"Jesus' Curse Is Our Redemption" (Sermon on Galatians 3:10-13) | April 18, 2025

Sermon Text: Galatians 3:10-13
Date: April 18, 2025
Event: Good Friday, Year C

Galatians 3:10-13 (EHV)

In fact, those who rely on the works of the law are under a curse. For it is written, “Cursed is everyone who does not continue to do everything written in the book of the law.” 11Clearly no one is declared righteous before God by the law, because “The righteous will live by faith.” 12The law does not say “by faith.” Instead it says, “The one who does these things will live by them.”

13Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us. As it is written, “Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree.”

Jesus’ Curse Is Our Redemption

Tonight’s service is difficult. It is challenging to try to find a balanced tone within ourselves. We are here to observe something tremendously sad—yet from which all of our hope and joy flow. So, how do we hold both the sadness of Jesus’ death and the comfort that this death paid for our sins? How do we balance the sadness that Jesus suffered hell on the cross and the blessing that he did so for us, so we will never face it? We can try to finesse it, but the reality is there is no “correct” tone for tonight. Sadness and joy sit beside each other tonight as the Son of God gives up his life.

But the best way to honor what is happening here is to understand it, appreciate it, and even proclaim it. In many ways, the apostle Paul is doing that in our Second Reading for this evening. He sets Jesus’ curse alongside our redemption and allows both to exist. He invites his readers to sit with that tension; so shall we.

Understanding the context in which Paul is writing will help us understand his points. His letter to the Galatian Christians is probably one of (if not the) earliest of his letters recorded in the Scriptures. He’s writing to address a severe problem plaguing the churches in this region of modern-day Turkey.

These are the early days for the fledgling Christian church, maybe as few as 15-20 years after Jesus completed his work. The gospel is beginning to go out into the world as Jesus said it would. But, something else is accompanying it, something that is always a danger alongside God’s true teaching, which Jesus warned about: distorting error.

This early error was especially dire. People were coming to these brand-new Christian churches and wrapping their false teachings in a cloak of truth. It would essentially go something like this: “Yes, Jesus’ work for you is necessary. It is so important! But in order to benefit from that work, you need to keep the law God gave to Moses.” This group became almost obsessed with God’s command to circumcise males in the believer’s family, so they were often referred to as “the circumcision group.”

You can spot the problem with this teaching immediately, especially if you were here last night for our Maundy Thursday service. Last night, we drew comparisons between the old and new covenants. The old covenant referred to God's two-way agreement with Israel that he would bless them IF they kept his laws. And we know how that went… not well.

If we are unable to keep the law, what does tying Jesus’ forgiveness to obedience to that law do? It undermines the entire gospel. It sets up a false, misleading dream that God gave his law so that we could redeem ourselves from our sins and rescue ourselves from the punishment we deserve. The problem is that the law must be obeyed perfectly if it is going to be a blessing for us. And we haven’t done that. Our failure to be perfect is the reason we are here tonight; it’s also the reason Jesus is here.

Paul minces no words when addressing this false teaching that places obedience as a prerequisite for forgiveness. Do you think that you will be blessed by being circumcised or keeping any of the other laws that God commanded through Moses? Well, those who rely on the works of the law are under a curse. For it is written, “Cursed is everyone who does not continue to do everything written in the book of the law.” About a year or two before Paul wrote this letter to the Galatians, James wrote in his New Testament letter, “Whoever keeps the whole law but stumbles in one point has become guilty of breaking all of it” (James 2:10). Nothing but flawless obedience to the law brings blessing. Hence, anyone relying on obedience to the law to earn good things from God accomplishes the opposite; that person is under a curse rather than blessed.

This helps to explain what was happening that dark, first Good Friday afternoon. Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us. As it is written, “Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree.” Jesus is taking the curse of the law into and on himself. This is such a sad scene, not because of Judas’ betrayal, the Sanhedrin’s unbelief, Pilate’s spinelessness, or even the cruelty of those who enjoyed looking at this suffering. No, this is such a sad scene because the only one who never deserved to be cursed by God is cursed by the law he had perfectly kept.

And why is this happening? We heard it in Isaiah earlier in our service, “It was the LORD’s will to crush him and allow him to suffer” (Isaiah 53:10). Notably, Isaiah is clear that this was the all-capital-letters LORD’s will to crush him. This is not the action of God’s anger or justice. The emphasis in this action to crush the Messiah and allow him to suffer comes from God’s love, mercy, and compassion. How? Because the LORD who willed this is the one nailed to that cross. There is no mistake here, no wrongful condemnation, no hiccup in God’s plan—this is and always was the plan. Elsewhere, Paul describes this scene this way: God made him, who did not know sin, to become sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him (1 Corinthians 5:21).

My brothers and sisters, what is this wondrous love? How can we even put this into words? It’s difficult, which is probably why even God uses so much variety in describing this rescue mission that is happening before us. That word that Paul uses, redeem, has this glorious picture of buying someone or something to put in back in its rightful place. This redemption is a ransom. The price is the blood—the very life—of the Son of God. Priceless, yet freely given.

We may leave here tonight feeling predominantly sad at what Jesus had to pay to rescue us. We may leave here tonight feeling predominantly grateful for our Savior's saving love and action. But let none of us leave here tonight feeling guilty over what our sins cost Jesus. Is it gruesome and horrific? Yes. Is it spiritual suffering the likes of which we cannot even process and will never see ourselves? Yes. But remember that you did not force Jesus’ hand. He didn’t have to do this; he chose to do this. So great is his love for you that he sought to rescue you from the depths of your sins, from the blackness of hell’s pit, to restore you and me as his brothers and sisters, children of our heavenly Father, the way we were originally created at the beginning. Toward the end of our service tonight, the choir will use the hymn writer’s words to summarize this well: See, from his head, his hands, his feet, sorrow, and love flow mingled down. Did e’er such love and sorrow meet or thorns compose so rich a crown? (Christian Worship #407, s. 3).

May our pride or boasting, our despair or terror, disappear at the cross. May we see Jesus as the solution to our eternal problem, who did so willingly and lovingly.  May we find in his love the strength and motivation to love others as we’ve been loved. May thankfulness motivate our obedience to him, not earning something from God but rejoicing in what we have already received. You live by faith, that God-given trust that Jesus has rescued you from sin. May that faith carry you through this dark night until the dawning of that glorious, victorious day that is just over the horizon. Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria

Sermon prepared for Gloria Dei Lutheran Church (WELS), Belmont, CA (www.gdluth.org) by Pastor Timothy Shrimpton. All rights reserved. Contact pastor@gdluth.org for usage information.

"What Kind of Savior Do You Want?" (Sermon on Luke 19:28-40) | April 13, 2025

Sermon Text: Luke 19:28-40
Date: April 13, 2025
Event: Palm Sunday, Year C

Luke 19:28-40 (EHV)

After Jesus had said these things, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. 29As he came near to Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples ahead, 30saying, “Go to the village ahead of you. When you enter it, you will find a colt tied, on which no one has ever sat. Untie it and bring it here. 31And if anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ you will say this: ‘The Lord needs it.’”

32Those who were sent ahead went and found things just as he had told them. 33As they were untying the colt, its owners said to them, “Why are you untying the colt?”

34They said, “The Lord needs it.”

35Then they brought the colt to Jesus. They threw their robes on the colt and set Jesus on it. 36As he went along, people spread their robes on the road. 37As he was approaching the slope of the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began to praise God joyfully, with a loud voice, for all the miracles they had seen, 38saying, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”

39Some of the Pharisees from the crowd said to him, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!”

40He replied, “I tell you, if these people would be silent, the stones would cry out.”

What Kind of Savior Do You Want?

