"Request with Thanksgiving!" (Sermon on Philippians 4:4-9) | November 26, 2025

Sermon Text: Philippians 4:4-9
Date: November 26, 2025
Event: Thanksgiving, Set 1

Philippians 4:4-9 (EHV)

Rejoice in the Lord always! I will say it again: Rejoice! 5Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. 6Do not worry about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. 7And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

8Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if anything is excellent, and if anything is praiseworthy, think about these things. 9The things that you learned, received, heard, and saw in me: Keep doing these things. And the God of peace will be with you. 

Request with Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving and contentment go hand-in-hand. If you’re thankful for what you have, there’s a high likelihood that you’re content. And likewise, if you’re content with what you have, you’re probably thankful for it.

But I think it can be tempting to equate contentment and thanksgiving with never desiring something more, but in truth, it’s a bit more nuanced than that. Certainly a lack of gratitude and seeking after more! more! more! is a problem. But can you be thankful for what you have, content even, and still desire something beyond it?

Perhaps an illustration: the family is finishing dinner. There are no plans for the rest of the evening, and everyone is feeling satisfied. The child asks if they can go get a treat out once everything from the meal is cleaned up. If the answer is “no,” she won’t be throwing a fit. She’s just wondering—great if it can happen, and fine if it can’t. It’s just an idea for a family outing to enjoy that evening.

The little girl in that example is not unthankful for what she has; quite the opposite! And in some ways, it is her thankfulness and contentment that lead her to make the request. She knows that her family loves her and wants her to be happy, and so she makes this small request to see if they can do something special since they have the time.

It is with these thoughts that we approach our second reading for this evening. Taken from the tail end of Paul’s “letter of joy” to the Philippians, these are essentially Paul’s final words to the Christians in Philippi, a closing direction for these dearly loved children in their walk of faith and their relationship with God. Paul begins this section with famous (and perhaps obvious) words about our response to the blessings we have from God: Rejoice in the Lord always! I will say it again: Rejoice!

Of course, that’s what we want to do. We who know the love of God want to rejoice in his blessings—to be awash in joy knowing God’s love for us and the eternal blessings that he provides. But sometimes we might wonder how. Like, clearly, being in church for worship is a way to do that. A thankful prayer in the middle of the day is part of that rejoicing.

But Paul goes on to other ways that we can express that joy in God’s love for us: Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. The way you live your life, the way that you are an ambassador for God to those around you, is part of this thankfulness. Letting your gentleness be known to everyone means you don’t let anger grip you. You don’t let harshness spew out of your mouth. You treat people and situations with compassion and decency because you know the compassion God has shown you.

A lack of worry is a common goal stated in Scripture. But it’s not just the “worry is not productive, so stop it” one might find in secular self-help books. As we noted a few Sundays ago, worry is really the brain freaking out about the future because it cannot find any certainty. But for the Christian, it’s not just “stop worrying,” it’s “you don’t have to worry because the almighty Creator of the universe is working all things out for your eternal good.”

That confidence influences the prayers and petitions that we bring to God. How are your prayers different if you trust that God is taking care of you, loving you, doing what he knows, in his perfect knowledge, is best for you, working all things out for your benefit? Prayers with this motivation and backing are not desperate, but rather an expression of trust. It is not that we expect everything in our lives to be perfect—we know for certain that will never happen—but we know that when we bring our requests to God, they are received with love.

Which brings us to thankful prayers and requests. It’s not just saying thank you to God who loves us and has saved us (though that is certainly part of it!). But even more so, it is approaching God with a thankful heart that says, “I know and trust the promises you’ve made to me. Thank you for that faith, thank you for all you do. Because I know your love for me, I bring this further request before you.” It’s not unlike the little girl bringing the request for dessert out after dinner to the family. These prayers are not selfish or greedy; this is exactly what God wants us to be doing!

This stems the tide of worry because the thankful heart is firmly planted in the peace that God brings. Paul’s familiar words here generally serve as the closing encouragement for our sermons: The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. This peace of God is something very special and unique. This is not the promise that he will provide us with daily bread. This is not even that he will work good from difficulty and suffering. No, this peace of God is the eternal peace brought only by Jesus.

