Generally, a child feels safe when he is with his parents. This is the time of the year when this is put to the test the most. For the last several weeks, children have been left at daycares and preschools for the first time and we see what is called separation anxiety. Children don't know it as that, they just know mommy or daddy is leaving them, and they fear they may never see them again. As long as his parents are around, though, and he knows they are aware of him, it doesn't matter what is happening. He feels safe.

As he grows older, he becomes more independent. He becomes more aware of what is happening. It takes more than just simply being there. Older yet, and independence has grown further. Now, he is going to have to be responsible for his own safety, and as the course of events goes, responsible for the safety of his family.

That's the way it is. We have people in those stages right now. I can see some children who feel safe, simply because mommy or daddy is there with them. I can see some others who are a little more aware, and more who are moving into that stage of being responsible for their own safety.

Wouldn't we consider it really strange if children, as they grew older, became more dependent on their parents? Imagine a grown man or woman curling up in their mother's lap, trying to tuck their legs under them and saying, "Keep me safe, mommy." This would be really weird. Mommy would be very worried--and should be.

But this is exactly what Christian maturity is all about. It's all about dependence.

Let's start with answering the question: What is faith? We can go with the classic definition in Hebrews. "Now, faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." Things hoped for. Things not seen. Like promises. We hope in promises. The Lord gives us promises and we hope for them--more than that, we trust them to be true.

Promises aren't always things in the future though. Promises can be in things we don't see, but are already happening. Back to our parents again. As a child gets older, words and hugs may not mean as much as they once did. A parent may have to say, "Everything is fine. I have taken care of everything." But an older child still may not be put at ease. "Trust me. You have what you need." That's not future. That's what's happening right now.

That's what our Lord does. He promises He will take care of you and is already taking care of you, despite what may seem to be happening to you. As you trust His promises, you have indications of your faith growing--not that you would stop to look at it, but that's another matter. Faith is taking Him at His Word. It is relying on Him. Relying on Him to take care of you.

Consider the analogy I have used several times before. A child crossing a busy street, is not a hero when he trusts his parents to get him across the street. Instead, the child is a fool if he doesn't see his weaknesses. He would be a fool to try to make it on his own if he's not able to do it. The child is dependent on his parents. He knows he can't do it. So he is dependent on them to get him across.

I know this sounds too simple, but even so, we can say it this way: faith is dependence. It is relying on God for what He has to give. Relying on Him, and looking to Him for whatever we need. Dependence. It's crawling into His arms, and just as we as a congregation have been praying this week, asking Him as the last line goes in the introduction to the Lord's Prayer--let me hear you--as...dear...children ask their dear Father.

Now, we could never dream of crawling into His arms, if it were not for Jesus. Had Jesus not lived a perfect life and died the death we deserved, we could never even approach Him. But instead, as we are climbing into His arms, we cry out to Him, like beggars, "Lord, have mercy."

At the most basic level we see our helplessness when it comes to our salvation. Only a fool would think a holy God would accept us because we try hard. First, we don't try that hard. If we did, then we would be sure to see it would not be enough. The only ones who think God accepts them because they try hard are the ones who don't really try at all. The more a person tries, the more they see they are a sinner. If you think you are forgiven, because you try hard to be a good Christian, think again. I'll say that in a different way. If you think, because you are a good Christian or at least try to be a good Christian, you are going to be forgiven, then you aren't even a Christian, or at least that is not Christian thinking.

A Christian is a beggar, crying out to the Lord, "Lord, have mercy," and then seeing Jesus on the cross is that mercy. This is the beginning of dependence--and the end of it. This is begging from the lap of our Father.

Now, you might say, "But Pastor, children aren't beggars. My children aren't beggars. I give them what they need, because I love them."

Yes, this is true. We are His children, by virtue of His claim on us in our baptism. He's the one who decided. He has made us His children, but we see in ourselves an ugly streak that would hurt our heavenly Father. While we're reclining in His arms, we notice awful thoughts coming into our mind. It's not all peace and pious thoughts.

We come to the Lord's table. He gives us His body and blood, and no sooner are we back and our mind has drifted into thoughts we would be ashamed to admit. We might even do it while we are up there. If it weren't for Jesus' righteousness that covers us, we would corrupt the very halls of heaven. And so, at the same time we are children, we are also beggars, crying out for mercy--mercy we know we don't deserve--but mercy we know He loves to give, because He loves us.

The Divine Service demonstrates this beautifully. After the Introit--the Psalm we read responsively by half verse--we sang the Kyrie, "Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy." That's when we are beggars. We are like people on the side of the road, as a king passes by. We beg for His favor and for favors. He is coming to us, and we know He has rich gifts He is more than willing to give.