Have you been to a casual dining or fast food restaurant that has one of those CocaCola Freestyle soda machines? They’re these big machines with a huge touch screen on them, and if you want to drink soda, you have what feels like near-infinite options. But it allows mixing and matching even more than a traditional soda fountain because, in addition to the base sodas, you can add several different syrups flavors to your drink. So, if you’re not content with normal Diet Coke you can, with the press of a button, make it Orange Vanilla Diet Coke. And if you’re feeling brave, perhaps you add a splash of Dr. Pepper.

The Freestyle machines embody our desire for choices and options. Mix and match to find the right blend for you. I can express my individual preferences, and if they’re different from yours, that’s probably okay because you can just tap different buttons and fill your cup with something different.

Clearly, there’s no problem in having preferences on drinks, or food, or clothes, or whatever. But sometimes it is tempting to take that desire for individualism and apply that to other areas of our lives. Do I need to listen to my parents? Well, not if they’re telling me to do something I don’t want to or that I can’t do something I do want to do. Do I have to pay my taxes? Well, not if I don’t think the money is being used appropriately or I think the rates are wrong for me or others.

Of course, more than applying that to a drink with your lunch, applying this individualistic template to those areas of life will end in some pretty rough consequences at home and even with the government. But what about our faith? You have nearly infinite opinions regarding spiritual thought, and if you can’t find one that fits your personal preferences, you can chart your own course and follow that path! But is that the way spiritual needs and solutions work? Can you just walk up to the Freestyle machine of spirituality and press the right buttons, and dispense your spiritual “truth”? And if you did that, what would buttons would you push? What would be the mechanics of your faith system? What kind of Savior do you want—if any?

We’ve wrestled with this question throughout Jesus’ ministry, or at least puzzled over it with the crowds. What were they looking for in a Savior? Was it a bread king who could meet their day-to-day hunger? Was it a miracle worker who could heal their diseases? Or were all of those things building up to something more and bigger?

We do not have insight into the crowds’ thoughts on Palm Sunday, but here’s what we can say. When they call Jesus “the King who comes in the name of the Lord!” they are clearly identifying Jesus as the promised Messiah. Whether we think of the famous prophecy about Palm Sunday itself from Zecharaiah 9 where God promised that the king would come in riding on a donkey—on a foal of a donkey—or we think of Jesus as David’s Son, the King who would reign forever, there’s a lot in that title of “King.”

But what kind of Savior did they want? A King riding in on a donkey, despite the Zechariah prophecy, wouldn’t have been imposing. Typically, leaders would ride donkeys when they came in peace. Riding a warhorse means I’ve come to conquer; riding a donkey means I’ve come to make a deal or settle things without war.  But might there have been some confusion among the crowd, even amid their joy? We know that it was a long-held belief that the Messiah would be a political savior to restore the earthly glory to the nation of Israel. So, in this immediate context, it seems likely that many of the people cheering Jesus on would be doing so, assuming he would be using his power to get rid of the Romans and restore genuine autonomy to the nation. But, does someone who has come to do that make an entrance on an untrained, young donkey?a

The Pharisees were looking for something entirely different out of Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!” If we’re going to put the best construction on this demand, they recognized that the crowd was calling Jesus the Messiah, and as far as they knew and believed, that was not true. And if it wasn’t true, Jesus would know how inappropriate that was and should want to stop the blasphemy in its tracks.

If we’re going to take a slightly more negative view of what drove the Pharisees’ demand, it would be that they could see this giant crowd forming and cheering just outside of Jerusalem and knew what that would look like to Pontius Pilate and the other Roman rulers in the area. This looked like a mob scene, the beginning of a riot. And if any whispers of someone’s hopes that Jesus would actually depose the Romans got to Pilate’s ears, it looked and sounded like something much worse—a coup. The reaction from Rome to such insolence would be quick and brutal, which is exactly what the Pharisees would have been trying to avoid for themselves and the people at large.

So the crowds might be looking for their bread king to feed the five thousand once again; they might be looking to have a Roman-free existence from here on out. The Pharisees might have been looking to defend God’s name and promises or to preserve their own hides.

What are you looking for from Jesus? What do you want him to be for you or do for you? Do you want him to patch up your strained friendships or family relationships? Do you want him to fix your money concerns or bring complete healing to that chronic physical ailment? Do you want him to bring peace among nations or within your community?

It is not out of the question that God might provide any or even all of those things. None of those requests would be out of place in our prayers—that God’s will be done in those matters. But if those types of hopes and dreams are the full extent of what we’re looking for from Jesus, if that’s the kind of Savior we want, we’re thinking way too short-sightedly. It’s so easy to lower our vision from God’s perspective to our own day-to-day perspective. So, this morning, our prayer is that God lift up our eyes beyond what is right in front of us and see what is for our ultimate good.

The kind of Savior you and I might want at any given moment ultimately doesn’t matter. What truly matters is that Jesus understood the kind of Savior we needed and fulfilled those needs precisely. There might be only one person amid this Palm Sunday confusion who knows what is happening here, but there is at least one: Jesus. He immediately demonstrates this in our Gospel by sending two disciples to fetch the donkey. He knew exactly where it would be, what attributes it possessed, what question they would be asked, and what answer to give. They found things just as he had told them.

So Jesus is going forward, not being swept up in the pageantry of this day nor being swayed by popular opinion of what he shoulddo; rather, he’s going forward on the mission that his Father placed before him. To put it bluntly, as we just sang in our hymn of the day, he’s “rid[ing] on to die” (Christian Worship 411, s. 5). Because no immediate term glory, no evident power awaits him at the end of this road. Only the cross, but only the cross for you.

This is where the conflict begins between what we can see and what is actually happening. Jesus rides in on a donkey; he rides in, looking all the part to be coming in peace. And as far as the people in Jerusalem are concerned—even the Romans!—that is true. But the most vicious battle waits for him at Golgatha, a battle for your soul and mine. There, he will face the full brunt of hell; there, he will have a final showdown with Satan. But as we said back in the Epiphany season, it’s not as if Satan and Jesus are more or less evenly matched; it’s not even close. This battle was over before it even started. Jesus will come out the other side the victor, and you and I will be conquerors along with him.

Our misguided notions about what Jesus should do for us will be crucified on that cross as well. Those, as well as all our other sins, will be forgiven in his blood shed, in his life given up for our justification.

It is fascinating to compare the words of the crowd to other words earlier in Luke’s Gospel that we are very familiar with. Luke records that among the shouts of praise from that Palm Sunday throng was this acclimation: “Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” If we jump back many chapters in Luke’s Gospel, back to chapter 2, we hear words that ring with the same tones: There were in the same country shepherds staying out in the fields, keeping watch over their flock at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified! … Suddenly, there was with the angel a multitude from the heavenly army, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward mankind.” (Luke 2:8-9, 13-14). The Christmas angels announced the purpose of Jesus’ arrival to the shepherds, and here, knowingly or not, the crowds reinforce that purpose.

While, yes, Jesus is preparing for a battle at the cross, it is a battle that will lead to peace. This will not solve the Jewish people’s issues with the Roman empire. It won’t end wars between nations, make families get along, or necessarily repair friendships. But it will bring a much more critical peace—an eternal peace between God and sinful mankind.

What kind of Savior do you want? What kind of Savior do I want? What does it matter? What we have is what we need: our gentle King rides into Jerusalem to save us from our sins, to save us from hell. By this time next week, we will see our confidence in Jesus proven right and displayed in glory before us. Getting there will be a rough road, but God will keep his promises. In the days ahead, let’s share this message, invite people to hear it, and praise God for his goodness to us. If we don’t, the stones would cry out, but given that we appreciate all Jesus has done for us, I know that will not be necessary.

