elizabeth I.

Faith of our fathers! Living still,
In spite of dungeon, fire, and sword:
Oh, how our hearts beat high with joy
Whene’er we hear that glorious word.
Faith of our fathers! Holy faith!
We will be true to thee till death.

My father and mother, who were rigorous Lutherans all their lives, might object to having a Roman Catholic song in mind while remembering them. But Protestants have adopted the hymn, too, and adapted it. Faber himself had a fondness for hymns by English Protestant writers such as Charles Wesley, John Newton, and William Cowper, and he applauded the Protestant project that produced the King James Version of the Bible. When we recall the faith of those who went before us, we understand that all men and women of faith have had strengths and weaknesses. We honor their godly beliefs and consider their foibles with a forgiving spirit—the same way we hope others will regard us in our own practice of faith. Constantly seeking truth is vital. Striving to impose one’s own view of religious rectitude onto others by force is never a gospel-oriented goal.

An esteemed faith father worthy of remembrance is Martin Luther. Like other heroes of faith, Luther had his flaws. We don’t idolize him. We do give attention to the best of his hopes and thoughts and actions. October 31st commemorates the day in 1517 that Luther posted 95 theses expressing convictions about faith. These statements for debate sought to start a dialogue about what truth in Christianity means. They sparked a movement that became known as the Reformation.

I’ll share here a condensed version of a sermon my father preached in October 1973, in observance of Reformation Festival.

*****************

We Cannot Help but Speak the Things which We have Seen and Heard

by Donald C. Sellnow

What do you associate with October 31st? For many people, October 31st is Halloween, the night for tomfoolery, tricks or treats, and other such activities. Certainly, some of these things associated with October 31st are not objectionable. They may even be good, clean fun. But they are not the main thing about October 31st, which is also Reformation Day, the day on which Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to the church door at Wittenberg, touching off the great Reformation of the Christian church. By God’s grace, we continue to enjoy the fruits of the Reformation today. As heirs of the Reformation, we pray the Holy Spirit may lead us to a deeper understanding of and appreciation for the blessings and responsibilities we have as people of faith. On the anniversary of the Reformation, we are reminded that we cannot help but speak about the things which we have seen and heard.

Such an attitude of faith was expressed by the apostles Peter and John. They had been jailed for proclaiming Jesus as the crucified and risen Savior in the temple courts at Jerusalem. On the next day, they were told by community leaders to shut up about this Jesus of Nazareth, or else. The leaders thought themselves the guardians of their culture; they knew that any concession to the apostles’ testimony would mean an overthrow of their entire religious system. They knew it would mean reformation, and the last thing they wanted was a reformation.

Peter and John answered the threats aimed at them with this courageous testimony: “Whether it is right in God’s sight to listen to you rather than to God, you must judge; for we cannot keep from speaking about what we have seen and heard” (Acts 4:19,20). By the power of the Spirit, they had been led to trust in Jesus as their only Savior from sin and death. In his gospel they had found peace for their souls and strength for their lives. They had seen Jesus’ miracles and heard his teaching. They had looked and listened as Jesus lived and suffered and died, then rose from death and ascended to heaven. Through what they had seen and heard, the Spirit of God worked faith in their hearts to place all their trust in Jesus, to cling to him as their priceless treasure. And in such God-given faith, they were compelled from within to share Christ and his good news with others. They knew that is what their Savior wanted, and what he willed became their will and desire. They simply could not keep still. They could not deny the Savior who had redeemed them. They had to confess his truth and share his blessings with others—no matter what the cost. They let it be known by word and deed that they had been with Jesus.

As it was with the apostles, so it was also with Martin Luther. In pre-Reformation Europe, the vast majority of the people understood little of what the Christian faith is all about. They were steeped in superstition. Shrines displayed what claimed to be wood from the cross of Christ, bits of hay and straw from Bethlehem’s manger, wine from the wedding at Cana. These are but a few examples of supposed relics that were to be adored by the faithful. Confused doctrines, like that of purgatory, were embedded in fearful hearts. The gospel of Christ frequently was obscured by man-made rules and regulations.

Martin Luther was born into such religious conditions, and he grew up as a faithful servant of the church as it was. In his earnest searching to find certainty about salvation, he looked to the high church authorities for guidance and direction. He gave up studying to become a lawyer in order to enter a monastery, hoping there to find relief for his troubled conscience. He tried to do diligently all the works prescribed by the church. He later reflected, “I kept the rule so strictly that I may say that if ever a monk got to heaven by his sheer monkery, it was I. If I had kept on any longer, I should have killed myself with vigils, prayers, reading, and other work.” But the more Luther worked, the more miserable he became and the more his sins tormented him. When one day his Augustinian mentor, John Staupitz, counseled him to love God more, Luther burst out, “I do not love God! I hate him!”

