Saint Athanasius Lutheran Church

40 days and 40 nights. Actually, that sounds pretty good if you're Israel in the wilderness. They would have taken that in a heartbeat! What they got instead was 40 years. That's not how God planned it, of course. Of the twelve spies they sent into Canaan, to spy it out, to see how they might go in, ten of the twelve told them not to go. So the people, filled with fear and trebling, rebelled. They forgot the mighty deeds God had done to bring them out of Egypt. So, God decided, 40 years.

What if I were to burst into a house and start tearing it apart as Jesus did? Well, it depends on whose house it is! Unless... it's MY house! Then I can do whatever I want to it. So when Jesus goes into the Temple that day, and begins overturning tables and driving out the animals, some thought He had not right to do so. But they were wrong. The Temple was God's house and so Jesus' house! The key to this reading is not what Jesus DID, but who Jesus IS.

For 40 days and 40 nights Moses was on Mount Sinai. For 40 days and 40 nights the presence of the Lord and the glory of the Lord appeared like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain. For 40 days and 40 nights Moses was in the presence of God, in the cloud, listening. God had much to say. God spoke both Law and Gospel to Moses. Words of life.

Who do people say that I am? But who do you say that I am? I think that is usually the contrast that catches the attention of most people from the Holy Gospel that we heard this morning. The difference between what the crowds are saying about Jesus and what the disciples are confessing about Jesus. But I wonder if that's really the right contrast for us to consider today, and especially in this season of Lent. Perhaps better for us to think about today is a different contrast we heard -- the contrast between the two statements of Peter.

For 40 days and 40 nights the rains fell upon the earth. 40 days of death so that there could be new life. 40 days is a long time for us. If you're like me, it's hard to keep up your Lenten discipline for 40 days. Because like the earth in Noah's day, the sin of Adam and Eve has metastasized in me. I am the one who needs cleansing. Now, we are still in the ark -- the ark of the Church. The cleansing water of God's new flood now cleansing one sinner at a time.

God has a funny way of showing His love. One that might cause us to ask -- Uh, God, do you love me? This season of Lent is about struggle. Our struggle against sin. Our struggle against satan and his temptations. Abraham and his struggle was unique. But what does God want you to do? And what do you not want to do? Where is the struggle in your own life? Maybe that's exactly where God is being merciful and loving to you. Causing you to struggle where you need it the most.

This is who you are (pointing to ash cross on my forehead). You are a Christian, marked with the sign of the cross in your baptism. But you are a dying Christian, a dust and ashes Christian, because you are a sinner. And the wages of sin is death. So unless Jesus returns first, you are going to die. People don't usually want to talk about that. We don't want to die, because we were not created to die. But, you see, that's the good news! We're dying Christians. And as Christians, we can face death with confidence.

Rabbi, it is good that we are here. That may be the understatement of the year! It is good to be here, with Jesus, in His glory. So Peter wants to stay. And notice... Jesus does not rebuke Peter. Yes! Peter got it right! Well... partially. You want to stay here, you want to be with Jesus in His glory, listen to Him. He will tell you, He will teach you, He will show you, how.

It is said of great athletes -- truly great athletes -- that they have not only exceptional talents and abilities, but they also make others around them better. St. Paul in the Epistle today mentioned athletes and competing. He says that Christians should be like that -- and even more! For we're not competing for a perishable wreath, or crown, or to make a name for ourself today that will be forgotten tomorrow. Our crown, our name, as Christians, is eternal. So we should live that way! But... what does that mean?

Sometimes people can surprise you. Someone you thought was mean might do something nice. Or someone you thought nice suddenly does something really mean. And so it was that day in the synagogue in Capernaum. He looked like a regular teacher, but He surprised them. He wasn't. They were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one who had authority, and not as the scribes -- not as the ones who usually taught them.

Fishers of men, huh? Here's what my question would have been. Which men? 'Cuz don't send me to Nineveh, like you did Jonah! No way! Not those men! I'll fish for men, but not in that sea! 'Cuz that's what we do, isn't it? We pick and choose. This person is worth it, that person is not. But that's not how Jesus does things. Not how He thinks. So Jonah was sent to the Ninevites. And now He was going to do that for Simon, Andrew, James, and John. Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men. All men.

It started the same. It ended very, very different. People from all over were coming to John to be baptized. And just another man from Galilee, coming up out of the Jordan, after being baptized, was no big deal. Until it was. For then, it was seen and heard that this was, in fact, no ordinary man from Galilee. For on no other did the Spirit descend like a dove. For no other did the voice of the Father ring down from heaven, saying, You are my beloved Son. With you I am well pleased.

Arise! Isaiah says. And the Wise Men did. They arose, they got up from their homes and went to Jerusalem. Then guided by the Scriptures they went to Bethlehem. And guided by the star, they found the one they were looking for. A child. The one born king of the Jews. They are a treasured part of the Christmas story, the visit of these men from the East. Arise! And they did. But I wonder, how hard those first steps were...

If your neighborhood is like mine, there have been lots of Christmas decorations lighting up the night these past few weeks. And if your neighborhood is like mine, then among those decorations have been some rather large inflatable figures. And if your neighborhood is like mine, those figures now lie dead on the ground, all the air, all the spirit, taken out of them. But if you had been in Jerusalem, right after that first Christmas, you would have seen the exact opposite happening! On that day, not a great deflating, but a great inflating took place!

The Word became flesh. The eternal God was born a man. Perfect God and perfect man in one person. Born to Joseph, born of Mary, in the little town of Bethlehem. He was given the name Jesus, the name chosen not by His earthly father or mother, but by His true Father, His heavenly Father. For the Word becoming flesh was not a lowering of God, but an exalting of man. An exalting by our God who is full of grace and truth.

There was about to be a war. One enemy would have been enough, but now two had joined forces. The future was uncertain and seemed gloomy indeed. These were dark days. So the Lord sent his prophet, Isaiah, to the king, King Ahaz, to say to him -- do not be afraid. They will not win. And this is the sign the Lord will give you of this -- the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel. Immanuel, which means, God with us.

It just didn't seem right. God's house was a tent. It was a nice tent, to be sure. A special tent, not like the ones we sleep in and take camping. But it was still a tent. And that just didn't seem right to David. So as we heard in the Old Testament reading, David, bless his heart, says -- I'm going to fix this! I'm going to build God a house. There was only one who disagreed. And it turns out, the only one that mattered. God Himself.

It's always darkest before the dawn, as the saying goes. Which is what Scripture tells us, too. That this world is not progressing toward utopia. This world is not getting better. But as we have been thinking about this Advent season, into this darkness God has shined His light. The light of His love. The light of His promise to give life to a dying creation. And this light, though it be but a small flicker of light, scatters the darkness and brings hope.

It's now just about a week until Christmas. You might have your tree up already, and maybe there is even a gift already under it waiting to be opened in a week. But what if it doesn't have a tag? Then you have a problem. Then you have to try to figure it out. Investigate. Well, I submit to you today that's exactly what the Pharisees were doing with John, when they sent some folks to find out. What is it and who is it from? For John was a very popular gift.

Last week, we considered that the light of creation revealed not a perfectly ordered creation, but one that was formless and void. But that God, by His Word, brought order to His creation, and it was good. Until, that is, man brought darkness and disorder back again. But a good and gracious and lovingly persistent God could not, would not, stand idly by, but shone His light into the darkness again, with the light of a promise. And tonight, our focus is on that promise fulfilled.