God’s forgiveness is the anchor point, the lynch pin in our whole relationship with him. Without the peace of Jesus’ forgiveness won at the cross, we would be in a constant state of distress and hopelessness because we’d go through this life with the eternal albatross of our sins around our neck, while not being able to do a thing about it. It would drag us down to the depths of hell because that is sin’s just punishment.

The peace of God goes beyond all of our comprehension and understanding because the way he brought that peace is completely baffling. We sinned against him, but his love was so great that he took the punishment for our sins against him on himself. It’s like someone stealing your car, and then you volunteer to go to jail for grand theft auto, only infinitely worse. It makes no sense to human reason. Even for us who know that God loves us, it still leaves us dumbfounded that he would do such a thing for people like us. And yet, here we are, standing with completely mystified human reason, yet also standing in the peace of God.

Thus, we thank him with our contentment, with our gratitude, with our public gentleness, and even with our trust-emboldened requests.

There’s an internal knock-on effect to all of this. As the peace of God guards your heart and mind, your heart and mind are changed. Knowing the forgiveness of sins means we no longer have the desire to dwell in the muck and mire of our sins. Rather, we want to dwell on those things that are pleasing to God. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if anything is excellent, and if anything is praiseworthy, think about these things.

If our thoughts are dominated by these high standards—things that please God rather than things that gratify our sinful flesh—that will also shape our thanks-driven requests. The peace of God means we won’t ask for anything sinful or spiritually harmful. It means we won’t want God to do what we know he hates. It means that no matter what the content of our prayers, we know that God’s will is always higher and greater and more praiseworthy than our will, so our prayers will always ask that his will, not ours, ultimately be done.

We know that all of this is easier said that done. It’s difficult to keep our sinful natures in check, to live as we want to live. Even Paul wrestled with not being able to do the things he wanted to and constantly committing the sins that he hated! But as we struggle and strive for this life of thanks, we are an encouragement for each other.

Paul noted this, even while acknoelgeing his failings. He knew that as he strived for this life, he could be an example, an encouragement, for his dearly-loved Philippians. The things that you learned, received, heard, and saw in me: Keep doing these things. And the God of peace will be with you. So, too, can we be that for each other. Not perfectly, but in our striving for thanksgiving, in our striving to live contented lives, entrusting the God who loves us and forgives us with all of our requests, we can be this model for each other.

So, my dear brothers and sisters. Follow my lead in these thankful requests to God flowing from a heart overflowing with gratitude for my sins forgiven. As you follow my lead, I will follow yours down the same path. And together, the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard [our] hearts and [our] minds in Christ Jesus. 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.

"Welcome to the New Jerusalem!" (Sermon on Revelation 21:1-6) | November 2, 2025

Sermon Text: Revelation 21:1-6
Date: November 2, 2025
Event: All Saints Day (Observed), Year C

Revelation 21:1-6 (EHV)

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, because the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. And the sea no longer existed. 2And I saw the Holy City, the New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.

3And from the throne I heard a loud voice that said, “Look! God’s dwelling is with people. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them, and he will be their God. 4He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain, because the former things have passed away.”

5The one who was seated on the throne said to me, “Look, I am making everything new!” He also said, “Write, for these words are trustworthy and true.” 6And he said to me:

It is done.
I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End.
To anyone who is thirsty,
I will give freely from the spring of the water of life.

Welcome to New Jerusalem!

I’ve been spending a good amount of time the last week or so looking over maps for the East Coast to get familiar with the lay of the land before Alex and I head out for a long weekend trip there the end of the week. One thing that stands out as you look at a map of that area, or really in a lot of places in the United States, is how often the “New” prefix is added to the front of place names. New York, New Hampshire, New England, New Mexico. All of these exist because people were going from their home to a new place, and they had the goal to make the new place like their home, but better. It’ll be like York—but new and better. The region will be like England, but new and better.

This morning, through the revelation given to the apostle John, Jesus gives us a glimpse of the same kind of concept: New Jerusalem, like Jerusalem, but new and better.