Luther found the love of the Lord he was missing through studying Scripture. Assigned to teach Bible interpretation at the University of Wittenberg, Luther was led into an intensive study of God’s Word. In God’s Word, Luther saw the pure and simple truth of the gospel, so long hidden and obfuscated, that a person is justified by faith alone in Christ without the deeds of the law. The answer to sin was to be found not in what you did to correct yourself but in what Christ has done perfectly and completely for you. The way of salvation is not in human righteousness, which falls far short of divine law’s requirements, but in the all-sufficient goodness of Christ. When Luther, by God’s grace, came to see and believe this central truth of justification by grace through faith, the Reformation was born.

Once Luther understood the truth, he could not help but speak about the things he had seen and heard in God’s Word. He could have saved himself a lot of trouble had he just pondered these things in his own heart. But he could not keep quiet. The love of Christ which had captured his heart compelled him to share the good news. As he continued to search the Scriptures and see God’s truth with increasing clarity, he kept on speaking out. When religious authorities, as well as kings and princes, told him to shut up and to retract everything he had written, Luther appealed to the Word of God as the highest authority. At a meeting of the leaders of the Holy Roman Empire in the city of Worms, Germany (1521), Luther boldly asserted: “Unless I am convinced by Scripture and plain reason—I do not accept the authority of the popes and councils, for they have contradicted each other—my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and I will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. God help me. Amen.”

Like the apostles, Luther was impelled by the power of the gospel to confess the gospel. He needed to share the blessings he had found with others. And share these blessings he did, through preaching and teaching, through tracts and writings, through hymns and catechisms, and through his translation of the Bible into the language of his people. Like the apostles, he also proclaimed what he had seen and heard in God’s Word by the life which he led—a life of humble faith, of thankful love, of joyful service. The life of Luther, like that of the apostles, bore unmistakable testimony to the fact that he, too, had been with Jesus.

As it was with the apostles, and as it was with Luther, dear friends, may it be so also with us. As in the apostles’ day, as in Luther’s day, truth is clouded and obscured for the many in our day. Many do not honor God or give thanks to God (Romans 1:21). “They are darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of their ignorance and hardness of heart” (Ephesians 4:17). By the grace of God—and by his grace alone—the gospel of Christ has been revealed to us. We have seen the truth that sets us free—free in our consciences in the present time and free to live for all eternity. When the veil of spiritual ignorance is removed, we are guided by the Spirit. “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom” (2 Corinthians 3:17), a freedom that invigorates us to serve God in thankful love and seek to bring the same freedom to the souls of others.

God has given us the freeing truths of his gospel not just to be heard in our own hearts, but also to share. We don’t keep the gospel’s joy to ourselves but give good news also to others, so that their joy and ours may be full. Filled with the joy of Christ, we will talk about the Savior. We will demonstrate by our words and actions that we have been with Jesus. We will support Christian education in our congregations and study the Word diligently in our own homes. We will give toward the work of missions that strive to spread hope and truth in other communities and around the world. In the same spirit as the apostles and the spirit of the Reformation, we will not be timid or silent. Indeed, “we cannot keep from speaking about what we have seen and heard” (Acts 4:20). God help us all to hold fast to his truth and share it richly with others, no matter what the cost. Amen.

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Jul

2021

Time to Have our Hearts Checked

Hearts Full of Faith Beat Boldly in Christ

Ephesians 3:14-21, with reference to 2 Kings 4:42-44 and John 6:1-21; 9th Sunday after Pentecost

by David Sellnow

Ask kids what their favorite foods are. They’ll more likely say hot dogs, candy bars, and chips than tuna, spinach, or brussels sprouts. We don’t always wise up and change our habits when we become adults. I had a roommate one summer after college who, as far as I could tell, ingested nothing all summer long except coffee and cigarettes and occasionally mooched slices of pizza. I wouldn’t say he was the picture of health, but then, with my pizza, neither was I.

Some years ago, a study was done on the blood vessels of presumably healthy young adults (between ages 15 and 34) who died from causes other than illness. Among those in their early 30s, they found that 20% of males and 8% of females already had advanced stages of plaque buildup in their arteries. The American Heart Association has recommendations on cholesterol intake, on what foods to avoid or eat only in moderation. But as a leading doctor on that research team said, “It’s a hard sell [to] teenagers …. I have a grandson who, despite all our family discussions, still orders the double cheeseburger with bacon and fries.”

As you probably can guess, this Electric Gospel post isn’t primarily about your cardiovascular health. Each of us has a spiritual heart in us also, and what goes into our spiritual heart will determine our spiritual well-being. Let’s consider how hearts full of faith beat boldly in Christ; hearts that take in the love and strength of Christ will live in love and strength.

Consider words from this day’s Epistle lesson, Ephesians 3:14-19:

For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name. I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

When you begin a check-up on your spiritual heart’s condition, you realize that your spiritual heartbeat itself is a gift from God. When Paul said “for this reason” he thanked the Father, the reason is a theme that runs through the whole preceding portion of his Ephesian epistle: God’s saving activity for his people. God gave Christ as the Savior of the world; God raised Christ from death to reign in glory; God brought these Ephesians to trust in Christ rather than in idols; God caused the church at Ephesus to begin and grow; God gave these people a unity of heart and mind to work together for Christ’s kingdom. For all of it, God was responsible and God was to be praised. He is the one from whom the Ephesians received their spiritual heartbeat; he is the one from whom his whole family derives its name.

