| Luke 14:1-11 | 17th Sunday after Trinity | Sept 14, 2008 |
I don't know what it is about us Baby Boomers-and yes, I'm right on the tail end of them-but for some reason we think everyone should know all about our pop trivia. We are so fascinated with it. I don't recall the earlier generation expecting us to know all about their celebrities, their music, their movies, their T.V. shows, but for some reason we expect everyone to know about ours.
I'm starting the sermon this way, because when I look at this text and consider its Gospel message, I can't shake off thinking about the Jeffersons, one of the T.V. shows that was on for about 10 years as I was growing up. I especially can't shake off the words of the theme song, "Movin' On up."
Now, if you are guilty of the ultimate sin against a Baby Boomer and haven't taken the pains to know our world, The Jeffersons are a spin-off from "All in the Family." It tells the funny stories about an African American couple that ran a dry cleaning business. The Jeffersons used to be the Bunkers' next door neighbor, but their business was such a success that they were able to leave the Bunkers behind and this working class neighborhood to move to the wealthy part of town. As song goes, "Movin on up, to the east side. To a deluxe apartment in the sky." "Movin' On Up." Moving up in the world. That's what they did. They end much better than they started.
Movin' on up. It's a perfect description of what happens to us when the Law and Gospel have done their work in us and to us. What does the Law do to us, but crush us? It grinds us into the ground. It shows us what we are. It shows us where we stand with a holy God. There is no elevating of ourselves there.
Think about men of the Bible when they were in the presence of the Lord. They were crushed. Isaiah. "Woe unto me for I am a man of unclean lips and I live among people with unclean lips." Peter. "Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinner." And John, poor John doesn't say anything, he just falls at the Lord's feet, as though he were dead.
Low? They couldn't get any lower. They felt miserable. Have you ever been so embarrassed, so humiliated, so devastated you wanted to sink into the floor?
I know. What about those commercials during Sunday afternoon football? If you watch any football on Sunday afternoons, you know exactly what I'm talking about. I think it is Southwest Airlines. Someone does something terribly embarrassing, and the next scene flashes a question: Want to get away?
Oh yes. These guys wanted to get away. They did not want to be there. They were in the presence of holiness and they felt horrible about it, because they brought nothing but corruption to it. They would not argue for a closer position or try to explain why they sinned. They knew it was pointless.
Yeah, we can try to defend why we do something wrong when we are talking to our family members or friends, or even when we are praying silently, but come up here to the sanctuary, right here at the altar rail and try to justify yourself, try to explain away your sins, and you know it is pointless. It's hard to even name the sin, to say it out loud, no matter where you are. But it's a much worse kneeling here at the railing, speaking aloud your sins. You know this isn't where you are going to get away with anything. Instead, the words stick in your throat.
I challenge you to try it some time. Come up here and kneel on this cushion, and speak aloud the sins that trouble you. The ones you think no one knows; the ones that make you feel so guilty. I guarantee you; it is not a pleasant experience.
But Jesus said, "He who humbles himself will be exalted." Speaking those words aloud at the altar, is basically a confession of sins. It is admitting that as the Lord says, we truly are poor, miserable sinners. We have simply demonstrated how this is so. But following hot on the heels of this confession comes the exaltation part, the absolution. "I forgive you."
"I forgive you."
Who would have ever thought? Lord, you heard what I just said. Aren't you going to give me a lecture? Aren't you going to tell me you're disappointed? I know I would be if I were you. Aren't you going to make me do something so I deserve your forgiveness?
Instead He says, "No, there is only thing I have to say to you, 'For the sake of Jesus Christ, I forgive you all your sins.'" The heavens are opened wide. Life is worth living again.
Could this announcement come from a voice in our head? You simply say it to yourself? I suppose. But if you are going to say it out loud, wouldn't it be better to be absolved aloud, that is forgiven by a voice that was also heard out loud? I have just described individual confession and absolution. And yes, Lutherans do this. That voice would be from a pastor who would also be up in the front with you.
I have described individual or private confession and absolution because what we do in the regular confession and absolution on Sunday morning is easy to fake. It doesn't mean it is fake. It is just as legitimate; the absolution just as effective because it is God's Word being spoken. The forgiveness is the same. But corporate confession is harder to take seriously. Do you think very much about what you are confessing when you are saying it with the whole congregation? Is the 10-15 seconds before we begin speaking enough time to say in your head the sins that bother you? I kind of doubt it.
But we have moved to the second part, to the exaltation, the absolution. The Lord speaks; He speaks to you. "I forgive you all your sins, for the sake of the sinless son of God." Isaiah, Peter and John were exalted. John was lifted to his feet. Isaiah had his lips purified. Peter was commissioned to be an ambassador, a spokesman for the Lord, which he would begin in earnest after he finished his seminary training. The Lord acknowledges what we have said and then lifts us up.
