Ah, Jerusalem. The pearl of the ancient world. With my parents in Jordan this week, I've thought about my own trip to the Holy Land. "Next year in Jerusalem." It's a saying we heard frequently while on tour; not sure quite what it means, but still, there's something magical about that place.

This is by far the most holy place in the world when you consider what has happened there. This was the very seat of God for years. Here's where you would find the temple, and where you find the temple you find God. This was where God acted to rescue His people. Not surprisingly, then, theologically, it was the highest point in the land, so that from no matter where you came, you always went up to Jerusalem. No place had more prophets there, no more great kings, no more devout people. When God became flesh, He may not have been born there, but He was there frequently. It was His family's custom, just as it was any other good Jewish family, to go there for the festivals. He was brought to Jerusalem when he was 40 days old. He was there when He was 12. He was there several times as an adult and had a great love for the city. A great and holy place.

A damned place. Literally. For all of her history, for all of her pomp, for all of her confidence of being God's chosen city, His favored city, her time was running out. Her days were numbered. She persisted in rebelling against the same One she bragged held her in favor. She was so sure nothing would happen to her. "We are God's people, nothing could happen to us!"

Funny, it did happen a couple hundred years earlier when the Babylonians ran her over and destroyed the city, even destroyed the temple. Being God's favored city did nothing for Shiloh either, which was once where the Tabernacle--the seat of God before the temple--stood. It was in shambles. Being in God's favor isn't simply status--once you have it you could never lose it. It is one of faith.

And at the moment that Jesus is standing there weeping over her, she has shown she has lost faith. At the very moment He is crying out over her she has allowed the seat of God, the temple, to be a place where men are cheating other men. The place of life has been turned into the seat of death.

She didn't see the judgment coming. But she should have. It came with a vengeance in 70 A.D. What does this have to say to us? Plenty.

Now, this may be more for me than for you. As a preacher, I'm afraid I may have been preaching in a way that has made it seem like Christianity was status and not faith, I was preaching a false security. I need to correct myself and correct what I have done if I have actually mislead any of you. It would hardly be intentional, nor is it false doctrine. Rather it's a matter of balance. Still, I'm concerned that I may have lead some of us to think, "It doesn't matter what I do as long as I am baptized, or as long as I say I have Jesus." As your teacher, called and ordained to be your spiritual leader, I need to help get that straight. That's the purpose for this reading, to remove any sense of false security.

Before we go any further, though, I'm also concerned about how you feel when you leave following the service and as you will see, it does relate. Some of you feel more weighed down when you leaven than you were when you arrived. You sat down in the pew feeling more lighthearted than when it was over and you got up to leave. That really bothers me. It should not be that way all.

I can't tell you how you should feel, but I would still say there are certain ways you should expect to feel. Many people would say joyful. That would be great. But let's shoot a little lower. Joy would be what you would feel if you completely grasped all that God is giving, all He has for you when you come to worship. So, hope for joy, but expect something not quite so strong--like relief. The "ahh" The sigh that says you can breathe easily again. You can probably already see where this is going.

Let me tell you a little story about relief that just happened yesterday. Late yesterday morning, I got a call from mom. It's 8:30 in the evening where she is. My dad was supposed to meet her at the Imperial hotel in Amman Jordan, but she had not seen him yet. Before he left He was nervous about getting around over there, and afraid he would get lost. So were we since this was not an arranged tour. He had only sent one e-mail, and it was basically to say he had arrived at Hippos for the archeological dig. She saw that he was drawing money out of the bank account, but it was considerably more than she expected that he would do. I had been mildly concerned throughout the week; now, it bloomed. The panic in my mother's voice caused a little gland in my brain to start shooting out a hormone that caused my blood pressure to rise and my heart to race. Adrenaline. I volunteered to track him down since her phone system wasn't working very well. After about a tense hour I finally located my dad and discovered he was fine. My parents had simply said they would meet in Jordan without specifying a time and with all the other circumstances, my mom feared the worst. I got caught up in it, and panicked, fearing the worst also. I talked to my dad; the adrenaline stopped pumping, and I felt relief.

Jerusalem knew no relief. She knew no panic. She didn't even know concern. She was playing a game with God, and as we know from the familiar passage, "Do not be deceived, God is not mocked." God's judgment was coming and she could care less.

We shouldn't know panic when we come to worship. Panic is way too strong, but concern, concern is always appropriate when we come to worship. Yet, we won't know relief if we never had any tense moments. And really when we are talking about the holiness of God, we should know tense moments. After all, we know we are not only to love God but to fear Him.

Yet, we lose sight of His holiness. We forget how much He hates sin. We tell ourselves, fear simply means respect. Respect sounds safe. But respect is almost the same thing. It means we recognize He has the authority to do something to us. He has the authority and the right to punish us. Might as well call respect what it is--fear of His wrath. We have deserved His wrath. We admit it. In a way, then, we should expect the worst. We deserve judgment. We're so quick to jump to Jesus that we don't even think about this. We cheat ourselves of the feeling of relief that comes from the Gospel.