The same is true for us. We were in a dead, sinful state before God brought our spirits to life in the miracle of baptism. From that moment on God has been the one to strengthen and preserve faith in our hearts. In order for us to stay healthy spiritually, we need a steady, nourishing diet provided by God’s Spirit. Soaking in all the stuff you can absorb from contemporary culture can progressively harm your soul, like junk food impacts our bodies. You can get temporary boosts to your emotions or thoughts with other things, like you can artificially stimulate your body with substances like coffee and cigarettes. But there is just “one thing needful” (Luke 10:42 KJV) that can truly keep our spiritual selves healthy: the good news of love and forgiveness in Jesus.

Admittedly though, our sinful side doesn’t want the good things God gives. When the children of Israel were fed by God with manna in the desert, suited to meet all their nutritional needs, what did they say? “We detest this miserable food” (Numbers 21:5). They wanted other things (cf. Numbers 20:5). They got tired of what the Lord was giving them. We do the same thing spiritually. We look at what God is giving us in the Bible and in church, and we say, “Too much manna all the time!” We gravitate toward video games over Bible reading. We find streaming TV more interesting than sermons. We follow sports events and statistics more diligently than we search the Scriptures.

But it is through the gospel that Christ establishes himself in our hearts. We come to see how wide and long and high and deep the love of Christ is. We get to “know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge.” Paul knew the amazing heights and depths of Christ’s love. He once wrote, “I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy …. The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the foremost” (1 Timothy 1:13-15). Christ died for every sinner, for the worst of sinners. That includes you and me.

Those who by God’s Spirit come to know this wonderful truth about Jesus’ love then overflow with that love. Hearts that are “filled to the measure of all the fullness of God” will result in lives that are healthy, vibrant, and active in joyful service to others.

So, are you feeling healthy, vibrant, and full of love and joy and service? Or are you feeling a little tired, feeling worn down, feeling old? It’s not easy going through the stages of life–whether in our own individual lives or the shared life of a congregation. The Christians at Ephesus were in the first years of their church experience when Paul wrote his Epistle to the Ephesians. Paul had started the ministry in Ephesus in the late 50s. [Not the 1950s — just the 50s, the first century AD.] His letter to the Ephesians was sent back to them around the year 62. Another apostle, John, served in Ephesus later as part of his ministry. Around 95 AD, when persecution exiled John to an island off the coast from the areas he’d served, John had a different sort of letter to send to the Ephesian congregation. Jesus himself spoke these words:

I know your works, your toil and your patient endurance. I know that you cannot tolerate evildoers; you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them to be false. I also know that you are enduring patiently and bearing up for the sake of my name, and that you have not grown weary. But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first. Remember then from what you have fallen; repent, and do the works you did at first (Revelation 2:2-5).

In our individual lives, as we get older, it can be hard to maintain the passion and energy and zest for life that we had when we were younger. We may be stable and solid, but we can also get a bit stodgy, a bit stale, a bit set in our ways. Congregations can be that way, too, as they age. We can lose the love that we had at first. We grow weary. We become more mundane than spiritual, more routine than revitalized, more dreary than dynamic.

We need a reminder of the refrain that Paul put at the end of his prayer for the Ephesian church, the final verses of today’s epistle lesson: To him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever (Ephesians 3:20-21).

Too many times in our churches, we think small thoughts about our ministries. We want our congregation, our little corner of God’s kingdom, to do okay. We focus on scraping together what we’ll need to maintain what we’ve got, fund our budget, populate our programs and committees. Meanwhile, while we’re thinking about earthbound goals of that sort, God is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine. God has plans for our futures that we don’t even envision. Christ says, “My power is at work within you. My gospel is like dynamite for you, exploding with love and truth and joy and will accomplish more than you’d ever think could be done.”

Consider the other experiences which were related in the Bible readings for this Sunday. People didn’t think there was enough food to go around. In Elisha’s day, there was a famine in the land (2 Kings 4:38). Yet by the Lord’s grace, one sack of bread and grain became enough to feed 100 men in ministry training (the school of the prophets). When throngs of people kept following Jesus and had no food other than one boy who had a handful of bread loaves and a couple of fish, Jesus had no difficulty in making sure all were fed (cf. John 6:1-21). Often we think like the servant of Elisha, who looked at the resources they had and the need in front of them and said, “How can I set this before a hundred people?” (2 Kings 4:43). We can be like the disciple of Jesus who saw thousands of mouths to feed and said, “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little” (John 6:7). When we find ourselves in situations where it seems like our cupboards are empty, or our strength is gone, or storms are swirling and raging, our tendency is to think we are sunk, we will starve, we will wither away. But when we think there are no solutions, Christ creates solutions. The Lord calls on us to start with what we have and do our best. He calls us to use every opportunity and resource and talent we’ve been given and trust Christ to make it enough, to multiply it, to expand our realities beyond anything we ever thought possible.