To really get the full effect of what this New Jerusalem will be, we should spend a few minutes considering what the original Jerusalem was (or should have been). God described Jerusalem as the place he chose to place his name. Initially, as he established the rule of King David, but even more so once David’s son, Solomon, completed the temple there. At the dedication of that temple, Solomon quoted God’s intent: “From the day I brought my people out from the land of Egypt, I did not choose a city from all the tribes of Israel to build a house for my Name to be there. I did not choose a man to be ruler over my people Israel. But now I have chosen Jerusalem as the place where my Name will be, and I have chosen David to be over my people Israel” (2 Chronicles 6:5-6). Jerusalem would be the place where God dwelt with his people, where his name would rest.

But that presence was a veiled presence. The pillar of cloud and fire (the visible sign of God’s presence that had led the Israelites out of Egypt) descended on the temple to signify that this was truly his house. Surely, God is omnipresent—is present everywhere all the time at once—but in Jerusalem, he specially highlighted his presence. But his presence descended on the temple’s inner sanctuary, the Most Holy Place, when the Ark of the Covenant was placed there. Only the high priest could enter into that inner place, and even then, he could only go one day a year—on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. And on that singular, special day, he could not enter without the blood of a sacrifice made for his own sins and also for the sins of the people. At the temple, the dwelling of God was with his people, but only sort of. It wasn’t a full presence, and it certainly wasn’t made accessible to everyone. The New Jerusalem is going to take the original Jerusalem—even in its most idyllic form—and improve on it.

To understand the true nature of this New Jerusalem, we need to go back well before Solomon’s temple, David’s rule, or even the founding of that city at all. We need to go back to Eden, to where the dwelling of God was truly and directly with people. Before the fall into sin, Adam and Eve walked, lived, and worked alongside God. They were created in his image—in perfect harmony with his will—and thus had a perfect relationship with God beyond anything that we’ve ever experienced between people or even with God in this life.

But that closeness, that bond, that unity was completely uprooted when Adam and Eve sinned. They listened to Satan’s temptations and took fruit from the tree that God had told them not to eat from—the one command he had given them! And in that moment, everything changed. Instead of walking with God, they hid from God. Instead of being united with God and agreeing with his will, they started playing the blame game for their sin, Adam even blaming God, accusing him of giving him a supposedly faulty wife in Eve. Where there had been unity, there was division. Death is that division—physical death that would divide soul from body, spiritual death that would divide people from God through unbelief, and ultimately, eternal death that would separate sinners from God forever in hell.

From then on, despite God’s presence and providence, it could not be said that God and human beings dwelled together. A wall of sin divided us from the divine, and it was a wall that we could not tear down or dig through. Sin was a problem that we could not solve.

The solution to that problem was hinted at in the Tabernacle and Solomon’s temple. There was a way to come into that Most Holy Place, but as we said, access was limited to just the high priest, and he needed the blood of a sacrifice for sin to enter. Later, the apostle Paul would make it clear and blunt that the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23). Later, the writer to the Hebrews would add on, assuring us that without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins (Hebrews 9:22). In order to solve sin, blood and death have to be involved.

But not ours. I mean, it should be ours, but there’s no way for your death or my death to bring about forgiveness, because if the punishment for our sins is laid on us, that punishment will never end. No, if sin was to be solved, if we were ever to have an actual reunion with God, someone would have to take our place. And not just any someone, but God himself. And that’s exactly what he did.

Jesus, God from eternity, took on our human flesh and lived in a state of humiliation among us. Isaiah had foretold his coming with the title “Immanuel,” meaning “God with us.” God’s dwelling was with people again, and while this was more visible and robust than the dwelling shown at the temple, it was a temporary dwelling, like a few nights’ stay in a tent while camping.

That temporary stay saw its conclusion at the cross. There, Jesus completely and fully took our place under the punishment our sins had earned. He took those wages of our sin—eternal death—onto himself and made satisfaction for them. As a human being, he was able to die for us; as God, that death was able to count for all people of all time. His death rescued us, and the proof of his victory is there in the tomb where they laid his body. Unlike the tombs of everyone else who has ever died, Jesus’ tomb is empty. He won the victory. He rescued us from the sin that made our dwelling with God impossible.