What kind of Savior do you want? The one you have: Jesus, who rides on to bear your sins in his body and will bring you to the heavenly home he has prepared for you. Thanks be to God! Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria

Sermon prepared for Gloria Dei Lutheran Church (WELS), Belmont, CA (www.gdluth.org) by Pastor Timothy Shrimpton. All rights reserved. Contact pastor@gdluth.org for usage information.

"Look at What God Is Doing!" (Sermon on Isaiah 43:16-21) | April 6, 2025

Sermon Text: Isaiah 43:16-21
Date: April 6, 2025
Event: The Fifth Sunday in Lent, Year C

Isaiah 43:16-21 (EHV)
This is what the LORD says,
who makes a road through the sea
and a path through mighty waters,
17who brings out the chariot and the horses,
the army and the strong warrior.
They will all lie down together.
They will not get up.
They are extinguished.
Like a wick they go out.
18Do not remember the former things.
Do not keep thinking about ancient things.
19Watch, I am about to do a new thing.
Now it will spring up. Don’t you know about it?
Indeed I will make a road in the wilderness.
In the wasteland I will make rivers.
20The wild animals, the jackals and ostriches, will honor me,
because I am providing water in the wilderness,
rivers in a parched wasteland,
to provide water for my chosen people to drink.
21This people that I formed for myself will declare my praise.

Look at What God Is Doing!

“Hey, watch this!” Depending on who is saying those words, you might have different expectations of what you’ll see. If it’s a very young child, it might be some new-and-a-big-deal-to-them type of physical maneuver or something new they learned that aligns with their growth and development. If someone has been studying sleight-of-hand illusions, you might see something that seems impossible at first glance. And if it’s a layman working on the plumbing at the kitchen sink, perhaps you’ll see a great success or a wild failure as the water gets turned on. But in any case, you want to watch and see, either to encourage, be amazed, or know if you need to get the mop.

But what about when God says to you, “Hey, watch this!”? Depending on what you know about him or how you sense your relationship's health with him, you might be filled with excitement or dread. But certainly, if God is saying that we should look and watch, then we do well to look and watch. And that is exactly what God says to us today in our reading from Isaiah. He calls on us to bear witness to what he is doing because it is important—eternally important for us and for all people.

Our brief reading begins with all sorts of allusions to the exodus when God rescued his people from their slavery in Egypt. The exodus took place around 700 years before Isaiah’s ministry—roughly three times the length of the United States’ existence. So this happened a long time before this, but in Isaiah’s day, it ranked as the high water mark of God’s saving work. God is described as a God who saves with this language: who makes a road through the sea and a path through mighty waters, who brings out the chariot and the horses, the army and the strong warrior. They will all lie down together. They will not get up. They are extinguished. Like a wick they go out. This is a direct reference to the parting of the Red Sea, which enabled the Israelites to cross over the seabed on dry ground, and then the crash of the waters on the Egyptian army as they tried to pursue God’s people, to their destruction.

In other words, “Do you want to know who God is? Look at the exodus!” Notably, the all-capital-letters-LORD, God’s name of covenant love, is used here. He promised that he would rescue his people from their slavery, and through many miracles, plagues, and even the naturally-impossible parting of a large body of water, God did just that.

What does God say about this event by which glorified him as the saving God? He says, “Forget all of that because it’s going to seem like nothing compared to what I’m going to do. Do not remember the former things. Do not keep thinking about ancient things. Watch, I am about to do a new thing. Now it will spring up. Don’t you know about it?” As we said, when God says, “Hey, watch this!” we do well to pay attention! God is calling to us to look because, to paraphrase, “Ya’ ain’t seen nothing yet.”

So, what does God want us to see? “Indeed I will make a road in the wilderness. In the wasteland I will make rivers. The wild animals, the jackals and ostriches, will honor me, because I am providing water in the wilderness, rivers in a parched wasteland, to provide water for my chosen people to drink.” While roads running through barren lands and rivers appearing in the desert are interesting—useful, even—what is it about this work that makes it superior to the miraculous exodus? What about this could be considered “new,” from the God who created the world—desert and river alike—from nothing? Well, if he were talking about actual rivers in actual deserts, then, nothing. But this is something more, something bigger, something new.

God aims to bring relief and help to those in desperate need. He’s getting ready to bring life to something dead, like springs of water would be in the middle of a barren wasteland. He’s getting ready to do this new thing to save people from eternal death with eternal life.

This is not new because it was a secret no one had ever heard. Quite the contrary. God had been clear from the beginning that a champion was coming to rescue people from their sins. Elsewhere in his book, God gives remarkably clear prophecies and promises about this Savior through Isaiah. No, but it’s new because it’s something that had never been done before and would never happen again.

The life-giving water of forgiveness would be given to God’s people to drink, and there would be enough for every person who ever lived to satisfy their spiritual thirst. This the work that Jesus will embark on, to make the one-time, one-and-done payment for sins. This new thing would be God himself taking on our humanity, living among us, allowing himself to be sacrificed for us, and in doing so, paying for every misdeed and sin you and I have ever committed.

The reminder of the exodus ahead of the announcement of this imminent new thing is very helpful. If there was ever a time that it seemed like God’s promises couldn’t happen as he said they would, it would be the exodus. As his people left Egypt, the pharaoh had a change of heart and wanted his slaves back. He pursued the people with his army—armed warriors against a nation of just-released slaves. They had no weapons or defense force to speak of; they had no combat training. This group of two million people could probably have done very little to make a stand against the Egyptian military.

Add to that the location where the army caught up with the Israelites, at the shore of the Red Sea. They were hemmed in on all sides—water to one, the enemy army to the other. Rock, hard place. And so, what does God do? Whatever is necessary to keep his promises. The waters of the Sea part, the pillar of fire and cloud stands between his people and the Egyptians, and they cross over to safety and freedom, unscathed.

Nothing stands in God’s way when he’s made a promise. But I wonder how often we feel or think something is getting in God’s way regarding forgiveness. Perhaps the guilt we feel over sin—that conscience that won’t stop crying out about the condemnation it expects to face—makes it seem like this sin can never be dealt with, that we are doomed to perish in hell because we know that it is the just punishment for our sins.

Or maybe something else gets in the way; maybe we are in the way. Maybe our own lack of appreciation for what God has promised and done, our distractions and lack of focus on these immeasurably important eternal matters, or our general apathy with God’s work for us lead us to wander away from God with little regard for what that will mean for us eternally.

My dear brothers and sisters, look at what God is doing! Don’t let this pass you by, uncaring. Don’t look at it as if it is ineffectual to save you. This new thing in Jesus is God’s full and free forgiveness for you! You were parched, dying of thirst under the brutal sun and scorching winds of your sin, destined to eternal death in hell. And here God comes with this new thing, with himself in human flesh, to take your place. He gives you to drink from the cool waters of his love and his forgiveness. And this drink does not fail to revive. Nothing will prevent God’s mission to save, not Pharaoh and his army, not the depths of the Red Sea, not the multitude and severity of your sin or mine. Here, in this new thing, they are gone. Here, we have life instead of death, now and for eternity.

Over these next few weeks, in our worship on Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings, and especially during the run of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter, we’ll see this new thing spring up. God promised the sacrifice of Jesus, and from it comes forgiveness that cannot and will not fail. The new thing that God promised is done. Your sins are forgiven. You have eternal life and perfect peace with your God as your certain possession.

In the days ahead, let us look and watch together as this new thing unfurls God’s love for us in Gethsemane, in the sham trials, at the cross, and even at his burial site. Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria

Sermon prepared for Gloria Dei Lutheran Church (WELS), Belmont, CA (www.gdluth.org) by Pastor Timothy Shrimpton. All rights reserved. Contact pastor@gdluth.org for usage information.