That’s how it has always been in the history of God’s people. When his people were held in bondage in Egypt, they didn’t imagine they could be rescued. Then plagues pressured a powerful ruler to let them go; God’s miracles enabled an exodus and a return of God’s people to their own land. When the earliest Christians were banned from the temple in Jerusalem and shunned from synagogues, when they had no church buildings of their own and were persecuted as if they were some dangerous cult, they could not have imagined that in time, the Christian faith would become predominant throughout the whole Roman Empire. When the organized church got sidetracked in the centuries that followed and became stuck in its institutionalism, in its rituals and rules, in its laws and legalism, the people didn’t dream there was much hope left in the church. Their hope grew fainter still after a horrible pandemic (the Black Death) had ravaged their communities and killed a third of the population, and the church’s highest-ranking clergy had no answers. (They were more likely to preach fire and brimstone than provide comfort or reassurance.) But then the Spirit of God raised up voices of reformation, voices such as John Wycliffe, Jan Hus, Martin Luther. The good news of Jesus and the riches of his mercy were proclaimed again with eagerness and energy and grace and renewal for everyone.

You may be at a time in your life right now where you are starving for sustenance and don’t know where it will come from. You may be at a time in your congregation right now where you have mostly questions and no clear picture of what’s on the horizon for your future. But be assured of this. Our God is “able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20). The love of Christ is wider and longer and higher and deeper than you could ever measure (cf. Ephesians 3:18). Keep feeding on the Bread of Life, the spiritual food that Christ gives us, the life and truth that is Christ. He will fill your heart’s need, and he will revive your strength.

Lift up your eyes on high and see: .. [God] is great in strength, mighty in power ….
Why do you say … “My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God”?
Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless.
Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted;
but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,
they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint (Isaiah 40:26-31).

—

Scripture quotations, except where indicated otherwise, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Nov

2020

The King who Inscribes his Character on Us

A message for Christ the King Sunday

Our King does not dominate or dictate
Our King invigorates us to be like him

There are a number of churches around the world named “Christ the King.” The Cathedral of Christ the King in Mullingar, Ireland, is reportedly the first church given that name. The Cathedral of Christ the King in Atlanta is one of the ten largest congregations in the United States. Those are just a couple of the big Christ the King churches. There are numerous smaller congregations too.

I don’t know of any churches named “Christ the Tyrant” or “Christ the Despot” or “Christ the Dictator.” I Google-searched for such names, but couldn’t find any. I did find an opinion piece arguing that Christians tend to view their Lord that way–as a benevolent dictator. But if there are people of faith who take that view, they’re mistaken. Christ the King is certainly not like some military strongman or arbitrary emperor, nor even like a benevolent dictator. Christ is not someone who looks upon us as weak subjects who do his bidding simply to suit his whims. Christ did not become our king by standing above us, pointing out what we must do from moment to moment. Christ became our king by standing with us, among us, leading us in a path we could not have followed without his leadership. Jesus said to those who followed him, “I am among you as one who serves” (Luke 22:27). On the night he said that, Jesus proved his point by getting down on the floor and washing his disciples’ feet (cf. John 13).

Quite clearly, Jesus is the opposite of a tyrant. He won our allegiance by going into battle against tyrants and overlords for us. The tyrant was sin. The tyrant was the devil who accuses and all the demons that torment us. Those are the sorts of rulers that dictate and demand, that control us by fear and guilt. Christ is not like that.

Jesus is also much different from even the most benevolent dictator. Such a ruler believes that he must decide all things for the people underneath him because they are underlings and he is so much above them. Now, it is true that Christ, our King, certainly does know what is best for us. Christ is “the wisdom of God” (1 Corinthians 1:24). As high as the heavens are above the earth, so far are his thoughts higher than our thoughts (cf. Isaiah 55:9). But the fact that Christ is superior to us in all things does not mean he deals with us as inferiors. Rather, he comes alongside us and shares his life and strength with us. He invigorates us with his words, his Spirit, so that we become alive in him. We become more and more like him as we grow in our relationship with him.

I have known God-fearing people who haven’t understood this, who haven’t grasped how Christ is seeking to lead them. They trouble themselves over every detail of their lives, searching desperately for some sort of sign from God. “What is God’s will?” they’ll say; “What does God want me to do?” I knew a woman who struggled over the smallest decisions like that. She begged to know what actions God wanted her to take, almost hoping a daily to-do list would appear like handwriting on the wall, so she’d know she wasn’t making any mistakes. In her anxiousness, she once put two pens side by side on the table and asked, “Now, which pen does God want me to use? The blue one or the black one?” That’s going too far in expecting God to direct our lives. Yes, Christ is our leader by night and by day. But Jesus leads us not as though we are blindfolded and he must guide our feet for every step we take. He instills his character and his way of life in us, so that we make our own decisions as the new persons that we are in Christ (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:17). It’s an outmoded way, a childish way, to want God to dictate every direction to us, to tell us exactly what to do in every instant. It’s a new way of life, as we become mature in Christ, that we make our own decisions and take actions that flow from the mind of Christ which is in us (cf. 1 Corinthians 2:16).

