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Sermon 16
Soar
Like a Falcon Jeremiah
1:8 January
28, 2007 Sisters and brothers in Christ, grace and peace to
you in the name of God the Father , Son (X)
and Holy Spirit. Amen. God
wants you to be strong and fly like a falcon – soaring high in
the sky. This image of the falcon is Luther’s. In his
commentary on Psalm 118 from 1530 he writes: “Let everyone
become a falcon and soar above distress” (Luther’s
Works 14:60). But
even though this image of the soaring falcon is Luther’s, the
idea of it is from the Bible. This note of fearlessness and
buoyancy is sounded throughout Holy Scriptures. And so God tells
the prophet Jeremiah: “Be not afraid, for I am with you to
deliver you” (Jeremiah 1:8). And to Joshua, the son of Nun,
God says the same: “Be strong and of good courage; be not
frightened, neither be dismayed” (Joshua 1:9). And Jesus tells
his disciples: “Fear not, little flock, for it is your
Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke
12:32). And under threats from the devil himself, St. Peter
writes: “Resist him, firm in your faith” (1 Peter 5:9)! Jeremiah’s
Fears
Now why does God admonish us so? Why does he tell
Jeremiah, for instance, to quit being afraid? What was the
mighty Jeremiah afraid of in the first place? He was favored by
God before he was even born (Jeremiah 1:5). God had elected him
to be one of his greatest prophets ever. So surely he was safe
and secure – protected by God himself. Why then was he told
not to fear? Well,
quite simply, because he was afraid – contrary to what we’ve
imagined. This protected one of God was actually frightened too.
And this was because God had sent him to speak out against
nations and kingdoms. And he gave him hard words to speak –
words about plucking up and breaking down, destroying and
overthrowing (Jeremiah 1:10). And even though God had promised
to protect him, Jeremiah was still afraid – supposing some
sort of attack was inevitable, given his distressing message. Being
Yelled At
So Jeremiah believed he had good reason to be afraid.
Spouting off those four verbs of destruction would surely enrage
the people he was sent to warn. They would yell back at him! And
who likes that? They might even “grind their teeth” at him,
as others generations later would do against Stephen (Acts
7:54). In the face of such anger, it’s indeed natural to be
frightened.
And the anger also is predictable. For God’s words
offend us (Isaiah 30:9-11; Matthew 11:6). This is because these
words of liberation have restraints built into them. They cut
off as well as comfort. They include the Law with the Gospel
(Jeremiah 1:10; Isaiah 45:7; John 12:25; Romans 6:4). And
so God’s words go against the grain, or contra
naturam, as the old Latin Bible has it (Romans 11:24). They
attack our sense of self-worth (Luke 17:10) and inflated
self-importance. This is because “God abhors the confidence we
have [in] ourselves,” and demands that we be “humbled to the
utmost” (LW 3:4,
348). Because
these psychological constructs are so shaky from the start,
having been built on mere sand, when they teeter, even in the
slightest, we panic. And so we quickly dig-in and erupt in anger
to scare off the assailing Word and its messengers. “How dare
you!” we cry. “Let us burst their bonds asunder, and cast
their cords from us” (Psalm 2:3). The great poet, William
Blake (1757-1827), gave this indignation a classic rendition [Blake:
Complete Writings, ed. G. Keynes
( And
Priests in black gowns were
walking their rounds, And
binding with briars my
joys and desires. Being
Lonely
But Jeremiah had even more to fear than all this
anger and yelling. Because he brought such hard words from God,
his flock itself was set-up to go against him. They could turn
their backs on him, isolate and ignore him. They could throw him
into the dungeon of loneliness and shame. With their rejection
they could petrify him. Such
unpopularity is a hazard for God’s teachers and disseminators
of his holy Word. Whenever that Word is advanced, loneliness and
isolation follow quickly. So it’s right to say that “a
confessional Lutheran often becomes a ‘lonely Lutheran’”
[Robert D. Preus, “Dr. Herman A. Preus: In Memoriam,” Logia
4 (Reformation 1995) p. 57]. For with Luther we are driven to
say that the “world is below me, and heaven is above me. I
hover between the life of the world and eternal life, lonely in
the faith” (LW 14:181). This
is exactly what God’s hard words do to us. It’s the cost we
pay for witnessing to them. “I sat alone,” Jeremiah says,
“because your hand, O God, was upon me” (Jeremiah 15:17). We
fear nothing more than this sitting alone. Being unpopular seems
to be a fate worst than death. And so we’ll do almost anything
to rid ourselves of it. But against this fear of unpopularity,
God tells us to dig in. Be courageous and tough, he says.