We heard God proclaim it in the last verse of our First Reading: “It is done.” While a different word in Greek, we can’t help but think of Jesus’ word from the cross, “It is finished” (John 19:30). Nothing is left to be completed. There is no work that you or I need to do to make things right again. Jesus, the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, did it all.

That means that we will not have a continuously veiled presence of God with us like we have right now. And it certainly means we don’t have a complete separation from God for eternity ahead of us, as our sins deserved. No, because of Jesus’ complete forgiveness, we look forward to a time when we will see God face to face. It will not be a temporary dwelling like Jesus’ first coming; it will be a permanent living directly with God forever. Like Eden, but without the threat of sin to ruin it.

Listen to how God describes this New Jerusalem, what living there would be like. These are probably familiar words, but let them wash over you this morning as something brand new: “Look! God’s dwelling is with people. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them, and he will be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain, because the former things have passed away.”

Like Jerusalem, but new and better. Truly, like Eden, but new and better. Like today, but new and immeasurably better.

Those who have gone before us, those who have died in faith, trusting in God’s promise of complete forgiveness, are already there in that New Jerusalem, that perfect city with no more death, sorrow, crying, or pain. That’s in part what we celebrate on this All Saints Day. We thank God for the perfect rest that he has given to his holy ones, washed clean in the blood of Jesus and brought into that heavenly dwelling.

But we also celebrate our own certainty that we will join their number. While we are not there yet, you and I are the saints of God, made holy in Jesus’ full and free forgiveness for us. When our time comes, God will bring us to that New Jerusalem, rescue us from everything that would harm us, and cut away the sin that so easily entangles us. We will be reunited with those who have gone before us and those who will come after us for an eternity of being people who dwell with God.

So, my fellow saints, welcome to the New Jerusalem. We haven’t crossed the threshold just yet, but it is absolutely certain that we will, for Jesus’ sake! 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.

"The LORD Reforms Us" (Sermon on Jeremiah 31:31-34) | October 26, 2025

Sermon Text: Jeremiah 31:31-34
Date: October 26, 2025
Event: Reformation Day, Year C

Jeremiah 31:31-34 (EHV)

Yes, the days are coming, declares the LORD,
when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel
and with the house of Judah.
32It will not be like the covenant I made with their fathers,
when I took them by the hand
and led them out of the land of Egypt.
They broke that covenant of mine,
although I was a husband to them, declares the LORD.
33But this is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel after those days,
declares the LORD.
I will put my law in their minds,
and I will write it on their hearts.
I will be their God,
and they will be my people.
34No longer will each one teach his neighbor,
or each one teach his brother, saying, “Know the LORD,”
because they will all know me,
from the least of them to the greatest, declares the LORD,
for I will forgive their guilt,
and I will remember their sins no more.

The LORD Reforms Us

When do you need reform? Activist groups may call for reform in some area of leadership or government when they sense that the plans and actions of those in charge are not in line with the leadership’s stated goals—or the desires of the people involved. You may sense a need for reform in your own life when bad habits start pushing out good habits, and you find yourself not dedicated to your priorities and values like you want to be. Reform may be called for when a group’s actions or policies reflect a different era. These ways of doing things may have made sense in the past, but perhaps that reasoning no longer applies today.

A commonality among all of these different types of reform is that it’s going to be work. It’s going to be uncomfortable. It’s going to be difficult. Trying to steer the ship of an organization from the bottom up when those from the top disagree is a gargantuan task. Implementing new plans and goals that are different from the standard, traditional path someone has been following for a long time can be incredibly taxing. And I don’t need to tell you how tough it is to fight against your own ingrained habits to make long-lasting, meaningful changes in your day-to-day life.

All reform is uncomfortable because it’s tackling the status quo and trying to change it; it’s a fight against inertia, and sometimes it feels like trying to roll a boulder up a steep hill.

As we observe and celebrate the 508th anniversary of the beginning of the Lutheran Reformation this morning, we thank God for all the blessings he brought to the church through Martin Luther and the other reformers many years ago that we still benefit from today. But we also do well to recognize that this reformation work in the 1500s was not unique to that time; this is work that God had been doing and will continue to do among his people as long as this world endures.