But it may not be all you. I fear I have preached in a way that makes it seem like judgment would never come. I have robbed you of relief, because I have directed you to Jesus before you even felt concern for your sins, much less panic. I'm sorry if I have done that. I may have even been training you to be like Jerusalem. That is so wrong.

Jesus had died and forgiven the whole world, but only those in faith will be saved. We have fallen out of faith, if we think we can sin freely. Your baptism put you in faith; it gave you faith, but baptism isn't our "get out of jail free card." It doesn't give us the right to do whatever we want and then flash our cards. "Look, I'm your child. That's protected status. You can't do anything to me."

You can see that attitude is wrong. You know from your gut that's not what Christianity is. Christianity isn't looking for the most we can get away with. This way of living is unbelief. a life that sneers at God's mercy, and says, "I want to do what I want." Baptism doesn't give you that right.

If that's not what baptism is, what is baptism then? It is your assurance when the devil comes along and says, "You can't be forgiven." It says, when you are feeling desperate and unforgivable, "You are forgiven. You have already heard God say He forgives you. You will hear Him again when you worship."

Speaking of worship, we started this morning, singing, "Chief of sinners, though I be." Chief of sinners. This hymn is taken straight out of the verse in I Timothy, "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost."

Out of all sinners, you don't get worse than me. This captures the mood when we first come to worship. It's not that there aren't worse sinners, but you don't know them. You are the one who has witnessed your struggle to not sin, who has seen your love for it. You only know your own heart. You know how you have thought about what you wanted, and only through an effort took into consideration what was best for others. You know what God has to say about sinners. That if it weren't for Christ, we'd be goners.

Fortunately, we know Christ is here for us. He comes to give us forgiveness. Rotten sinners that we are, we are given refuge and relief when we come to worship, because this is where sinners come for mercy. They come to have Him give His gifts, to speak into their ears words of peace, to put into their mouths His flesh and blood, by which they are assured, "Yes, He truly died for me."

So we should come to the beginning of worship concerned about our sinfulness, desperate to hear God say He forgives us. What about when it's over? Have you ever noticed how quickly the Divine Service comes to an end, once you have received His body and blood? So much preparation before we actually get to eat His body and drink His blood. We have this dialog between pastor and people, then a prayer, then we sing the Sanctus. Then the Lord's Prayer. Following that, Jesus' words that consecrate the bread and wine. Then we have the peace, then the Agnus Dei, and finally we get what we have been waiting for. When it's over, though, we have just one song, one prayer, and then the blessing. It's like the very last thing to be on your mind is what you have just been given. You received the body and blood of Christ. What more could you want? What more could you hope to receive to give you relief, yes, maybe even joy as you walk out of church?

Therefore, relief and joy would be for the person who mourned their sin, who struggled against it, recognizing judgment is what he deserved, and then was told, "But in Christ you are forgiven."

But if we didn't struggle, if we simply gave in, then we would be like Jerusalem. "No problem. I've got my get out of jail free card."

It doesn't work that way. We don't live in sin. Paul was very clear about that. "How can we who died to sin, still live in it?" The obvious answer is, "We can't live in it." To do this is to be ruled by sin. We can't be ruled by sin and stay in grace.

This is what CFW Walther writes about: "It is absolutely impossible that a person who is in a state of grace should be ruled by sin. A pilgrim traveling on a lonely road, when attacked by a highway man, escapes from him at the first opportunity. He does not want to be overcome and slain. Christians are pilgrims through this world on their way to heaven. The devil, like a highway robber, assaults them, and they go down before him because of their weakness, not because they meant to go down. To a true Christian, his fall is forgiven because he daily turns to God in daily repentance with tears or at least heartfelt sighings for pardon. If a person allows sin to rule over him, this is a sure sign that he is not a Christian, but a hypocrite, no matter how pious he pretends to be."

These are strong words. None of us would want to say we aren't Christian or have someone say we aren't, but the only one, other than God, who would know for sure whether we were being ruled by sin or not, is ourselves. Chances are good, though, that if we are trying to use our get out of jail free card, we are being ruled by it. Paul again, "For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live."

If this jars you, if these words seem extremely harsh, it could be because I have done as I feared. Although I have been preaching Law, I haven't been pointing to the judgment that waits us if we should fall out of faith. I may have been preaching false security. Hopefully now, though, having heard these words you recognize, not only the judgment that waits us if we have fallen out of faith, but even more the grace and mercy of our God which we know in Christ.

Yes, as you look back and what I have said, I have encouraged you to mourn over your sin, just as Jesus had said to His disciples, "Blessed are those who mourn." It's what Jerusalem lacked and why Jesus wept over her. But when we mourn, we remember what Jesus also said, ...for they will be comforted.

AMEN