December 19, 2013

Psalm 51:10; Mark 7:31-37

In Nomine Jesu

Into the primordial darkness of nothing our Lord spoke. The all-powerful Triune God created all things, heaven and earth He created, with the simple movement of His tongue. Ex-nhilo, out of nothing, He created the blessings of creation. He spoke and the water was separated from dry ground. He spoke and the stars were hung in the heavens and He placed the planets in their orbit. He spoke and vegetation sprouted upon the newly made earth. He set the birds to flight and created all creatures, great and small; those who live in the sea and wander upon the earth. He spoke and created man in His image, in the image of God, He created Him. He formed man from the dust of the earth, breathing into him the very breath of life. He became a living being. His heart was clean, and from his flesh God created women. Her heart was clean also. And there in the plush and perfect garden man and woman lived together in perfect harmony with their God. They beheld their Creator and they had true fear, love, and trust in Him above all other things.   

How long this went on no mortal man can say. But soon the Word of truth would be confronted with a devious lie: “Did God really say.” The origin of all sin, death, false teaching, displeasure, brokenness, tragedy, grows from that ugly phrase. For to question God’s Word is to put into doubt His love and His desire that you remain a living being, knowing nothing but good. The unity of creation, its goodness and rightness was undercut by an ever so small drop of doubt. The Liar and Murderer planted the seed of death into creation by the soil of doubt and the manure of mistrust. 

We would only learn after it was too late that liars are just that, liars. Sin never delivers what it promises. We are always a step behind yet seemingly thinking that we are a step ahead. False gods and their temptations love to sucker punch, love to false advertise, to entice to the edge of destruction and then watch you fall into the pit of Sheol with a smile. We just don’t seem to get it. Sin is never without consequences, without lingering diseases and worries, without fear and shame, without danger or cost. What you call a moment of indiscretion, of giving in to fleshly desires, a bit of self indulgence and self-promotion is to another, to yourself, and worse yet, to those whom you love, a guaranteed entrance into a pit of suffering and sorrow.   

Into this deaf and lying world, filled with deception and death our Lord came. He came into this adolescent gathering of whining cheerleaders, cheaters and stoners, jocks and geeks. If all the world was high-school, Jerusalem under Pontius Pilate was the cafeteria, with all the teachers out of the room. The bullies, the drug dealers, and the prissy mean girls held court while the trembling in-coming freshmen did their best chameleon impression. I suppose seasoned police offices, county sheriffs, and military Special Forces wouldn’t walk into that cafeteria. But Jesus came in with eyes, ears, and arms wide open. He stood. And even the weakest of all felt powerful enough to abuse Him with sadistic glee. Crucify Him.    

Our peace comes and passes our understanding. We wonder how this could possibly be that the Almighty Creator of heaven and earth descends into our deaf, dumb, and blind human flesh. All this He does while we are still fighting for better seats at the Liar’s round table. He made Himself nothing. The King of all creation shedding His royal robe strips of blood, His miter for a crown of thorns, His golden throne for two beams of wood, His scepter for nails and a spear that would pierce Him through, His cross be born for me, for you. The Crucified Jesus bears your guilt and shame, your lies and deception, your sin and death. He took it all to His grave, buried it and left it there to rot and die. He humbly and freely went to His death so that we prideful and enslaved creatures would have His life poured out completely on the cross now delivered in a flood of regeneration, and a table blest with food immortal for mortals sake. It’s a blessed exchange. Jesus, Son of God, from heaven above to earth He comes, so that I from the dust of the earth to the heavens above would go.

The miracle of Advent is that of hearing the One who speaks life by His tongue. The miracle of Advent is that He comes to us in the very squalor and wretched circumstances that we have come to normalize by our countless rationalization and justifications. The friends of the deaf mute didn’t tell him that God wanted him that way and that He should just get use it and get on with life. No. A true friend speaks with you honestly and then tells you and brings you to Him who has done marvelous things. Indeed it was a marvelous and gross thing which Jesus did. He put His fingers into the man’s ears, spit in His own hand, and touched the man’s tongue. He looked into the heavens, sighed and said, “Ephphatha,” that is “be opened.” Salvation is a very earthy thing. It’s by no means sanitary, but even as it is drenched in the dirt, spit, water, and blood, in the mess of creation, it’s done, done here, and done well for the sake of your body and soul. At the hands of Jesus, at His voice that cries “Ephphatha, be opened” we receive into our open ears the voice of Him who not only created us, but redeems us, and even in death strong bands, raises us from the dead to live with Him in His kingdom forever. Because of this joyous truth and life “my heart for very joy must leap/ My lips no more can silence keep/ I, too, must sing with joyful tongue/ That sweetest ancient cradle song.

Cradle and cross, creation and redemption, justification and resurrection, it all goes together. It’s all bound up in Christ, our Advent King who comes into our most intimate spaces of life and speaks hope, peace, light, and promise of new life. Jesus, the very Word made flesh, comes and speaks the Word of truth into our deaf ears. He takes away whatever would keep us from hearing His Word and tunes our untamed tongues to sing of His glorious battle, to sing of His of manger of light, to sing of His cross and passion, to sing of His bursting of the grave, to sing of His marvelous deeds that have called us out of darkness into His eternal life and light. 

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son [+] and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

--The theme and outline of sermon are taken from From Heaven Above to Earth I Come (St. Louis: Concordia, 2006). The flesh of the sermon I have written