Immediately after that, though, we sing the Hymn of Praise, the hymn the angels sang when Jesus was born. As we sing this, our attention is no longer on being beggars on the side of the road, now we are in heaven, singing the angels' song. As we sing it, we are drawn to see we are citizens of heaven, because we are God's children. The placement of these ancient hymns right next to each other, makes this clear. We are beggars. We are children.

As a congregation, several of us have been struggling for years with the length of the service. We see other congregations who shorten their service and want to do the same. I notice, though, this is almost always what they cut out. The hymn of praise, the song of the angels is dropped. If we were to do what they do, we would miss this glorious statement of what we are. We are beggars and we are children. We cry out for mercy and then see we have already been given mercy in Christ because we are considered holy ones, worthy to come into the presence of the Lord with the angels.

The beggars we are, crying out for mercy, is made clear by our Lord with the words He says in our text to us today. "No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money."

Here we are, wanting to climb up into our heavenly Father's arms, and then we see this ugly streak. We find we are devoted to money. "Oh, Lord, have mercy."

Now it might be that some are more money hungry than we are, or so we think, but we aren't worried about them, are we? Instead, take away OUR income, and what happens to US? We get tense. We get nervous. How am I going to make it?

Our Lord tells us this very day that life is more than food and the body is more than clothing, but we still get tense if it's not there. If we should be asked to go with a little less, we react violently. "I can't afford it." Yet, our Father, says, "Do not be anxious, saying, 'What shall we eat?' Or 'what shall we wear?' For your heavenly Father knows you need them all." He's our heavenly Father. He knows we need these, and therefore will supply what we need. Trust Him, but we have so much trouble with it. So often, we fear the worst.

I can remember visiting with Pr. Senkbeil at Doxology this summer and him telling me this very thing. For those of you who don't know who he is, he was once a pastor here at Zion, and after retiring as a seminary professor, he started up a program of enrichment for pastors and congregations, called Doxology. It's called Doxology so congregations and pastors can properly praise God, which is what Doxology as a word is about. It's starts with recognizing our Father as our Father who loves His children. Anyway, I spoke to him about my family situation and some of the things happening here at Zion, and he would say to me, "Don't borrow trouble, Rob."

I had never heard the phrase before but recognized it came from the last verse of our text, "Sufficient for the day is its own trouble." And then it hit me, "Don't borrow trouble from the next day." Don't worry about what will come tomorrow. Plan for it, but don't worry about it. Worry is a sign of a lack of faith. And I was showing that lack. "Don't borrow trouble, Rob." They were good words.

It's what our Lord says to us, now. "Don't borrow trouble. Don't worry about tomorrow." Your Father knows what you need. He will provide. We can plan for tomorrow, but we can't worry.

Worry is a type of meditation. It is meditating on the "what ifs," as though our Father didn't know what we needed. "What if this happens?" or "What if that happens?" What does He say? "I know what you need. I'll take care of you." But we still have trouble. Maybe not right now, but the time has been here and will come again when it will get too close, and we'll be questioning our Father if He really will take care of us.

That's when we do what I spent the first ten minutes of the sermon talking about. We go back to being His child. What did we say was growing in faith? Growing in dependence. It is climbing into our Father's arms, and saying, "Take care of me." It starts by begging for His mercy knowing that we have, once again, shown our ingratitude and lack of faith, and then seeing what He has provided for us--His own Son. Through His Son's payment on the cross, peace has been made between us sinners and a holy God. Now, no longer just a holy God, He has declared us beggars holy and even made us His children. We now see Him as our Father. It's going back to the combination of the Kyrie and the Gloria in Excelsis, being beggars and then seeing ourselves as He see us, His children--and never leaving that combination.

He even provides the sign of His commitment to being your Father, by giving you the very body and blood which bought the peace in the first place. The Son He gave up, puts His body broken and His blood shed, here as a token that He is truly your Father and will not forget about you and your needs.

In case you were wondering where Jesus is saying, "Go back to being His child," it's in His words, "Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness." This is His kingdom--God's gracious reign as your Father. This is His righteousness--Christ's holiness counted to us so we may be His children. It's going back to the Gospel, the Gospel that says, "I am your heavenly Father because of Jesus' payment on the cross. As a result, I will treat you as my dear child. I will provide all you need."

You see, the closer we get to Him, the less we will rely on ourselves, and the more helpless we will see we truly are. As we do, we can rest calmly in His arms, feeling safe just like a child in his parents' arms."

AMEN