Consider the Epistle assigned for this weekend for the festival of Christ the King. The prayer for the Christians at Ephesus remains an apostlic prayer for us today. Notice the emphasis on how the power of Christ works in us and inspires us as he extends his kingdom into our hearts.

I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you … and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power. God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion …. And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all (Ephesians 1:17-23).

Christ as king is head over all things for us. That’s not an image of some giant head floating in the air like the Great and Powerful Oz. There’s no false pretense of power with Christ our King. He rules in a way far better than the way any authority in this world operates. Even while Christ is seated high above in the heavenly places, he is at the same time intimately connected to us, like the head to members of the body. His thoughts pulse through us and we operate in unity with him. We are his feet to run out into the world, his hands to extend help and care to persons in his name, to put into practice his love.

Consider also the description of what Christ will find when he returns at the end of time, when he “comes in his glory, and all the angels with him” and “all the nations will be gathered before him” (Matthew 25:31-42). Who are the people he calls his own, who truly have known him?

The king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me” (Matthew 25:34-36).

When Christ says this to his people, what is their reaction? “When did we do that?” They wonder what he’s talking about. Christ’s people do such actions on behalf of “the least of these” fellow members of the human family not because they’re keeping score of their good deeds, not because they’re trying to impress God by their actions. They do such things just because that’s who they are, because the spirit of Christ inhabits them and propels them into action. The people of Christ’s kingdom serve everyone they encounter without thinking, “This is something I must do because the king has issued an executive order.” Yes, the kingdom of Christ has laws, but those laws are designed by our Lord for our good and the good of our neighbors. As we grow in our understanding and relationship with our King, we embody more and more the spirit and compassion and action that he has for all who are in need. We become Christ to our neighbors.

Martin Luther famously wrote on that theme–that we become like “little Christs.” In his booklet On the Freedom of a Christian (1520), Luther wrote:

Since God has overwhelmed me with such inestimable riches, why should I not freely, cheerfully, and with my whole heart do all that I know will be pleasing to him? I will therefore give myself, as a sort of Christ, to my neighbor, as Christ has given himself to me. I will do whatever is advantageous and wholesome for my neighbor, since by faith I abound in all good things in Christ. … We each become a sort of Christ to each other, so that we may be mutually Christs, and that the same Christ may be in all of us; that is, that we may be truly Christians.

Our life as Christ’s people, in his service, is not like serving an earthly ruler who dominates and bullies to get his way, and whose subjects survive by trying to ingratiate themselves with the ruler. We serve as people whose character has been transformed by the grace and goodness of our king. We become his allies in extending the life of his kingdom into a world that has not understood him and operates by principles so often opposite to his.

Which leads to one final point that must be mentioned. We need to take notice of the other sort of approach that predominates in this world. It is an approach not only by the rich and powerful, who lord it over others in positions of power and authority. It’s also an approach adopted by people in general toward authority — including God’s authority. It may work with the powers that be in this world, but it doesn’t work with God. In the Gospel reading for today, did you notice how those who are on the wrong side of Christ respond when Christ says they did not do the things that people of his kingdom do? They say, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you” (Matthew 25:44)? And he will answer them, “Just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me” (Matthew 25:45). They thought they had done good things.They thought of themselves as good people. They expected God should be pleased with them, because they had minded their own business and stayed out of trouble. They may even think they had done great undertakings for the King, that they would have an elevated position in his kingdom because of high-powered things that they did. Jesus described such persons in his Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 7:21-23):

Not everyone who says to me, “Lord, Lord,” will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. On that day many will say to me, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your name?” Then I will declare to them, “I never knew you; go away from me, you evildoers.”

Too often people have the wrong idea, thinking Jesus owes it to everybody to be nice to them. And they also think that if they go out of their way to do things they think God wants, that then they are entitled to extra rewards, sort of like people may think their donations or efforts on behalf of some political leader entitle them to perks and privileges in that person’s administration. But Christ our King doesn’t operate by those principles. Christ calls his people to follow him, not worldly “philosophy and empty deceit” or “human tradition” (Colossians 2:9). We are called to follow the truth according to Christ, whose kingdom is not of this world (cf. John 18:36). So let’s not be confused. Let’s not slip back into worldly thinking, into tallying up our good deeds as though keeping a scoresheet will impress Christ the King, or boasting about where we think we stand with God or how right or righteous we are. Being servants of Christ’s kingdom means setting ourselves aside and simply serving others. Christ established his kingdom by laying down his life for those whom he loved and came to serve. As servants of Christ the King, we carry on in his kingdom and extend his kingdom in the same way. We deny ourselves. We take up whatever crosses we may be asked to carry, and we do all we can to help others carry their crosses too (cf. Luke 29:23-25). As the word of our King tells us, “Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ (Galatians 6:2). That’s how we serve–and whom we serve–as the people of Christ the King.