Don’t be simpering. Being
Snookered
But that’s not the end of it either. Our fear
carries us still further. And we find ourselves fearing the
sophisticated. We fear those who, with kindness and composure,
criticize our faith in God. We fear we’ll cave in to what they
say. We fear we’ll give up on the Word of God. We fear we’ll
be talked out of pressing God’s hard words on sinners. We fear
we’ll be seduced into unbelief. Ever
since the snake in the Garden of Eden talked Eve out of
following God (Genesis 3:1-6; 1 Timothy 2:14), we have feared
those who question us. We fear being lead astray by their
interrogations. We fear being snookered. And so we crawl into a
hole and won’t argue with those who want to debate
Christianity with us. We cower before the prospect of
contestation (contra
Jude 1:3). We lose our nerve in the heat of disputation. Going
Against Timidity
But this is not as it should be. Losing our nerve
like this is based on mixed-up thinking. We are supposed to fear
God rather than people. In fact our fear of God itself is
supposed to see to it that we do this. So when you fear God
you’re not “merely to fall upon your knees” before him,
but you’re also to fear “no one” except him alone (LW 51:139). For fearing God is to change our lives! So
God won’t settle for our lack of nerve. He barges in and
fights for us – against us and our fears. 2 Timothy 1:7 says
that God replaces our timidity with “a spirit of power and
love and self-control.” Ephesians 3:12 says that this spirit
is what gives us our “boldness.” So we’re not to be done
in by our distress, agony, fear and suffering. Therefore when
darkness descends, do
not sit by yourself or lie on a couch, hanging and shaking your
head…. Do not… brood on your wretchedness, suffering, and
misery. Say to yourself: “Come on, you lazy bum [du
fauler schelm]; down on your knees, and lift your eyes and
hands toward heaven!” Read a pslam or the Our Father, call on
God, and tearfully lay your troubles before Him. Mourn and
pray…. God wills that you lay your troubles before Him…. He
wants you to grow strong in Him…. Otherwise men are mere
babblers [eitel plauderer]
(LW 14:61). In
the book of Acts, those preaching in the early church were
filled with just this sort of boldness. They didn’t succumb to
their misery. They weren’t fauler schelm and eitel
plauderer. So neither should we be now. A prime example of
this boldness is Christ Our Torch Now the Holy Spirit is still at work to make us
“defiant and courageous,” like But
if they “tread on Christ or on His Word,” then we must shift
gears and become “stubborn and impetuous hotheads,” glad to
be called “stiff-necked…. and headstrong asses” (LW
23:330). This is because true disciples of Jesus are “bold and
reckless” (LW
23:399). For when Christ is under attack we must not yield “a
hairbreadth to anyone” (LW
26:99, 44:93). Christ is Our Honor But how are we to manage this? How can we be so
strict? How can we tow the line? Now we can proceed
methodically, but sooner than we think, we fail. We can get off
on the right foot, but before we know it, we fall flat. So we
need something more if we’re going to advance at all. And
since we fail on our own, we need help from outside ourselves.
