Text: Mark 11:1-10
Grace and Peace to you from
God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Over the last several weeks
we have been hearing scripture passages that point us forward to the second
coming of Christ, when Christ will come again at the end of the age. These texts have called us to be ready for
this second coming, to be alert, and to be awake. These texts create anticipation in us.
Today though, we begin a new
church year as we celebrate the first Sunday in Advent. Now, keep in mind that the word ‘Advent’
means coming. Thus, with the first
Sunday in Advent, we are shifting gears a bit from anticipating and looking
forward, to the theme of Jesus actually ‘coming’ to us.
In thinking about this theme
of ‘coming,’ we must also make note that the coming of the Lord is a very
prevalent theme in the all of the scriptures.
For example, ever since Adam and Eve fell into sin in the Garden of
Eden, the Lord promised them that salvation would come to mankind through one
who would crush the head of the Evil One.
Therefore, the people of the Old Testament lived in anticipation as they
awaited the coming of the Messiah. With
that said, how did the Messiah come to the people of the Old Testament? He came to them in a manger, in the small
town of Bethlehem.
Like the people of the Old
Testament, today we remember in our Advent services this same coming of Jesus
in the manger, for this coming was not only a coming of the Messiah to the
people of the Old Testament, but a coming of the Messiah for the whole entire
world.
Furthermore, during this
Advent Season we not only recall that Jesus came some two-thousand years ago,
but we remember and confess that He will come to us at the end of the age to
resurrect us. Therefore, we live in
between these two book ends: His first coming in a manger and His second coming
in glory to judge the living and the dead.
All of this said, there is
another aspect that we are forgetting, and that is, the Lord continually comes
to us in the here and now through His Word and Sacraments. That’s right, we have a Lord that came to us,
presently comes to us, and will come to us again. Indeed, we have an active Lord; a Lord that
invades history, time, and space.
Understanding that we have a
Lord that comes to us, it now makes sense why the Gospel reading for us today
is on Jesus riding on a donkey towards Jerusalem. You see, as Christ rode on the donkey, He was
riding and coming towards us. Permit me
to explain a bit more.
Two-thousand years ago Jesus
Christ approached your sin in His birth and He approached your sin on the
donkey as He rode into Jerusalem towards Calvary’s Cross. Yes, at the cross there was a holy collision
as Jesus came towards our sin, sin that resulted in His death—a death that
should have been for you and for me. Indeed,
Jesus came towards our cross and encountered our sin, bore it upon Himself, was
forsaken by the Father, endured hell, and then said, “It… Is... Finished!”
Truly, we have a coming
Messiah. He came to us in the manger,
came to us on a donkey to the cross, will come again to us in the second
coming, and comes to us here in this church through His Word and Sacraments
because He is for you and is for me.
Simply stated, the arrow is
from the Lord to us.
Tragically the temptation
for you and for me is that we can lose sight of this coming Lord. We can invert the arrow, believing the myth
that the arrow goes from us to the Lord.
Otherwise stated, we can begin to believe the error that we must come to
Him. As a result, we begin to believe
that we have to construct metaphoric ladders between us and the Lord, so that
we can industriously ascend up each step of the ladder closer and closer to the
Lord. (I call this ladder theology) Whether we disbelieve the good news that the
Lord comes to us or if we stubbornly want to be involved in drawing near to the
Lord by our own efforts, the result is the same: we invert everything. Yes, instead of seeing the Lord as one coming
to us, we begin to convince ourselves that we must ascend to the Lord in order
to draw closer to Him so that we can be whole.
One of the ways that we do
this is that climb our metaphoric ladder to God through developing, increasing,
and perfecting our morals and standards.
We believe that if we become more moral, it will allow us to ascend a
little higher. We tell ourselves, “Every
good deed draws me that much closer to the good Lord.”[1]
Another way we attempt to
climb to the Lord is that we chase meaningless spiritual experiences. We tell ourselves that if we can just woo our
emotions or conjure up spiritualized feelings to make our hearts tingle with mystical
feelings that we are somehow closer to the Lord. We tell ourselves, “If I can experience and
feel God, then I must be close to Him.
The more I feel spiritized feeling, the higher I must be.”[2]
Finally, but not least, we
can attempt to draw close to the Lord through the pursuit of reflective rationale
and being thoughtful of philosophical logic.