"What Condemnation?" (Sermon on Romans 8:1-10) | March 30, 2025

Sermon Text: Romans 8:1-10
Date: March 30, 2025
Event: The Fourth Sunday in Lent, Year C

Romans 8:1-10 (EHV)

So then, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. 2For in Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death. 3Indeed, what the law was unable to do, because it was weakened by the flesh, God did, when he sent his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to deal with sin. God condemned sin in his flesh, 4so that the righteous decree of the law would be fully satisfied in us who are not walking according to the flesh, but according to the spirit.

5To be sure, those who are in harmony with the sinful flesh think about things the way the sinful flesh does, and those in harmony with the spirit think about things the way the spirit does. 6Now, the way the sinful flesh thinks results in death, but the way the spirit thinks results in life and peace. 7For the mind-set of the sinful flesh is hostile to God, since it does not submit to God’s law, and in fact, it cannot. 8Those who are in the sinful flesh cannot please God.

9But you are not in the sinful flesh but in the spirit, if indeed God’s Spirit lives in you. And if someone does not have the Spirit of Christ, that person does not belong to Christ. 10But if Christ is in you, your body is dead because of sin, but your spirit is alive because of righteousness.

What Condemnation?

You might hear a call for public condemnation in many places. Perhaps some public official does something that is deemed inappropriate, and so calls come from the public for others in office to denounce and condemn his actions. Perhaps a CEO’s misconduct will lead to condemnation from his company’s board. Perhaps a grassroots campaign will urge you to call your representatives in Sacramento or Washington to condemn some bill moving through the legislature. We’re familiar with condemnation, and even public condemnation, of misconduct or ideas that seem potentially dangerous, unwise, or misguided.

Condemning something means you’re pronouncing it useless because it’s rotten to the core. A house may be condemned if it is deemed unsafe for people to live in it. Condemnation is a term well-used to speak of God’s reaction to sin. He not only condemns it—speaks against it—but condemns it in the sense of punishing the person who committed the sin. In the way that the public official or CEO might lose their position because of condemned misconduct, so too the sinner is condemned along with his actions. Hell stands as the just condemnation for sin.

However, the parable Jesus told in the Gospel spoke of a different reaction to sin. How did the father in the parable treat both of his sons—the younger one who had wasted his father’s possessions and the older one who self-righteously looked down on his brother? The father treated them both with patience, love, and forgiveness.

Last week we heard the author of Psalm 85 assert so clearly that he knew who God is, what his nature is. He is not the God who remains angry forever or wants to boil people in his wrath. No, God is the one who is merciful and will restore his people. Even in their sin, God is not willing to give them up to what they deserve. Instead, he promised to and then did deal with sin in Jesus.

If you’ve been coming to our Bible class on Sunday mornings as we work our way through the book of Romans, you might remember the flow of thought that Paul has leading into the famous words of chapter 8, a portion of which is our Second Reading this morning. Early in the letter, Paul had condemned all people as guilty of sin. Whether they were Jewish or Gentile, whether they grew up around God’s Word or were completely ignorant of it, everyone is guilty of breaking God’s law and thus guilty of eternal condemnation. But, as Paul winds through chapters 3 and 4, he shows that we are saved by God’s goodness, that his righteousness is given to us not because of the things we’ve done but in spite of the things we’ve done. Faith clings to that forgiveness and receives it so that you and I are saved from hellfire in the same way that Abraham was so many years ago: faith—trust—in what God promised.

Then, Paul moves into our reaction to God’s forgiving love. Would it be right to treat God’s mercy with contempt? Would it be right to think, “Well, if God is going to forgive every sin, I should commit as many sins as possible!”? No! Rather, we want to serve God in thanksgiving for what he’s done. But in the latter part of Chapter 7, Paul takes us deeply into his own heart and mind. He is very vulnerable when he confides to the Romans, “I do not understand what I am doing, because I do not keep doing what I want. Instead, I do what I hate. … The desire to do good is present with me, but I am not able to carry it out. So I fail to do the good I want to do. Instead, the evil I do not want to do, that is what I keep doing” (Romans 7:15, 18-19). This is the plight of every believer—to have the desire to do good to thank God, yet never be able to carry it out to the level that we want and know that we should. Part of Paul’s closing to chapter 7 sums it up well: “What a miserable wretch I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:24-25a).

You and I are both sinners and saints at the same time. The greatest of contradictions dwells deep, deep within us. It is so fundamental to who we are that we might not even be able to imagine a time without this conflict. Since God first put faith in our hearts, a spiritual battle has been raging inside us between our inherited sinful flesh and the new self that God has created in us.

And that battle is exhausting. Wouldn’t it be great to not have to fight it anymore? Obviously, for some, they don’t. They just follow their own heart, their wills, into whatever tickles their fancy. Maybe that’s helping others, maybe that’s completely self-serving, but it’s all done because that person thinks it’s the right thing for them. That alone is their rule and guide.

You and I know that feeling all too well. Even though we recognize the dangers in this line of thinking, we can be so quick to capitulate to our sinful natures, to give into temptations to sin against God, not because it’s the right thing to do, but because it’s the easier thing to do, or the more pleasure-filled thing to do, or the more popular thing to do, or the thing that seems best in line with my self-proclaimed-righteous anger, or whatever other shoddy justification I might spew out for my sin. In those moments, we show our talent for living as Paul describes, “Those who are in harmony with the sinful flesh think about things the way the sinful flesh does.”

But this dabbling with or fully embracing sin only leads to one destination: condemnation. Even if we did everything right from here on out, it would be far too little, far too late. God’s expectations aren’t that we have, on balance, more good than bad; his expectation is perfection. And once we’ve broken his law even once, we’ve ruined the law’s ability ever to produce good things eternally. Eternal good is what the law was unable to do, because it was weakened by the flesh. Do you want to earn God’s favor through a life well lived? Sorry, that’s impossible.

But maybe “sorry” is the wrong word. Because, in many ways, it’s good to know that we can’t do that. If we could, where would our confidence be? How would we know that we had done enough? Could we peer into God’s ledger to compare the amount of black to the amount of red on our account to see where we stand? No, it would be a distress that would only lead to hopelessness.

Why did Paul end chapter 7 of Romans saying, “I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord”? Because Jesus is the solution to this. And Paul lays this out clear as day for the wrestling sinner-saint. You are not what you want to be, you are not what you should be, but Jesus was and is all that and more for you.

I want you to take a moment to see just how many gospel statements there are in the first four verses of our Second Reading. You could probably divide it up a few different ways, but six jump out to me: 1) “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” 2) “The Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.” 3) “What the law was unable to do… God did.” 4) “He sent his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to deal with sin.” 5) “God condemned sin in his flesh.” 6) “The righteous decree of the law [is] fully satisfied in us.”

What does Jesus’ sacrifice mean for you? It means being set free from that sinful nature. When God condemned sin in Jesus’ flesh, he suffered as if he was the sole sinner ever to live. The death of Jesus is not just a nice picture or a reminder of self-sacrificing love or something to emulate. No, the death of Jesus is nothing short of the condemnation of condemnation itself. Hell has no claim on us because Jesus satisfied that claim in his flesh for us.

But that does not mean that sin is absent from our lives while we’re here—far from it. We continue to be the saint—the holy one cleansed by God—who is also a sinner who continues to sin. Despite knowing Jesus’ forgiving love, we will still rebel against him and seek our own path contrary to his will. Our sinful flesh still lingers, despite being conquered at the cross, and with its last gasps, tries to bring us down with it. The sinful flesh’s entire perspective is one of hostility and hatred toward God, and it’s still rattling around inside of us.