It becomes a one-man dialog, as the Lord does all the talking. "You feel low. You recognize your sin. It weighs you down. I've taken it already. I've paid the price. On the cross, I suffered for the very sin that is bringing you down. I was punished for what you do, what you think, what you say. There is nothing more to be done. Don't beat yourself up for it. Your suffering won't do anything but make you feel like you are doing something about it, but I've already done it. Look at your baptism. You were given my righteousness. I stand before you as your judge, and I see no sin. I don't see what is weighing you down, making you feel so guilty. I see you, instead, as perfectly holy because I see my Son. There is no condemnation for you. I forgive you now with a forgiveness that is as fresh as the first time you heard it at your baptism.
Notice a pattern? It's very simple. We confess our sins and then we are forgiven. We bow ourselves and then we are lifted up. We are humbled and then exalted. It's the same path our Lord took. He was humbled on the cross, but then He was exalted to the heavens. St. Paul writes to the Philippians: "And being found in human form, he humbled Himself by becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on Him the name that is above every name." We are brought low and then lifted high, even into the heavens themselves.
I could say "Amen" at this point and the thought would be complete, but we would miss learning something more about ourselves. We learn it by looking at the Pharisees. So, let's look at them.
Do you think those Pharisees would have understood this kind of forgiveness? Not possible. They were too full of themselves. They saw themselves as superior to Jesus. Bad attitude. Consider the attitude of Isaiah, Peter and John. These guys welcomed being lifted up. They felt low, then they were lifted high. The Pharisees, on the other hand, didn't think they needed it. They thought they were successfully keeping God's Law. They were already lifted high. They knew they weren't perfect, but they knew they were trying as hard as they could. It was more than they could say about Jesus, this preacher from Nazareth. They watch Jesus because they were sure He would break one of those laws-and then He did. Aha! We knew He was a fraud. The Messiah would never heal on a Sabbath. He would never do any kind of work.
Then Jesus trapped them. He asks them, "What if your ox or even your son fell into a well. Would you wait until the Sabbath was over before you did the work of pulling them out? Would you say, 'Oh darn. I'll guess I'll have to wait. I don't want to break the Sabbath?' Jesus knew their answer, but they didn't want to say anything, because they had been schooled. But would they confess it? Would they recognize that they had been following some made-up rules? Would they let Him be right, when they knew He was? Are you kidding? Not on your life! So here you have these pompous, self-righteous, religious leaders, who wouldn't be humbled even a little bit. Instead, they try to claim the highest seat next to God. They were legends in their own minds. Next to God, they were as righteous as you could get. Here they are, standing in the very presence of the Holy One, defending their self-righteousness.
Compare them to Isaiah, Peter and John. Isaiah, Peter, and John bow their heads and confess their guilt. The Pharisees puff out their chests and fill themselves with self-importance. Bowed heads. Puffed chests. Bowed head. Puffed chests. There is no comparison. How tragic. How utterly tragic. How could these religious leaders ever know the joy of forgiveness, when they never knew the sorrow of sin?
And that is the problem we all have, and why we can't know that joy completely. We'll admit we are sinners, but we aren't too wild about confessing the actual sins. We don't want to confess them because we are too busy showing God how well we are doing. "Look, God. Aren't I doing a good job? Look at what I do. I deserve a pretty good spot at the table. I deserve to be lifted up because I am trying so hard."
I've seen it in grade schools and summer camps. You probably have too. I know they do it at Lutheran Island Camp. The lunch table that is the quietest is dismissed first. As soon as it comes time to make the decision, you hear all these leaky tires. Shh, Shh, Shh. And then it is quiet. But what if you had one table that was confident they were really quiet. In fact, they were so sure they were the quietest table, they wanted to make sure they were recognized. "Hey, look at us. Let us go first. We're being quiet. We're being really quiet. Look at us. Look at us." They would make so much noise, they will never be dismissed.
Unfortunately, we do the exact same thing! "Look, Lord. Look at us. We are being humble. We are being pious. We are being obedient. Lift us up." Is it going to happen? How could it happen? How can we be lifted to a standing position when we are already standing, even on our tippy toes?
So, instead, let the Lord lead you. Follow His path. His path was the cross. He died. We die with Him when we hear His commands. We died, even now because He has spoken the crushing word of the law. But that's not the end. We have been raised to life, even now, with the word of life. The word of forgiveness. "For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted." It's as simple as this: when we know the depth, then we'll know the height. When we have been in the low, then He moves us up.
AMEN