There are many periods of reformation within Bible history that we could point to, but our focus this morning is the work of the prophet Jeremiah. Jeremiah’s ministry was often pretty bleak. He ministered among an unfaithful nation-church as he served as a prophet to the nation of Judah. The leaders and the people of Judah were often unfaithful to God’s direction and teaching. In fact, Judah was already a splinter nation from the formerly great nation of Israel. After the days of King Solomon, that nation broke into two pieces. The northern piece was also unfaithful (perhaps even more thoroughly than Judah) and met their end through sweeping exile by the nation of Assyria some 150 years before the days of Jeremiah.

But Judah’s unfaithfulness was very real, and though the nation was rescued from the consequences of their unfaithfulness at the hands of Assyria, it ended up just being a delay rather than a complete rescue. Eventually, God had to step in to force a true reform that the people were not doing themselves. He did this, in part, through the exile of the people of Judah by the nation of Babylon.

It's at this time of unfaithfulness and consequences to that unfaithfulness that Jeremiah served. He had the unenviable task of warning the people that the nation’s destruction and people’s exile were coming. There would be no miraculous rescue from Babylon had there been from Assyria 150 years earlier.

God describes his people’s unfaithfulness to him here in Jeremiah and elsewhere using the terms of a marriage that has fallen to pieces. The people’s unfaithfulness was spiritual adultery against their loving husband. When God says, “They broke that covenant of mine,” he uses the terms of annulment and divorce. The people’s unfaithfulness to God’s covenant sought to end the spiritual, eternal marriage of God to his people.

It would be easy to imagine that the Babylonian captivity would be God’s version of giving his wife a certificate of divorce and sending her away. But this is reform, not abandonment. Yes, Jerusalem would be pulverized by Nebuchadnezzar, the Babylonian king. Yes, God’s people would be ripped out of their homeland and sent marching across the Fertile Crescent to Babylon. But this was not God divorcing his adulterous wife and sending her away; this was part of God’s reform of his Old Testament church.

God promised that seventy years after the exile, they would return. And in many ways, this reform “worked.” After the Babylonian exile, we don’t really see God’s people struggling with the worship of false gods like Baal, Asherah, and Molech. Instead, there is a newfound commitment to the truth of God’s Word and prioritizing it in the lives of God’s people.

But this reform is not just a story of getting a people group to straighten up and fly right. That would ignore the reality of sin and imply that God was having the people fend for themselves and even save themselves. Instead, ahead of the exile, God promises something different, something new, through Jeremiah: Yes, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah. It will not be like the covenant I made with their fathers.

The “old” covenant that God made with the nation of Israel when he brought them out of Egypt was an earthly-blessing-focused covenant. God would be their God and bless them. He would give them the Promised Land as an enduring gift on the condition that they were faithful to him. Their job was to obey God; God’s job was to provide for them.

Obviously, we know how that went. But here God is promising something new and different. Instead of the old covenant promised and given primarily through Moses, this new covenant would be entirely God’s doing. It would be radically different in that it wouldn’t involve any work from the people at all. God was making and keeping this promise completely independent of anyone else. But this is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the LORD. I will put my law in their minds, and I will write it on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people.

The word translated “law” here in v. 33 is probably best understood as the whole of God’s Word. God is not simply promising to put his commands into the people’s hearts. In many ways, that was already true as all people are born with a natural knowledge of God and with that have a conscience that testifies to God’s will—what things are right and what things are wrong. No, this is something bigger, broader, something God will have to inscribe on the hearts of his people. This heart-writing will include the gospel; it will include God’s grace—his undeserved love—for his people. This reform would be centered not on God’s justice, but on his mercy, his forgiveness. No longer will each one teach his neighbor, or each one teach his brother, saying, “Know the LORD,” because they will all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the LORD, for I will forgive their guilt, and I will remember their sins no more.

This forgiveness—so potent that it makes the all-knowing God forget!—would be carried out by a descendant of the people facing exile. Almost 600 years after Jeremiah, the time will fully come, and God will send his Son, Jesus, into this world. God himself would take on our human nature, our flesh and blood, to live and die as our substitute. In the blood of Jesus shed at the cross, atonement—payment for sin—would be made to cover our sins and reunite us with our God.

