Sermons

You look, and you live. You do not first understand, and then live. The teacher came carrying everything he knew and was handed two things he could do nothing with: a birth he could not perform and a cross he could only behold. And even the looking is not the last small work left to his credit — the eyes that turn to the lifted Son are opened by the same Spirit who blows where He wills, the birth of water and the Spirit, not of the will of the flesh, not of any man’s deciding. It is given the whole way down.

He is coming upon you, by His Spirit. He is drawing you with the net of His Word. And He is doing more than draw you — He is making His home in you.

He who scattered at Babel gathers here at Pentecost. He who divided the tongues there of evil, now unites them here for good. The same Spirit. The same fire. At Babel, God came down and scattered. At Pentecost, God came down to gather, and He gathered by preaching. Not by making the nations speak one language. By making the one Gospel spoken in every language. Every tongue heard the same thing: the Spirit gives you the peace Christ bought.

Take heart. He did not say try harder. He did not say believe more. He did not say feel something. He said take heart. Be of good cheer. Because — and this is the only because that holds — “I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). He has done it. It stands done. It will be done tomorrow morning, and the morning after that, and the morning your believing finally collapses entirely. The I that holds you is not yours.

The angels asked: Why do you stand gazing? He is not up there, away, unreachable. He fills all things. He is here — in His word, in His sacrament — as surely as He was on the mountain before the cloud came. The cloud did not remove Him. It revealed Him. As the One who sits at the right hand of the Father. As the One who, in that human nature, fills all things. As your Brother, enthroned.

Prayer in the name of Jesus is not a formula appended to a petition. It is a location. To pray in His name is to come to the Father as one who is in the Son — wrapped in the Son, carrying the Son’s own standing before the Father. You are not the poor man at the gate any longer. You are not approaching from outside, hoping to have moved Him. You are praying from inside the love the Father has for the Son. That is where the font placed you. That is where you stand.

Has the Name been put on you in the water? Then the claim has been made. It has not expired. The Lord is not waiting for you to perform your way back to him before he makes good on what he said when the water was poured.

The new commandment is a finished love. Christ made it on a cross. He gives it to you here in water and word and bread and wine. It is yours. The commandment and the gift are one. Faith and love are baked together like one loaf. Christ holds the one, and you hold the other, and there is no separating them. Christ went where you could not go, so that you could love as you have been loved.

This is the advantage. Not God near in the way you wanted. Better than that. The Spirit who convicts — your sin named and buried, Christ’s righteousness declared and given, the ruler’s judgment executed and delivered — doing his work here, in this service, for you.

The Father commanded the Son to suffer and enter His glory. The Son obeyed. The Father gave Him over for your trespasses and raised Him for your justification. Christ was raised by the Father, and that resurrection is the Father’s seal on every word the Son ever spoke. The empty tomb says: this Word is true. This commandment is life. The grave could not hold the One who carried the Father’s commandment, and the grave will not hold those to whom He has spoken it.