But to be in harmony with the spirit, that is, in harmony with the faith in Jesus God has created in us, leads to a totally different perspective. The one in harmony with the spirit knows that she is forgiven in the blood of Jesus shed for her. Paul is speaking to you and me when he says, “But you are not in the sinful flesh but in the spirit, if indeed God’s Spirit lives in you.” The Holy Spirit does, indeed, live in you. He dwells within you by faith, always clinging to Jesus as Savior, as the only and perfect solution to the condemnation we deserve.

Your conscience, though, will yell and scream about your failures. You will feel guilt and sorrow over your sin. And, to a point, this is good and healthy. These are tools to ward off slipping into complete harmony with the sinful flesh. But they are only helpful to a point, and the point where they stop being useful is Jesus. Because the guilty conscience is terrified of the condemnation that is coming because of your sin—you can feel it in the pit of your stomach. But you, dear Christian, can speak peace to your conscience. Your reply can (and should) be, “Condemnation? What condemnation? There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. I am in Jesus, and Jesus is in me. I am washed clean of every stain.”

If Christ is in you, your body is dead because of sin, but your spirit is alive because of righteousness. You and I will face death—physical death—as a consequence of our sins. But never eternal death, never condemnation, because Jesus did that for us. Your spirit, your faith, is alive and well by the working of the Holy Spirit. Your spiritual self will be with God forever, even being reunited with your body raised anew, glorified on the Last Day.

All these shape our perspective in life. God has freed you from sin and its condemnation, allowing you to glorify him. On Wednesday evening, we saw some ways to do this—respecting God’s representatives in our lives, honoring other people’s physical well-being, and treating God’s design for marriage and sex with appropriate reverence. This is just a sample of what we will do. We, who are in harmony with the spirit and have God’s Spirit in us, will live lives of gratitude toward him. This includes how we respect his Word, prioritize his will, and treat our neighbors—our fellow human beings.

My brothers and sisters, your sins are forgiven. Yes, even that one. No condemnation is waiting for you because Jesus was condemned in your place—and came out the other side completely victorious. You will not meet a stern judge when this life ends, but rather your loving Father who will wrap you up in his arms and tell you, “Oh, my child, once dead, but now alive; once lost, but now found! It’s so good to have you home!” There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus! Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria

Sermon prepared for Gloria Dei Lutheran Church (WELS), Belmont, CA (www.gdluth.org) by Pastor Timothy Shrimpton. All rights reserved. Contact pastor@gdluth.org for usage information.

"Seek a Lenten Mindset!" (Sermon on Psalm 85) | March 23, 2025

Sermon Text: Psalm 85
Date: March 23, 2025
Event: The Third Sunday in Lent, Year C

Psalm 85 (EHV)

You showed favor to your land, O Lord.
You restored Jacob.
2You removed the guilt of your people.
You covered all their sin.                                                                Interlude
3You put away all your wrath.
You turned from your burning anger.
4Restore us, O God who saves us.
Put an end to your indignation with us.
5Will you be angry with us forever?
Will you extend your anger through all generations?
6Will you not turn and revive us,
so that your people may rejoice in you?
7Show us your mercy, O Lord,
and give us your salvation.
8I will hear what the true God, the Lord, will say.
He indeed speaks peace to his people, to his favored ones,
but do not let them turn to foolish ways.
9Surely his salvation is near for those who fear him,
so that glory may dwell in our land.
10Mercy and truth meet together.
Righteousness and peace kiss each other.
11Truth springs up from the earth,
and righteousness looks down from heaven.
12The Lord will indeed give good things,
and our land will yield its harvest.
13Righteousness walks in front of him.
It prepares the way for his footsteps.

Seek a Lenten Mindset!

For some tasks, you just have to be in the right headspace, and if you’re not, perhaps you need to try to manufacture it. For instance, if you know you need to work out or do some cleaning around the house, but perhaps you just don’t feel like it, sometimes putting on the right music, podcast, or TV show can flip that switch and get you going. Perhaps you have a project due for school in the coming weeks, but it feels so far away that you find yourself lacking the drive to get any work done on it. But perhaps setting smaller, more immediate deadlines can help light that fire under you to get started.

During the season of Lent, we might have to work especially hard to focus our minds on the season’s themes. Lent is very different from the Advent and Christmas seasons. There’s nothing in the world around us that can help “set the mood” for Lent. Just the opposite, actually. Everything around us directly contradicts that self-reflection centered on our sins and the need for God’s forgiveness. So, sometimes, having a model to follow, a path to trace, can help us get “in the zone,” as it were. Thankfully for us, in Psalm 85, we have exactly that.

The psalm writer begins this song to God with a bit of a history lesson. Now, it might seem a little bit weird to give God a history lesson on his own actions (did he forget?), but this really ties in with what we talked about on Wednesday evening with the Second Commandment. The best way to use God’s name is to share what he has done and to praise him for it. And that’s what the psalm writer is doing here: You showed favor to your land, O LORD. You restored Jacob. You removed the guilt of your people. You covered all their sin. You put away all your wrath. You turned from your burning anger.

Now, there is no indication of what events the psalm writer is talking about, and that’s probably intentional. Looking back through Bible history, we can see repeatedly where God followed this pattern of favor, restoration, and turning from fierce anger. We might think of Abraham and Sarah’s lack of trust in God’s promises for a child, so they turn to Hagar, Sarah’s servant, to be a “surrogate” of sorts in direct contradiction to God’s explicit promise that Abraham and Sarah would have a son (Genesis 16, 21). Perhaps, as the First Reading set the stage for the exodus of God’s people from Egypt, we think of the numerous times that God’s anger burned against the people for their idolatry and grumbling during those forty years wandering in the wilderness—beginning with that horrendous scene making and worshiping the golden calf (Exodus 32). David sinned against God in his lust and adultery with Bathsheba and in his deception and eventual murder of her husband, Uriah (2 Samuel 11-12). The prophet Elijah served at a time when the number of faithful people in the whole nation dipped to just 7,000; everyone else was serving the false gods of Baal and Asherah (1 Kings 18-19, esp. 19:18).

Whether the author of this psalm is a contemporary of David or lived a while after him, there was more than enough material in Israel’s history to draw on to see this pattern in God’s work. The people sin against God, and he is truly and justly angry over that sin, and yet he has compassion for his people and restores them.

Knowing this pattern helps us to understand the questions the psalm writer asks God, “Restore us, O God who saves us. Put an end to your indignation with us. Will you be angry with us forever? Will you extend your anger through all generations? Will you not turn and revive us, so that your people may rejoice in you?” He is not saying, “God, you have no right to be angry with us! This is unjust treatment!” In fact, just the opposite. When he asks God in v. 4 to “restore us” or “turn us back,” that’s a clear admission that they had gone astray. Put another way, you could say that the psalm writer is repentant for himself and on behalf of his people at large.

The psalm writer’s questions reveal that he knows and trusts God’s attitude, which drives God’s actions. The psalm writer had seen this before: God’s people sin, and he has mercy and compassion on them. So, his pleading with God is not a vain hope that he thinks has no chance of coming true; instead, it is a confident request that he knows God will follow through on: Show us your mercy, O LORD, and give us your salvation. He pleads with God to make his nature present in their lives.

The psalm writer had an appropriate Lenten mindset, which we want to emulate and capture for ourselves today and in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead. As we examine ourselves, we should see every reason God is upset with us, for his wrath to bubble over us. We have failed to be what he expected—demanded—we should be. But we, too, can look back over history and see the principal way God deals with people. Is it with anger and retribution or with mercy and forgiveness?

In fact, we have a far greater thing to point back to than the psalm writer did as we consider our sins. At the absolute latest, the psalm writer is writing hundreds of years before Jesus’ life. So he could look at God’s interactions with human beings and the promises that God had made. But those promises, certain as they were because God had made them, were still unresolved and unfulfilled.