God would reform the Israelites to be faithful, but more than that, they would be reformed to be forgiven. The faithful among this nation would put their trust in God as their eternal Savior and giver of eternal life. The forgiveness and even the faith to trust it would be a one-sided action on God’s part. Our obedience—a life of sanctification, of good works—is purely a thankful response to God’s freely-given grace and forgiveness.

The church of Martin Luther’s day was unfaithful to God’s covenant in a similar way to Old Testament Judah. The papacy and the church in Rome at large had distorted God’s Word to such a point as to rob all the comfort God intended the people to have. The message of sins fully and freely forgiven in Jesus’ death was absent, replaced with a message of works. If you wanted to receive actual forgiveness for your sins, the church said, you needed to do something to compensate for it. Maybe that was prayers, maybe that was some works of service. Perhaps that was paying the church money so they would tell you you were forgiven.

None of this is what God said, so through Luther and others, God restored the true teaching of his Word. While reform never really came for the Roman church (as it still holds to this works-righteousness teaching even today), it did come for Christendom at large. All over the western world, God worked a change so that the people would hear and know what he had done, the new covenant he had established, a covenant that did not call for works from us, but is a one-sided covenant that depends entirely on God’s undeserved love for us.  

We need God’s reform. We need him to correct our hearts and actions. We need him to redirect our gaze away from ourselves and back to him. We need him to show us our great need for rescue and that we have that rescue freely given in Jesus’ work for us.

Thanks be to God! He has written these truths on your heart and mine through his Word and sacraments. By God’s grace, we don’t have to encourage each other to learn about—to know—the God of free and faithful grace. He has made himself known to us and even dwells within us. And the promise made through Jeremiah, the promise reinforced at the time of the reformation, is the promise that rings true for you and me today: I will forgive their guilt, and I will remember their sins no more.

My brothers and sisters, so complete is your forgiveness that God can’t even remember that you’ve ever been unfaithful to him or sinned against him. Our sins are gone, completely wiped out in the blood of Jesus shed for us. So let us live our lives in a way that reflects the reformation that God has worked in each of us. Let us give thanks to God our Savior in everything we say, think, and do—now and forever! 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.

"Let Us Tend the Tree of Faith" (Sermon on Luke 13:6-9) | December 29, 2024

Sermon Text: Luke 13:6-9
Date: December 29, 2024
Event: New Year’s Eve (Observed), Set 3

Luke 13:6-9 (EHV)

He told them this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard. He came looking for fruit on it, but he did not find any. 7So he said to the gardener, ‘Look, for three years now I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and I have found none. Cut it down. Why even let it use up the soil?’ 8But the gardener replied to him, ‘Sir, leave it alone this year also, until I dig around it and put fertilizer on it. 9If it produces fruit next year, fine. But if not, then cut it down.’ ”

Let Us Tend the Tree of Faith

I was listening to a year-in-review podcast last week, and one of the hosts of the show made a joke at one point along the lines of, “It’s good to know that once January 1 comes, once the clock ticks over to midnight and it’s 2025, all the world’s problems will disappear.” Truly, January 1, 2025 will not really be different than December 31, or December 29, or…

It’s one of the reasons I have no qualms about observing the New Year transition in worship today rather than two days from now. It’s not really that big of a deal. The opportunities for reflection and forward-thinking are not limited to one 24-hour period. It’s one of the reasons I really don’t like New Year’s Resolutions because, if you’ve identified something you want to do or a change you want to make, why not start it on December 29th or November 17th or whatever rather than waiting for this arbitrary point in the future.

That being said, there is a benefit to the themes of taking-stock and planning-ahead that these late days in the years provide. And while things around us may not change all that much as we turn the calendar, we can know for certainty that the God who provides for us, forgives us, and protects us does not change at all. So we move forward into a new year under the same perfect providence that he has provided up to this day. It’s a perfect providence not because our life right now is idyllic but because he is working everything for what he knows is our eternal good.