Nov

2020

Thoughts for All Saints’ Day

All Hallows’ Eve (a.k.a. Halloween) is the day that still gets attention on everyone’s cultural calendar. In the church’s history, All Hallows’ Day, that is, All Saints’ Day, was the more important festival. All Saints’ Day (November 1) is meant to commemorate all of God’s people who have gone on to be with him in glory. It is also a recognition of our connection as Christ’s people on earth to the hosts of heaven. This installment of The Electric Gospel focuses on our identity as saints of God in Christ.

Me, a Saint?

You may not think of yourself as a saint … but think again. The definition of sainthood is often drawn too narrowly. Sainthood is not a merit badge earned by a select few who’ve lived flawless lives. If that were the definition, no one would meet the test. The Bible itself says so:

The Lord looks down from heaven on humankind
to see if there are any who are wise,
who seek after God.
They have all gone astray …
there is no one who does good,
no, not one. (Psalm 14:2-3)

Look further at Scripture, and you’ll see that those who are called “saints” encompass many souls. Consider the way the epistles address the members of churches:

“To all God’s beloved in Rome, who are called to be saints … ” (Romans 1:7).
“To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints …” (1 Corinthians 1:2).
“To the saints who are in Ephesus and are faithful in Christ Jesus …” (Ephesians 1;1).
“To all the saints in Christ Jesus who are in Philippi …” (Philippians 1:1).
“To the saints and faithful brothers and sisters in Christ in Colossae …” (Colossians 1:2).

You get the picture. There are not just a handful of holy people or “saints.” All who are in Christ Jesus are in the saintly category. “We have been sanctified [made holy] through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all” (Hebrews 10:10).

Martin Luther had much to say on this subject. For instance:

We should not deny or doubt that we are holy. It would be well to impress this deeply on people and to accustom them not to be shocked at it or hesitate to accept it. For when Christians call themselves holy after Christ, this is not arrogance; it is honoring and praising God. For thereby we do not praise the foul-smelling holiness of our own works, but his baptism, Word, grace, and Spirit, which we do not have of ourselves. He gave them to us.

As we get used to the idea that God looks at us as holy people because of Jesus, we may ask ourselves, “If Christ saved me from sin, why can’t I stop sinning?” The fact remains that we are people who have endless shortcomings. We “ fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). We sin. But sin’s result (death) is no longer our final destiny, thanks to Christ (cf. Romans 6:23, 1 Corinthians 15:54-57). Sin’s stain is cleansed from us through Christ (1 John 1:7). And sin’s power over us is no longer a stranglehold because Christ now empowers us. “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation … everything has become new (2 Corinthians 5:17).

Martin Luther frequently spoke of the fact that we are simultaneously sinners and saints — made righteous through Christ but still struggling with the reality of sin. More thoughts from Luther:

Sin remains in the believer for the exercise of grace and the humbling of pride. For whoever is not busily at work driving out sin surely sins by this very neglect. For we are called to labor against our sinful desires. By God’s mercy, he does not charge the penalty of sin against those who know the grace of God and who by grace struggle with their failings. Therefore whoever repents of sin should not think he is laying down his burdens to live a life of ease. Each confession of sin enlists us as soldiers of God to battle against the devil and the sin within us.

So, my fellow saints, let us celebrate All Saints’ Day. We honor and remember all the saints who have gone before us, called by Christ to join him in glory. And we strive as saints here on earth — called to be holy through Christ — to live lives worthy of the calling we have received in his name (Ephesians 4:1).

This is how we would describe our path as saints on earth who are heading toward heaven: “Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.… Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:12-14).

—–

Quotations from Martin Luther taken from What Luther Says, Concordia Publishing House (1959), volume III.

Sep

2020

Work is essential

by David Sellnow

When the COVID-19 pandemic began, state governors issued orders identifying essential workers whose labors were needed for community health and sustenance and safety. As pandemic conditions have persisted, we’ve come to see how work is essential for everyone. Those who’ve been forced into unemployment are painfully aware of how much their work mattered, especially as extended unemployment benefits ran out.

Even in Eden, work was provided for Adam and Eve. We may sometimes think of work as a necessary evil, but meaningful labor is actually an ongoing good that God intended for us in this world. Being on a perpetual vacation with nothing to do would not be paradise. Vacations provide needed respite from overwork. A weekly day of rest (sabbath) is a divinely designed time to withdraw from busyness and renew our spirits in communion with our Creator. But work itself is a vital part of our human experience. Anyone who has ever lost a job and been out of work knows what a blow to personal identity and security and hope it is.

Work is God’s way of providing for our needs in daily life, as well as the needs of our neighbors and communities. Studies have found that job loss and insecure employment have damaging effects on individuals’ emotional well-being and overall health. A 2009 study found that “unemployed workers died more than a year earlier than average” (Houston Chronicle, 2/1/2019). As to community wellness, a study published in 2001 in The Journal of Law and Economics found that “a substantial portion of the decline in property crime rates during the 1990s [was] attributable to the decline in the unemployment rate.” When work is unstable, our own health and the stablility of whole communities is threatened. .