We need power from beyond us. Luke
4:32 says that Jesus spoke with authority. The old Latin Bible
translates this as in
potestate. Now that’s exactly what we need – power from
beyond ourselves. In
potestate! But how does Jesus manage that? Well, his power
for us is there in his obedience to God. As unlikely as that may
sound, that’s precisely where his power for us resides. When
faced with the worst predicament, he displays his incredible
will and personal force. When faced with a gruesome death, he
does not back down. Instead, he is “obedient unto death, even
death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8). In
his crucifixion he drains sin of its power over us. This is
what’s so powerful about his dying. He does this by having all
the sins of the world nailed into his body (1 Peter 2:24). This,
of course, takes great internal fortitude. And in this dying we
see the very power of God for us (1 Corinthians 1:24). For he
could have aborted his crucifixion. He could have come down from
the cross before he died. Three times the scoffers ordered him
down from the cross. “Save yourself,” they jeered at him as
he was dying on the cross (Luke 23:35-39). But Jesus holds firm
– refusing to flee from The Last Temptation of Christ Nikos Kazantzakis calls these taunts and jeers
against Jesus his last temptation – coming from the devil who
is finally striking him at the most vulnerable time (Luke 4:13).
In his novel he has the devil lure Jesus down from the cross
with these words: “Great joys await you… God left me free to
allow you to taste all the pleasures you ever secretly longed
for. Beloved, the earth is good – you’ll see. Wine,
laughter, the lips of a woman, the gambols of your first son on
your knees – all are good” [The Last Temptation
of Christ (1960) p. 446]. But Jesus doesn’t budge. His face is set
like flint to go to his death in In
Christ’s death he frees all who believe in him from their
guilt. This forgiveness of sins is our freedom. And in this
freedom we have the power we need to walk fearlessly. Now his
potency becomes our potency. Because of Christ we no longer
“need praise and honor among men.” Now he is “our Honor
and Glory” (LW 13:354)! Having these come from Christ, which are outside of
ourselves [extra nos],
they make us strong and “mettlesome” [animosos]
[The Book of Concord,
ed. T. Tappert (1580, 1959) p. 553]. This is because when the
source is outside of us and in Christ, then our discipleship is
based on the “denial of ourselves,” which draws us close to
him and to his power (Luke 9:23). So when the guilt and shame
that we have for our rebellion and disobedience weighs us down,
fear not. Though your hearts condemn you, “God is greater”
(1 John 3:20; James 2:13). Our Bag of Guilt Such dependence does not weaken us. It instead
miraculously enable us to do far more than we would ever think.
We find ourselves wonderfully going beyond our own capacities.
Even so we take no credit for any of this, but give all the
glory to God from whom it all comes in the first place (1
Corinthians 10:31). But
our unresolved guilt can still block all of this from happening.
Supposing that guilt isn’t a serious problem underestimates
our own weakness. For our unresolved guilt deeply damages us.
Robert Bly calls it a heavy black bag that we drag along behind
us wherever we go. The result of this is that the “bigger the
bag, the less the energy” [A
Little Book on the Human Shadow, ed. W. Booth (1988) p. 25].
Dragging this bag around with us, then, drags us down, draining
us of vital energy (contra
John 1:12-13). It robs us of the promised “abundant” life in
Christ (John 10:10). So
the forgiveness of sins isn’t at all puny. It’s rather quite
massive and filled with delight. It’s true that it requires us
to repent and muck around in our shame for a while (1 John 1:9),
but it doesn’t end there. It ends instead with absolution and
new life through the forgiveness of sins (Romans 6:4). So
there’s no need to “invent a special absolution for
yourself…. God does not want us to go astray in our own
self-chosen works or speculation” (LW
6:128). Only God’s forgiveness can free us (John 8:34-36). In
this freedom we acquire the “pitch of peace and poise” we
need to rise above our distress and suffering and fear (LW
44:77). Oscillating & Fragmented Even
though this divine absolution gives us power to “disdain”
all misery and shame, and sets us “against all power,”
thereby turning us into knights and heroes (LW
24:21), we still, even so, aren’t perfect (Philippians 3:12).