Since we know the promises and works of God and how important this all is, we do well to prioritize it no matter where in the year we fall. This morning, using Jesus’ parable of the fig tree as a guide, we’ll spend some time considering how we might better tend the tree of our faith today, on January 1, and throughout our lives.

The parable Jesus tells is very simple. There’s a tree in a vineyard that is not producing anything. The owner of the vineyard wants to get rid of it so that soil can be used for something else, while the caretaker asks for some more time to care for the tree and see if starts to produce fruit. The owner agrees—for a time.

The parable's application is pretty straightforward and very much lines up with John the Baptist’s preaching that we heard in the Advent season just a couple of weeks ago. In order for a fruit tree to be worth anything, it needs to produce fruit. Likewise, a person can and should produce fruit of thanksgiving to God—the fruit of repentance. Failure or refusal to produce such fruit in our lives points to a real problem with our faith.

And so it’s not surprising that the parable's context is Jesus preaching a message that sounds very much like the message that John the Baptist proclaimed. In the verses just prior to our parable, Jesus twice repeats the stern warning, “But unless you repent, you will all perish too” (Luke 13:3, 5). “Perish” is a much stronger word than “die.” When God uses this word, it points not to physical death but eternal death in hell.

So, a lack of repentance leads to hell. A lack of fruit causes the tree to be cut down and discarded. What are we to make of this? And how does that sync with biblical truths that we are saved by grace through faith alone?

It’s perhaps a bit of a trite saying, but I think it can be instructive: it is true that we are saved through faith alone, but that faith is never alone. Faith always has works, fruits of repentance, attached to it. The faith that trusts Jesus as Savior naturally produces good works in thanksgiving to God. A problem with thankful good works may point to a problem with faith.

But, in reality, we all have a problem with faith. None of us is entirely governed by the faith given to us by God. We all still have a sinful nature that is vehemently opposed to that faith, that fights it tooth and nail. If, in thanksgiving to God, faith wants us to go left, then the sinful nature wants us to go right; if faith wants us to go down, then the sinful nature wants us to go up. The sinful nature only wants the opposite of what God wants, often to a non-sensical and self-destructive degree.

So, part of us wants to bear excellent fruit in thanksgiving to the God who loves us and has forgiven us, while another part of us wants there to be no fruit at all. This is why you don’t always do the good things you want to do, why sin, at times, is a very tempting path—and perhaps even seems like the correct path! Even after God has created faith in our hearts, on our own, we are not healthy fig trees.

So what is the solution? Well, if we’re looking for the solution of “make there be no sin anymore in my life,” then we are going to be really disappointed. This side of eternity, no matter how genuine our faith is and how much we might want that to be the case, we won’t be able to make that happen. No, the real solution is labor, work with this tree of faith. Just as the caretaker pleaded with the owner, “Sir, leave it alone this year also, until I dig around it and put fertilizer on it,” we, too, have work to do.

What does “digging around and fertilizing” faith look like? How do we do that work? Well, just like a tree, it matters what you use. If you dig around a tree to aerate the soil a bit, you don’t want to do so in a way that damages the roots; that would be the complete opposite of what you’re trying to do! If you’re trying to fertilize the tree, you would want to use something that would actually make the soil better and thus the tree stronger. Using something that would poison or weaken the tree is the opposite of your goal.

So, too, if we’re going to tend to our tree of faith, we want to use the right tools and products and in the right way because doing this work in the wrong way could damage faith rather than strengthening it. So, what are the right tools and methods for this work?

First and foremost, tending to your faith is not an exploration of your thoughts and feelings. While our thoughts and emotions are valid and important, they’re not always accurate. For instance, on a really rough day, I may feel like God no longer cares about me. But is that true? No! No matter how deeply, sincerely, and honestly I feel that, my emotions do not dictate reality. My thinking may try to justify my actions, but that doesn’t mean it’s right.

The fruitless tree can’t just will itself into producing fruit; it needs work from the gardener. So, too, we cannot just will ourselves into stronger, healthier faith. We need God to do his work on us.