All work that has a beneficial purpose is godly work. A devoted church worker, Martin Luther, labored hard to teach this truth about work outside of church. In his era, clergy persons were held to be somehow holier than ordinary people simply by virtue of the religious positions they occupied. Luther reshaped the outlook on vocation or “calling,” assigning honor to all community members who were doing good work for their neighbors.

In his address To the Christian Nobility in the German lands (1520), Martin Luther wrote: “A cobbler, a smith, a peasant—each has the work and office of his trade, and yet they are all alike consecrated priests and bishops. Further, everyone must benefit and serve every other by means of his own work or office so that in this way many kinds of work may be done for the bodily and spiritual welfare of the community, just as all the members of the body serve one another.” Luther also has been quoted saying, “Every occupation has its own honor before God. Ordinary work is a divine vocation or calling. In our daily work, no matter how important or mundane, we serve God by serving the neighbor and we also participate in God’s ongoing providence for the human race.” Marc Kolden, writing in the Lutheran Journal of Ethics (2001), emphasized that Luther’s thought wasn’t so much about what formal occupation you might have. Any and every role in which you labor for others–even “the most mundane stations” and lowest tasks–”are places in which Christians ought to live out their faith” and help others by their efforts. In his writing On the Estate of Marriage (1522), for instance, Luther highlighted the noble duty of a parent changing diapers as an act of faith and love and service.

As COVID-19 began to ravage the United States, healthcare workers were hailed by members of their communities, from the banging of pots and pans each evening at 7:00pm in New York to residents going outside and howling at 8:00pm each night in Colorado. This was welcomed as recognition of essential efforts. I pray that through this present crisis, we learn to applaud work and workers in all sorts of needed roles, and also respect and remunerate workers appropriately for what they do to hold our communities together. Many of those considered “essential workers” under governors’ orders are in positions that are paid minimum wage or not much more. In my state, someone working full-time at minimum wage must spend roughly half their income to afford a one-bedroom apartment. They’d spend quite a bit more than half their income on rent in a metro area. According to government-defined standards, households that spend more than 30% of their income on rent are defined as “cost-burdened” and qualify for public assistance. Those spending more than 50% of their income on rent are “severely cost-burdened.” Something does seem amiss when persons doing work that we consider essential to community life have a hard time making ends meet as residents in the community.

So, as we observe Labor Day, let us pray:

with deep thanks for our own employment if we continue to have employment;
with passionate concern for all who are facing unemployment or reduced employment and income;
for generous gifts to churches and charities who work with persons in need;
for strength and hope and help if we ourselves are financially burdened and at risk;
for recognition of all workers’ worth and the value of others’ work on our behalf;
for a willingness to share in supporting one another as neighbors in society;
for wise leadership in our nation and world to guide economies through difficult challenges;
for personal commitment to do all forms of labor and service as acts of faith in answer to our calling as Christ’s people.

“Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms“ (1 Peter 4:10).

“Brothers and sisters, never tire of doing what is good” (2 Thessalonians 3:13).

—-

Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

Dec

2019

Escaping the prison of guilt

Originally published on The Electric Gospel on October 30, 2015. On October 31 each year, Protestants recall the anniversary of the Reformation – a movement that began in 1517 to reclaim the life and joy and hope of the gospel within the church. Students in a history course I taught read a biography of Martin Luther, which highlighted not only his personal history but the main themes of the Reformation movement. The following student writing was an essay from a student reflecting on Luther’s experience … and her own.

*******************

Brought to life by the gospel

by Grace Williams

“I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness could be gained through the law, Christ died for nothing!” ~ Galatians 2:21

Could you imagine living in a world where everything was up to you? As Christians, we know full well that God has already done everything for us to secure our salvation. But what if this truth was not set in stone? If achieving eternal life was based even in the slightest on our adherence to the law, the Bible spells out a very terrifying message: All persons have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. If this is true, how then could we possibly do anything to make ourselves pure in God’s eyes?

This is the question that tormented Martin Luther’s each and every waking moment during the years before he nailed up his famous 95 Theses. Luther had been raised under the law-driven doctrine of the medieval Roman Church, and his spiritual state fully exemplified the dangers of excluding the gospel in one’s worship life. He was constantly surrounded by church officials ordering him to repent of his sins, and tearful confessions were a daily ordeal. Every time Luther committed even the “smallest” of sins, he would be overcome with grief and shame and go running to a priest to beg for assurance of forgiveness. Often, he would even physically punish himself or go days without eating, in order to show penance for what he had done, in hopes that God would have mercy on his soul. The worst part of it all–the pain, the torment, and the utter humiliation–was that he never knew if the measures he was taking were enough.

Most of us can’t even imagine living in a state of constant fear that our repentance isn’t enough. While many may find it next to impossible to relate to Martin Luther, I have witnessed firsthand how powerful of a prison penance can be–and how the gospel changes everything!