But as the wheel of time rolled on, God sent his Son when that right moment came. Jesus made real what, up to that point, God has only promised and deferred. He came to redeem us who were wasting away in our sin under the law so that we might become the heirs of God rather than his enemies. When we plead with God to be merciful and forgive our sins, we can and should point to the cross. “Look, Lord! The punishment my sins deserved was doled out in the body of my Savior Jesus! There is nothing left for me to pay; he did it all for me!”

That repentant, Lenten mindset should be our approach to God for all our lives. Nothing we’ve done or will do can change what Jesus has accomplished. The steadfast God will not decide one day to no longer forgive you or to go back on his promises. No, if God’s promises are sure, then all the more is the fulfillment of those promises sure!

When his Spirit-given attitude is in us (one that is repentant, both sorry for our sins and trusting God’s mercy to forgive), we are the fig tree that Jesus pictured in our Gospel. We are bearing the fruit of faith because the fruit of faith is not trying to pretend we don’t have sins, nor is it assuming our sins create a hopeless situation for us. No, a fruit of faith is a confident resolve that he indeed speaks peace to his people, to his favored ones. And how does he speak that peace to us? Through the Word-made-flesh, Jesus, who paid for our sins with the sacrifice of his life for us. We are forgiven, no matter how grievous our failing or how deserving we think (and know!) we are of God’s wrath. Will God be angry with us forever? No! Because in Jesus, the punishment has been met, and his promises are fulfilled.

My brothers and sisters, we are truly God's favored ones. Not because of anything you have done or anything I have done, but because of what God has done for us. He will not be angry with us forever because he took out his just anger on Jesus. We do not have to worry about the effectiveness of his death because we know what awaits us just three days after his death at that garden tomb.

So, go forth in genuine acknowledgment and sorrow over your sin, but not hopelessly. Go forward trusting that all God has promised has been done and will be done. Your sins are forgiven. You are God’s child. And because of what he’s already done for you, he will bring you to his heavenly home. Thanks be to God! Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria

Sermon prepared for Gloria Dei Lutheran Church (WELS), Belmont, CA (www.gdluth.org) by Pastor Timothy Shrimpton. All rights reserved. Contact pastor@gdluth.org for usage information.

"Don't Shrink Away from the Moment" (Sermon on Philippians 3:17-4:1) | March 16, 2025

Sermon Text: Philippians 3:17–4:1
Date: March 16, 2025
Event: The Second Sunday in Lent, Year C

Philippians 3:17–4:1 (EHV)

Brothers, join together in imitating me and in paying attention to those who are walking according to the pattern we gave you. 18To be sure, many walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. I told you about them often, and now I am saying it while weeping. 19Their end is destruction, their god is their appetite, and their glory is in their shame. They are thinking only about earthly things. 20But our citizenship is in heaven. We are eagerly waiting for a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ. 21By the power that enables him to subject all things to himself, he will transform our humble bodies to be like his glorious body.

4:1So then, my brothers, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, in this way keep standing firm in the Lord, my dear friends.

Don’t Shrink Away from the Moment

The basketball player gets the ball. Down by one point, a single made shot wins the game. The defense has panicked, leaving him wide open. The final seconds are ticking down. He lines it up and gets ready to take the shot, but he hesitates. His teammates on the bench are screaming for him to shoot, but he doubts himself and shrinks away from the moment. He sees a teammate open and passes the ball to him, but what he didn’t see was the defender behind him. The defender swats away the pass, grabs the ball, and they lose the game. They would have won if he had just taken and made the wide-open shot, but his hesitation means they didn’t even get a chance to try. Game over.

Our walk through this life as Christians is of far greater importance than any basketball game that has ever been played, but the same kind of metrics and drama are present. We have a limited amount of time, we face pressures and opposition that sometimes are outside of us and sometimes are inside of us. When everything is on the line for us spiritually, do we shrink away from the moment, hesitating to or even refusing to live the life that God has called us to live? Or do we embrace the moment and seize the opportunities that God is putting in front of us?

In our Second Reading this morning, Paul is writing to beloved Christians in the city of Philippi. This brief letter is often called Paul’s letter of joy because, despite writing it while under house arrest, Paul is so positive and so thankful for these partners in gospel ministry that he just can’t keep it contained. Even in our brief snippet of the letter here, you get a sense of that joyful flavor. Consider how he addresses this congregation in the last verse of our reading: my brothers, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown… Is there any question about Paul’s feelings toward these fellow believers?

And what does he want for these beloved people? That they live their lives consistent with their faith in the crucified and risen Savior. And how would they learn what to do? In part, by looking at Paul and his coworkers in the ministry: Brothers, join together in imitating me and in paying attention to those who are walking according to the pattern we gave you. Now, to be clear, Paul is not implying that he, in some way, is the “gold standard” of living the Christian life; this is the same man who, when writing to pastor Timothy, was clear that he viewed himself as the worst sinner of all (see 1 Timothy 1:15-16). But he knows that while he was with the Philippians, he set a positive, if not perfect, example. And he urges them to follow suit.

You might have had the experience that heavy, big emotions in one area can lead to heavy, big emotions in another area at the same moment. And so it is the case here that in Paul’s overflowing joy for the Philippians, with the floodgates of his heart set wide open, he loses control of his emotions in another place. So, with tears in his eyes, tripping over his words and even interrupting himself, he puts forth the opposite side of the coin, the thing he doesn’t want in any way, shape, or form for the Philippians: To be sure, many walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. I told you about them often, and now I am saying it while weeping. Paul is absolutely destroyed that many are going about their lives as enemies of the cross of Christ.

What constitutes being an enemy of Christ’s cross? It’s not necessarily being vehemently opposed to the gospel message to the point of fighting against it. While that would certainly be included here, Paul’s description is not limited to that. How does he describe these enemies? Their end is destruction, their god is their appetite, and their glory is in their shame. They are thinking only about earthly things. It’s not only setting one’s heart and mind against Jesus but simply valuing other things over him.

There may be echoes here for you of our worship from Wednesday evening this past week where we focused on the First Commandment. In short, enemies of the cross of Christ are those who value things other than Christ’s cross, put other things ahead of God in their lives. Indeed, this would apply to unbelievers. But this is also a path believers can walk. Paul is determined to do everything he can not to let that happen to the Philippians and their faith.

But what would cause someone to take such a position? What would cause someone to value things other than God? What would that look like in practice? Well, looking at what Paul says here, we might be able to derive some thoughts:

Their god is their appetite. Now, a phrase like this perhaps conjures up a hedonistic view of someone who overindulges in every worldly thing. But it’s more basic than that. Perhaps this is someone who overindulges, but it might also be someone who is constantly on the hunt to make physical ends meet. They might rarely know where their next meal is coming from, so their growling, empty stomach becomes their god; they focus primarily on how to fill it next to preserve their life. This is an example of a lack of trust in God’s promise for daily bread. And even if it’s not too-much or too-little, prioritizing physical appetites over everything else in this life—especially God—is a tell-tale sign of an enemy of Christ’s cross.

Their glory is in their shame. So too, the enemies of Christ’s cross might find glory in shameful things. We might think of the person who brags about how they cheated someone in a transaction and came out financially ahead. Or perhaps someone who lives a sexually promiscuous lifestyle and boasts about his or her “conquests” in that realm. Perhaps it’s someone who brags about how much alcohol they consumed or how many drugs they took at a party over the weekend. It might be someone laughing about the filth that dominates their internet usage. All of these things should be shameful because they are sinful abuses of God’s blessings. But rather than approaching these things with repentance and sorrow, they boast in them, value them, identify with them, and might even find the meaning to their life in them. For the enemy of Christ’s cross, actions and attitudes that they ought to be ashamed of are worn as badges of honor.