And while God technically could do that in an infinite number of ways, he has restricted himself to some very specific tools. God tends to your faith and mine through his Word. That Word may be read in our homes, listened to as it’s read or preached, remembered and meditated on, or in the case of the sacraments, connected to earthly elements like water in baptism and bread and wine in the Lord’s Supper.

While God does this work,  you and I have a part to play. We can’t make our faith stronger on our own, but we can put ourselves in a position to be surrounded by his Word, to be in a place where God will do the work he’s promised. So, tending to the tree of our faith means immersing ourselves in his Word.

How will that go? Well, it’s not going to be all pleasant. Remember, we still have that sinful nature in us, and part of combating this part of us is cutting it down to size. But that’s not comfortable because that means addressing the sinful nature’s wrongdoing, which is the same as addressing our own failures and faults. God’s Word is clear what the expectations are for us—perfection—and how far we are from that. That sin is why Jesus warned the people about perishing without repentance. Sin that is cherished, loved, and embraced is poison to faith.

But, of course, the message of God’s Word doesn’t end there. If it did, that would be utterly hopeless. The gardener has to address the problems with the fig tree, but with the goal that things will be better. It is the same with God’s Word.

It’s not until we see our need as made clear through the mirror of God’s law that we can appreciate the gospel. As we noted on Christmas Eve, the message of a Savior being born for you is only significant if you have something that you need to be saved from. Well, God’s law makes clear how hopeless our sinful situation is and how much we need rescue.

So God assures us time and time again, sometimes in direct conflict with our internal dialogue and emotions, that he loves us. While, yes, we have sinned, and yes, we do deserve eternal punishment in hell for those sins, Jesus took our place. Jesus paid the price we owed. Jesus has saved us through his perfect life that he applies to us and his death on the cross that removed every single one of our sins. Now, the soil can breathe and have nutrients rush to the roots.

And what is the result? What could the result be but joyous thanksgiving to God? When we can see and appreicate how great the love of God for us is, how could we possibly respond in joy to him? To be clear, any response, any good works we do are not done to earn God’s love or forgiveness; those have been given to us as a free gift. No, the fruit we produce is the result of thanksgiving to the God who loves us.

This will be a year-long, life-long struggle. The sinful nature will want to squash that fruit and the faith God has given will want to produce it, and you will be caught in the middle. Thus, we need that caretaking that comes only through God’s Word; we need to surround ourselves with the Word and benefit from the caretaking that he, alone, provides.

What will that look like practically? In part, it will look like what we’re doing right now: gathering around God’s Word for the edification that it brings and finding encouragement in the support of our fellow Christians. It will mean digging into God’s truths in the year ahead on a personal level, watering that tree of faith with his promises and assurances.

There are many tools that can help in this end. While you can certainly read your Bible cover-to-cover, or open up to a random page and try to soak in the truths of law and gospel presented there, a more structured, organized approach might be better and longer lasting. The Meditations booklets do a nice job of presenting a daily, bite-sized dose of God’s Word to digest at any point during the day. They also have the benefit of coordinating with the readings that we just worked through in worship the Sunday before.

In addition, I have some tools laid out on the back table that I would encourage you to consider using in the days ahead. Some of these will be new, some familiar, but all have the same goal: get myself into God’s truths to combat that sinful nature and allow the joy of God’s freedom to produce thankful fruit in my life. There are a few different Bible reading plans, be they the whole Bible, the New Testament, or the Gospels. There’s a book that harmonizes all four Gospels into one cohesive narrative. And if none of those are where your interests lie, talk to me and I can get you other recommendations for digging around and fertilizing that tree of faith.

In the end, it’s not the fruit that is the ultimate concern, but the fruit is a sign of the tree's health. The good works in our life are not the goal, but they are a useful metric to gauge the health of our faith. And that faith that clings to Jesus as the only and complete Savior from sin is what is most vital. A healthy tree will produce good fruit; a healthy faith will produce thankful fruit, and we want our faith to be healthy as we look forward to the rescue from this life that God will provide.

So today, tomorrow, and into the new year, prioritize being immersed in the Word and his comforts. Seek out opportunities to express your faith in your life through those thankful fruits. You are the dearly loved child of God. Enjoy that now and always! Happy New Year! 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.