And we won’t be until we reach heaven after we die. Our life
with God now remains a “militant piety,” and not one of
triumph (Kierkegaard’s
Writings 22:130).
In our imperfection we experience oscillation and
fragmentation [Paul Tillich, Systematic Theology, 3 vols (1951-1963) 3:42, 140]. They mark our
life with God. First, then, our devotion to God oscillates. That
means some days we’re closer to God than others are. We have
our ups and downs. Sin, now and then, has its way with us –
like it did with David, Job, Jonah and Peter. And so we too must
say, “I believe, help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24).
In addition, even our good days are fragmented, fractured
and marred. That’s are second mark of imperfection. For when
we’re praying as we should, we often lack the required
humility, tenacity and clarity (Matthew 6:7; Romans 8:26; Luke
18:1, 11-12). And when we’re helping others, we still think
too much of ourselves (Luke 10:40). And when we have the right
plan in mind, we often fail to follow through (Romans 7:22-23;
Matthew 21:30).
What this means is that with all of our acquired
spiritual power and strength, we must never trust in ourselves
(Luke 18:9). We must recognize instead that we can do nothing
without God (2 Corinthians 3:4-5; John 15:5; Ephesians 2:8-9). Food Indeed So
rejoice in Christ and the mercy he brings us. Thank God for his
goodness in sending us his Son to save us. And receive him this
day in the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. Come to the Altar
of the Lord and bow down. Know that when you eat of the bread
and drink from the cup, Christ is truly there to be physically
received. He is “in, with, and under” the bread and the
wine, consecrated by the very words of our Lord Jesus Christ (BC,
p. 575). When you receive him, he promises to “abide” in you
that you might “abide” in him and be enriched by his
communion with you (John 6:56).
So this sacrament is for nourishment – therefore we
call it “food indeed” (John 6:55). It nourishes our faith
that it may “increase,” just as we would want (Luke 17:5).
For when you receive it and hear the Lord’s words that his
body and blood have been given “for you” (1 Corinthians
11:24), you know you haven’t been skipped over because of your
sin and unrighteousness. This reassurance is just what enhances
our faith in Christ. No wonder these two words, “for you,”
are the “chief thing” in this “most venerable sacrament”
(BC, pp. 352, 577). So
eat and then soar like a falcon! Love Rejoices in the Good But
faith without works is dead (James 2:26), and so we will leave
worship today with good works on our mind. And what good work
shall we do? God expects us to love because he first loved us (1
John 4:19). So let us rededicate ourselves to being loving
people. And
what will this entail? 1 Corinthians 13:7 famously says that
true love “bears all things.” This means that our love is
resilient and is not frighten off by bad behavior. When the
people we love show no gratitude for our caring, we just keep on
loving, even in this bad weather. So when your mother or father,
children, husband or wife, neighbors or fellow workers hurt your
feelings, keep on loving anyway. For love doesn’t require
sunny days to shine, it rather clears the clouds away on it’s
own. That’s what love does. But
true love still does even more than that. It also refuses to
rejoice in the wrong (1 Corinthians 13:6). So don’t you
rejoice in the wrong done by the people you love. Help your
friend, by all means, if she comes home drunk and sick to her
stomach. Even clean up the mess! But don’t tell her you like
seeing her incapacitated. No! For love doesn’t rejoice in
wrongdoing. Rather show kindness and then bring corrections and
suggestions to bear – and even admonitions and rebukes, if
need be (Luke 17:3; Titus 2:15). Then
call on God to bless you, that you might love with kindness and
correction as you ought (see Thomas C. Oden, Corrective
Love, 1995). May he grant you wisdom (Hebrews 5:12-14; Galatians
6:7; 1 Thessalonians 5:21; 1 John 4:1). And may he also grant
you compassion so that your love does no harm – harm caused by
rejoicing in the wrong (Romans 13:10). Amen. (printed as preached but with some changes) |