We tell ourselves that the key to drawing closer to the Lord is through
intellectualizing God and logically figuring Him out. We tell ourselves, “The more that God can be
reasoned in our mind, the closer we must be to Him.” [3]
Tragically, “All three of
these conventional approaches to spirituality involve human beings’ expending
strenuous effort to reach God, who is, by implication, an impassive observer,
far above the fray, a goal that must be attained, a treasure that must be
sought, discovered and earned.”[4]
Alas, this way of thinking
is damning and futile at best.
Frankly put, if it is up to
us to storm heaven’s gates and if it is up to us to come to the Lord, how will
we know if we have an adequate amount of morality? How will we know if our mystical experience
is genuine enough? How will we know if
our reason is enlightened enough? In
looking at this ladder spirituality—this idea that you and I must climb to God
in order to come to Him—you and I will never, I repeat, never have enough assurance. If it depends on our climbing, how high do we
have to climb and what happens when we slip, for we surely will?
Dear friends, if you are
attempting to climb to the Lord, if you are attempting to come to the Lord
through your own moral, mystical, and/or intellectual schemes, please listen:
Repent, there is no ladder.
Repent, you cannot climb.
Repent, the arrow is not from you to the Lord, but from the Lord to you.
Repent, for you cannot by your own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ or come to Him.[5]
You may be saying to
yourself now,
“That makes sense Pastor, we do not climb to God but He
comes to us. However, how is that a good
thing? For I know deep down inside of
me, that I am full of sin. I also sin in
thought, word, and deed. So how is this
good that the Lord comes to us and invades my world of sin and failure? In fact, the more I think about the Lord
coming to me, the less I want to climb and the more I want to run and hide. Yes, I want to run and hide like Adam and Eve
did when the Lord came to them after they sinned. It is terrible to be in the hands of an angry
God.”
Baptized Saints, take a moment and consider our Gospel reading for today. The Lord came to Jerusalem humble and on a donkey. He also wept over rebellious Jerusalem. Furthermore, consider this Advent Season: He came to us in a manger as a babe. Yes, Jesus came to you and me in a manger and on a donkey; He came to the cross to meet our sin in humility and compassion. Yes, His first coming some two-thousand years ago was not in judgment but a coming of grace and mercy; a coming to replace the terror of sin with the joy of righteousness.
Truly, the Messiah was born
and came to die. He came to die—for
you. He came to suffer—for you. He put on human flesh so that He could take—your
place on the cross. He came to
accomplish forgiveness—for you.
What this means is that the
coming of our Lord is not bad news, but good news. It is a coming of redemption; it is a coming
of forgiveness of sins. Therefore, the coming
of the Lord means that we don’t have to be terrified, that there is no
ascending, that there is no need to construct ladders, and that there is
absolutely no need to meet the Lord half-way.
He came fully for you; the mission was accomplished and He is coming
back again to take you home.
Not only did He come some
two-thousand years ago in a manger and upon a donkey and not only will He come
at the end of the age, as previously mentioned He also comes to you right here
and right now. He comes to you in His
Word, in the Waters of your baptism, and He comes to you in His flesh and blood
as you eat that very flesh that He sacrificed for you on the cross and the very
blood that He shed for you on the cross—for the forgiveness of your sins.
The Lord came, comes, and
will come—for you. This Advent Season we
remember, hear, and confess that we have a Lord that comes to us. He is not an impassive observer far above the
fray or a goal that we must attain. He
is alive and active, one who enters into the present aeon to accomplish
salvation and deliver us His gifts.
Furthermore, we do not limit
His coming to Christmas only but believe, teach, and confess that He comes to
us continually in His Word and Sacraments in His Church—in this church—until He
finally comes again to resurrect us unto Himself.
The Lord come; He comes for
you.
The peace of God, which
passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.
[1] Adolf
Koberle, The Quest for Holiness: A
Biblical, Historical, and Systematic Investigation (Eugene, OR: WIPF and
STOCK Publishers, 2004), 2.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Gene Edward Veith Jr., The Spirituality of the Cross: The Way of the First Evangelicals (St. Louis, MO: Concordia Publishing House, 1999), 23.
[5] Portion of the Small Catechism’s Explanation of the 3rd Article of the Apostles Creed.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Gene Edward Veith Jr., The Spirituality of the Cross: The Way of the First Evangelicals (St. Louis, MO: Concordia Publishing House, 1999), 23.
[5] Portion of the Small Catechism’s Explanation of the 3rd Article of the Apostles Creed.