They are thinking only about earthly things. Oh, and now this is where it starts to get really uncomfortable, because this statement seems wildly broad. I wonder, how many of us here today have thought, just since the sermon started, primarily about that work that needs to be done at home or that bill that needs to be paid, or that meal that will need to be prepared, or that bit of fun we’re planning for the afternoon, or anything along those lines rather than focusing on God’s Word. Are the earthly things dominating your thoughts, pushing spiritual matters and the joy of Jesus’ cross out?

Well-meaning Christians can become enemies of the cross of Christ. Consider for just a moment the suffering that you might undergo for being a Christian. What trouble has or might your faith cause among the members of your family? What about among your friends? Coworkers? Neighbors? Even strangers at the coffee shop or driving down the road? What is our gut reaction most of the time? We might not want to face the consequences of having a faith that is looked down on, so we hide it. We perhaps have a moment for confession, a time to make our faith known, but we sit quietly; we don’t take the shot.

In our nation, an ugly side-effect can come along with our secular principle of the freedom of religion—we, as Christians, long for “comfortable” or “consequence-free” Christianity. We want to be Christians, but not endure any hardship for that. We want to cherish our Savior while keeping him a secret or relatively unknown. We want the blessings of being the child of God while at the same time indulging in the infatuations that come with being a child of this world.

So this “enemies of the cross of Christ” category is not just those people who seem especially opposed to the gospel. Again, it’s anyone that is valuing these earthly things more than spiritual things. It might be true of the hedonistic unbeliever, but it is also just as likely that you and I here today are, in part, going through our lives like this. However, whether in ourselves or others, Paul gives us the proper response to these things. He isn’t furious about this; his tears say it all. We need to see the spiritual and eternal danger these attitudes pose for us.

Is it any wonder that Paul is weeping when he thinks of people living like this and that such a fall could even come upon his beloved Philippians? This path ends nowhere good. It only ends with the rejection of faith, the rejection of everything won at the cross of Christ, and ultimately, as eternal punishment in hell for our sins.

So, if our thoughts are misguided if they’re focused exclusively or even primarily on earthly, physical things, what is the solution? Paul directs us in the next verse: But our citizenship is in heaven. Our closing hymn this morning will underscore the fact that, really, we are foreigners here in this world. Our true homeland is heaven, the dwelling place of God. That’s easy to forget, though, because we don’t see a lot to remind us of that and redirect our thinking that way. It’s like we’re traveling abroad and find ourselves swept up in another nation’s civil war. If we can only focus on what is right in front of us, we might be terrified of the injury or even death that could face us. But if we remember our true citizenship and seek help from our homeland, ideally, we will be rescued from that conflict and returned home safely.

This citizenship idea would have been powerful in the city of Philippi. As a leading Roman city in the area, many of the residents would have been Roman citizens, aware of the privileges they held there and throughout the empire because of their citizenship. Likewise, the people who didn’t have citizenship in the empire would have been accurately aware of what they were missing.

But Paul stresses that our citizenship in heaven supersedes that of any earthly nation. And don’t miss a really small, yet really important detail. Paul says that our citizenship is in heaven, not that it will be in heaven. This is something that is true right here, right now. How? He goes on: We are eagerly waiting for a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ. We are looking forward to our Savior Jesus’ victorious return at the last day. But this stresses once again that this forgiveness, this citizenship, is something given, not earned. You don’t get this citizenship because you paid a lot of money, as you might in the Roman empire. You don’t get it because you jump through all sort of legal hoops and red tape, complete with lawyer’s fees, as you might in our nation. No, this citizenship is a gift of God’s love.

But this gift was not free. Like us, Jesus had a choice in front of him: easy path or difficult path. The easy path would have meant no cross, no suffering, no death, but that also would have meant eternal damnation for us all. Jesus was not willing to take the easy path, to save his own skin, and leave us to rot. So he took the difficult path, the path of the cross, the path that led him to taking our sins on himself and being punished for them at his cross so that we would be free from sin. This is why we are citizens of heaven, because of Jesus’ love for us that sacrificed himself to save us.

We hold dear, cherish, and value that citizenship-gift above everything else. We walk about our lives not as enemies of the cross of Christ but so thankful for all the eternal blessings we have now and will fully experience later for Jesus’ sake. We recognize that this path will be difficult; we will have crosses of our own, suffering of our own, placed on us as we go through this life. But let’s not take the shortcuts. Let’s not prioritize short-term comfort, which will forfeit eternal-term comfort and peace. Let us look forward to that final transformation that Jesus will bring about, when he brings us back to our homeland, to heaven, and purges even that sinful nature from us so that our bodies will be more akin to his glorious body than the decay we feel now.

Lord, give us the drive to walk the path in front of us, no matter how difficult or painful. Help us always be your positive representatives in the world, no matter the cost. Strengthen us as you forgive us for Jesus’ sake. Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria

Sermon prepared for Gloria Dei Lutheran Church (WELS), Belmont, CA (www.gdluth.org) by Pastor Timothy Shrimpton. All rights reserved. Contact pastor@gdluth.org for usage information.

"Jesus Conquers Satan for You" (Sermon on Luke 4:1-13) | March 9, 2025

Sermon Text: Luke 4:1–13
Date: March 9, 2025
Event: The First Sunday in Lent, Year C

Luke 4:1–13 (EHV)

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, 2where he was tempted by the Devil for forty days. He did not eat anything during those days. When they came to an end, he was hungry. 3The Devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become bread.”

4Jesus answered him, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God.’”

5The Devil led him up to a high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time. 6The Devil told him, “I will give you all this power and the glory of these kingdoms, because it has been entrusted to me, and I can give it to anyone I want. 7So, if you worship me, it will all be yours.”

8Jesus answered him, “It is written: ‘You shall worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’”

9The Devil led him to Jerusalem and had him stand on the pinnacle of the temple. “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down from here, 10because it is written:

He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you.

11And,

they will lift you up with their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.”

12Jesus answered him, “It says: ‘You shall not test the Lord your God.’”

13When the Devil had finished every temptation, he left him until an opportune time.

Jesus Conquers Satan for You

We all would like someone to stand up for us. If you’re being bullied at school, having a classmate swoop in and tell the bully off is a relief and empowering experience. Similarly, when you're in a meeting at work and receive stern criticism for your presentation, it’s easier to deal with it when others also praise your thoughts and ideas. Holding an unpopular opinion can feel alienating, but having even one other person who agrees with you is a great comfort and encouragement.

There’s an important concept that we need to keep in mind during this Lent season (and, truly, at all times), and that concept you might see in Latin: Christus pro nobis; in English: Christ for us.  This biblical principle is that Jesus’ work is ultimately vicarious, substitutionary. Much of what Jesus does is to take our place under the demands of God’s law, to face our enemies, and even to face the punishment for sin (of which he had none, and we have seemingly infinite). So when we see Jesus doing extraordinary things that we could never imagine ourselves doing, we want to keep this “Christ for us” principle in mind. Likely, the point of what Jesus is doing is not showing you how to conduct yourself, but rather doing what you could not do for you.

This “Christ for us” principle is front-and-center in our Gospel for this morning as we meet up with Jesus facing the temptations of the Devil. While we can learn a lot from Jesus’ approach to temptation, the ultimate takeaway we want to have is that he’s doing this for us. His perfection is credited to you, to me. He makes us righteous and perfect as we should have been all along.

As we join the events of our Gospel in progress, Jesus is leaving the Jordan River just after his baptism. This account is literally the first thing he did after the official start of his ministry. Jesus is just getting things rolling, and who is there to meet him and try to derail everything? Satan.