When I was very little, I had severe Tourettes and OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). Today it has toned down quite a bit, and I have learned to cope with it and accept it as part of who I am. It is just one of the many blessings God has given me to make me unique. But I did not always see it this way. In fact, it used to make my life a bit miserable. Part of having OCD and Tourettes is that your mind is miswired to fixate itself on things that bother your conscience. For instance, if you are brought up taught that “stupid” (for a mild example) is a bad word, you will be more inclined to have that word inadvertently cross your mind. You can imagine as a Christian how fixated you could become on the bad sins you had committed! I used to go through periods of time where I was so overcome by sins that I could not get out of my head that I was literally praying nonstop throughout the entire day. (And I assure you, this is, sadly, no exaggeration!) Some nights I would stay up hours on end, asking God why I was so sinful and begging that he would forgive me for all the terrible things I had committed that day. I knew that Jesus had saved me … but I had also been taught that we should repent of all of our sins, and I was completely overwhelmed! Finally, one night, I broke down in front of my parents. That is when God swooped in with his life-saving gospel!

Looking back on it, I realize now how foolish it was for me to doubt God’s forgiveness and mercy. For a long time I wondered how God could possibly use that chapter of my life for my good–aside from me having A LOT of one-on-one time with him in the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t until recently that I realized why he allowed me to carry that cross for so long. Thanks to my experiences, I can relate to those who are burdened down by sin, and I can offer them the reassurance that God’s love covers over even a multitude of sins. I understand better than ever how the law, without gospel, is meaningless! Without gospel, we are slaves to sin and penance. We cannot earn our way into Gods arms, nor can we atone for the good we have failed to do. The gospel is truly the life-giving message that people so desperately need to hear! That is why Luther’s work and the Reformation are so vital to Lutherans today. God help us never to lose sight of the gospel, so that in confident faith we may proudly proclaim, “That no one is justified by the law before God is evident; for, the righteous person shall live by faith” (Galatians 3:11).

The law is a prison … but the gospel is the power of God for salvation, to everyone who believes!

Dec

2019

God hears your prayers — even those that aren’t expressed in words

Originally published on The Electric Gospel on March 31, 2016

Sometimes in classes I taught, a little assignment that expects a brief response (such as an online discussion) yielded deep and thoughtful responses from some persons. The thoughts shared below happened like that. Lizzie Kogler offered some heartfelt musings about the prayers of our hearts.

Thoughts concerning prayer

by Lizzie Kogler

Think back to a time when everything in your life seemed to be going completely wrong. You lay awake at night thinking about how full your plate was, but how empty your stomach was, or about how many duties and obligations you had, but how little energy you had. When there was nowhere left to turn, did you close your eyes and pray?

For me, this is the kind of pray-er I have become. I have become someone who keeps trudging through the muddy streets of life, gradually slowing down, until I fall face-first into the stinky goo. Then and only then are my prayers passionate, a pleading cry for help.

Do you ever fall into this same trap of holding out until prayer is your last resort? It’s not like I think that God isn’t powerful enough or present enough to save me. It is more my sinful nature of wanting to think that I by myself am enough to get through life. And then, time and time again, I fall down on my knees looking upwards toward the cross, still stained in red.

So this leads me to a question concerning prayer.

In the Large Catechism, Martin Luther wrote, “Let people learn to value prayer as something great and precious and to make a proper distinction between babbling and praying for something.” I don’t disagree with Luther … but I also wonder. Are there ever times that our babbling (or what might seem like babbling) indeed is prayer?

Certainly there is a difference between mere babbling and true prayer. According to the Oxford Dictionary of English, “Babbling is talking rapidly and continuously in a foolish, excited, or incomprehensible way” … whereas prayer was defined by Jesus this way: “When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others … But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen … And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him” (Matthew 6:5-8).

Are there times where we are foolish, excited, or hard to understand? Absolutely, we are human. But this does not mean that we should not come to the Lord in prayer, for fear of the sin of babbling. Jesus encourages us to cast all our anxieties on him, because he cares for us (cf. 1 Peter 5:7). This means coming to Jesus with an open heart, ready to hear his forgiveness, peace, and comfort.

I will admit that sometimes I am afraid to pray. I am not worried about whether God is going to give me or not give me what I am asking for. I do not feel nervous about his plan for my life. It is more that I feel guilty for not praying as much as I could or should. But then I remind myself that God is gracious and hears my prayers. He hears your prayers too – even those that aren’t fully or perfectly formed into clear words.

Passages for prayerful encouragement:

In my distress I called to the Lord; I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears.
Psalm 18:6

But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.
James 1:6

Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.
Hebrews 4:16

The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.
Romans 8:26

The law condemns. The gospel saves.

We Serve the One who Served Us

The Quiet Power of God’s Presence

Reformation Day remembrance

Hearts Full of Faith Beat Boldly in Christ

Me, a Saint?

Brought to life by the gospel

Thoughts concerning prayer

Subscribe