And as true man, Jesus is vulnerable. Not just because he had the potential to sin, which he did, but also because he was in a physically weak state. Jesus was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where he was tempted by the Devil for forty days. He did not eat anything during those days. When they came to an end, he was hungry. You likely know how you feel when you’re hungry. Perhaps you have a headache; perhaps you are quick-tempered; perhaps you make really bad decisions. So, if that’s what you feel like when you miss lunch or perhaps are late to get dinner going, imagine how you’d feel if that stretched out beyond a day! How hungry would you be and how sane would you feel if you hadn’t eaten in 40 hours? Now consider your weakness if you had been fasting for forty days! Luke’s comment on Jesus’ state, “he was hungry,” seems like an almost intentional understatement.

So it’s during this period of fasting that Satan comes to Jesus to tempt him. Satan’s tactics are all over the place because he doesn’t really care how he gets Jesus to sin, he just knows he needs to get Jesus to sin. Just one sin would make Jesus entirely ineligible to be our Savior and ruin God’s entire plan of salvation. So right here at the start of Jesus’ ministry, Satan digs in—and notably, God lets him. Remember that Jesus is in this position because he was led by the Spirit in the wilderness. This whole scene is not Jesus being victimized by Satan; this is part of his work for us; he is there willingly.

The first temptation that Luke records for us seems to hit Jesus at his physical weakness as well as at his ministerial weakness. Satan might have assumed that Jesus, the newly anointed prophet, would be eager to prove his status. So Satan tempts him to prove that he is God’s Son. Such a temptation probably worked well for Satan with many newly-minted leaders in the church over the centuries, to overextend to prove their legitimacy. And pile Jesus’ fasting on top of that! Regardless of whether this particular temptation took place on day 5, 15, or 40 of his time in the wilderness (or repeatedly during these days), Jesus would have been hungry; the stone-into-bread would have been tempting. So, “If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become bread.”

We see a pattern in Jesus’ answers to Satan’s temptations. He doesn’t engage Satan in a lengthy dialogue, logically explaining why that action would be bad. Instead, he answers Satan’s temptations directly with God’s Word. In this case, a quote from Deuteronomy chapter 8. In what Jesus quotes, Moses encourages the Israelites to look to God for this sustenance and support as they had during the 40 years wandering in the wilderness, knowing that ultimately it’s not bread that sustains someone, but God’s providence. So, if Jesus needed bread, his heavenly Father would provide. But in this moment, the Father didn’t; Jesus wouldn’t succumb to Satan’s trap.

Satan moves on to a different tactic in the second recorded temptation. He lays out all the glory of all the kingdoms of the world. “I will give you all this power and the glory of these kingdoms,” Satan promises through lying teeth. What might have been Satan’s thought here? Again, he may be following his playbook for what might trip-up the average new prophet of God. “Wouldn’t it be better for your message and ministry to be well-known, Jesus? Wouldn’t the glory and splendor of all the world’s kingdoms be a good place to start? Wouldn’t it be good to have a global audience right from the get-go instead of fighting tooth-and-nail for every convert in backwater Judea and Galilee?” But, what’s the trade for such a head start to one’s ministry? “If you worship me, it will all be yours.”

In some ways, this temptation is more about Satan than Jesus. This is what he has always wanted. He wanted glory and recognition. He wanted to be over and above all. He wanted the glory due only to God. That was the reason for his original rebellion. If he could get the Son of God to worship him in this moment, he would have won his heart’s desire. But Jesus quickly throws a restatement of the First Commandment back at him from Deuteronomy 6, “You shall worship the Lord your God and serve him only.” As far as our Gospel goes, strike two.

Finally, Satan goes for the big guns. Jesus has shown a reliance on God’s Word, so Satan co-opts it. He quotes God’s promise to be with and protect his people from Psalm 91. “If this is true,” Satan reasons with Jesus, “throw yourself off the top of the temple and let God protect you. Surely you, mighty Son of God, of all people, would be in the arms of these powerful servants!” One wonders if Satan is still salty about God’s orders to the angelic host to serve and protect mankind, orders that would have applied to Satan before his rebellion against God.

But Jesus knows that this is not the purpose of that promise. God is not saying, “Get yourself in as much trouble as possible! I’ve got you!” Instead, God’s promise in Psalm 91 is that as we go about our lives, God will be our guardian and protector. He is our shelter and protects our tents (Psalm 91:9-10). And that is made clear as Jesus quotes God’s direction through Moses, again in Deuteronomy 6, not to put God to the test.

What are we to make of this whole scene? Let us not forget the “Christ for us” principle! Here Jesus is not saying, “Look how easy it is to fight temptation! I did it on over a month’s worth of hungry days!” No, this is Jesus fighting this spiritual battle for us. He is standing up to Satan and swatting down his temptations in our place.

We need only examine the temptations and find modern equivalents for us. Have we ever valued the things of this world more than we trusted God? Have we ever made an idol out of luxury and physical security, valuing them above all things? “Tell these stones to become bread”—regardless of what God has promised?

Or what about acceptance from the world? How likely are we to jettison our faith and dedication to God if it means a welcome or even praise from those in the world? Do we seek to blend in with our friends, even doing things we know are wrong, so that we’re not kicked out of the group or thought of as weird? Do we succumb to the temptation to fit in with the crowd at work, the bar, or our other relationships so that we fade into the background or foreground? “I will give you all this power and the glory of these kingdoms … if you worship me, it will all be yours”—while you at the same time stomp all over your faith in Jesus, or at least keep it as hidden as possible, like a plant tucked away in a basement?

Do we ever distort God’s promises of protection? Do we assume that he’ll save us from any and every trouble in the way we want—and then get angry when he doesn’t? If I face the consequences for my own sin and carelessness, do I shake the fist at God rather than turning the reflection inward on my choices and priorities? Do I create promises that God has never made and assume he’ll do my will, rather than the other way around? “Throw yourself down from here”—not in faith, but in spite, daring God to save you!

To one degree or another, we are all guilty of all of these lines of thought and action. It might not play out in precisely the way we just mentioned in your life, but somewhere inside all of us is the drive to do exactly what Satan tried to get Jesus to do. And this underscores the truth that the writer to the Hebrews shared in our Second Reading this morning. Truly, we have a high priest who has been tempted in every way, just as we are, yet was without sin (Hebrews 4:15). Jesus doesn’t just know this temptation, he shut it down and defeated it. He defeated it for you.

We know where Lent is taking us. Before we turn around twice we’ll be in Holy Week. We’ll be sitting here in church on a dark Friday night, hearing the agonizing screams of the Son of God abandoned by his heavenly Father. But again, that will be for us. It will be for us because we have sinned so often under temptation, when even once was too much. In that moment on the cross, the only person who was ever without sin will suffer as if he was the only person who ever had sinned, bearing the full brunt of hell as the payment for your sins and mine. Christ for us.

So, we can take some practical pointers from this scene between Satan and Jesus. When we are facing temptation to do what we know is wrong—what God clearly says is wrong—quote God’s Word at Satan. Jesus isn’t just making declarations of truth as God; he’s quoting the Scriptures, which we also have to fend off our adversary. You have the same tool, the same sword of the Holy Spirit, at your disposal. Use it and, as James says, “Submit yourselves to God. Resist the Devil, and he will flee from you” (James 4:7).

But this is not just a how-to guide for fighting temptation. It’s not even primarily such a guide. No, this is primarily Jesus defeating temptation for you and me. Jesus’ perfect life is credited to your account and my account so that, in his forgiving sacrifice and perfect crediting of his life for ours, we are the perfect people that God demands we be. In “Christ for us,” we are victorious because he was victorious in our stead, partly here in the wilderness, and ultimately at the cross.

Jesus has conquered Satan for you! Thanks be to God! Amen.  

Soli Deo Gloria

Sermon prepared for Gloria Dei Lutheran Church (WELS), Belmont, CA (www.gdluth.org) by Pastor Timothy Shrimpton. All rights reserved. Contact pastor@gdluth.org for usage information.