This week we see how our Father makes the treasures of his house available to any and all. He places them in the last place we’d expect—the trash. In God’s family, the things the world prizes and pursues are counted as worthless. Conversely, what the world rejects and discards is considered priceless and worth pursuing.

The best example of this is Jesus Christ himself. The Father sent his greatest treasure—God the Son—to earth. And many considered Jesus to be a trash that needed to be taken out. . . a troublemaker that needed to be killed. In truth, Christ is the precious cornerstone that God used to build his house, the one with the open door.

This week we see how our Father makes the treasures of his house available to any and all. He places them in the last place we’d expect—the trash. In God’s family, the things the world prizes and pursues are counted as worthless. Conversely, what the world rejects and discards is considered priceless and worth pursuing.

The best example of this is Jesus Christ himself. The Father sent his greatest treasure—God the Son—to earth. And many considered Jesus to be a trash that needed to be taken out. . . a troublemaker that needed to be killed. In truth, Christ is the precious cornerstone that God used to build his house, the one with the open door.

Removing Our Guilt. “The Lord is not slow to do what he promised. . . . Instead, he is patient for your sakes, not wanting anyone to perish, but all to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). Luther began his famous debate theses noting that Scripture’s call to repentance is intended as a way of life. Using David’s great penitential Psalm 51, penned following his affair with Bathsheba and the murder of Uriah, we explore the depths of our sinful depravity, the brokenness of our relationship with God, our dire need for rescue, and the good news of forgiveness, cleansing, and rejoicing in our restored relationship with God and the promise of eternal life through Jesus our Savior. Today’s focus is on Psalm 51:8-9 and how God removes our guilt.

Whenever someone accuses us of doing wrong, it’s easy to get defensive. We make excuses. “I’m not that bad.” We try and balance the scales. “Okay, that was wrong. But look at all the good I do!” We play the comparison game. “At least I’m not like him!” When our defenses go up, repentance is impossible.

God, however, has a strategy for lowing our defenses. He assures us that his door is open, and that his home is the place where we don’t need to pretend to be something that we’re not—perfect. Our Father does not ask us to come to him and confess our sin so that he might know what we’ve done. He already knows. He asks us to repent so that we might fully know what we’ve done. Only when we grasp the true weight of our sin, will we call out to God for mercy. When we do, God is always quick to forgive.

Ash Wednesday marks the begging of Lent, reminding us of our mortality and calling us to repent. The ancient practice of imposing ashes on the foreheads of the faithful is what gives Ash Wednesday its name. The church father Tertullian (c. A.D. 160-215) writes of the practice as a public expression of repentance and of our human frailty that stands in need of Christ. Ashes can remind us forcefully of our need for redeeming grace as they recall words from the rite of Christian burial—“earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”—words that will someday be spoken over us all.

Would you look directly at the sun? Only if you wanted to burn your retinas and have permanent blind spots. Would you like to look directly at God? It sounds wonderful in theory. Yet Scripture describes God’s glory as being brighter than the sun. Moreover, one component of God’s glory is his holiness. Being holy doesn’t just mean God loves good; he also hates evil with burning intensity. And we sin every day. No wonder the Lord once told Moses, “No one may see me and live” (Exodus 33:20). Sinners would die of fear if they saw God in all his holy glory.

So, how then can we possibly know God? How can we draw near to him without dying of terror? In our final epiphany moment of this season, God explains. God hides his glory in order to reveal himself. To carry out his good and glorious work of salvation, Jesus hid his glory and went to the cross. To allow sinners to stare at his glory without fear or harm, God hides it in the gospel. In the gospel, we see the glory of Christ’s love, power, and salvation. The reality is that when God’s glory is hidden, it is most on display.

Throughout this season of Epiphany, Jesus has described the governing principles of his kingdom being completely opposite to the governing principles of the world. This week Jesus asks us to befriend our enemies, to love those who hate us, and to repay evil with good. Worldly logic would say that is a recipe for being walked all over. Yet haven’t we seen this tactic work? When we were Christ’s enemies, he loved us to the point of death. He repays our daily wrongs with the daily goodness of his mercy. In doing so, he won us for himself.

Here is the epiphany we badly need to have. Following the strategy Jesus lays out—loving our enemies—is not a capitulation to evil. It is a means of conquering it.

Imagine you need heart bypass surgery. When meeting with the surgeon, you ask, “How many of these have you done?” He responds, “You get the honor of being my very first patient!” You probably feel more anxious than honored. With important jobs, we understand it is crucial that the person doing that job is well-qualified.

There is no more important job than sharing the good news of salvation with others. So, you would expect Jesus would only give that job to those most qualified, like the angels. Nope. The least qualified are the first sent. In love, Jesus prepares and equips us to speak on his behalf. How? He draws unworthy sinners into his presence to provide us with the free gift of holiness that we lack. Once cleansed, we jump at the opportunity to be the ones through whom God does the same for others. Here is this week’s epiphany moment. Let this be a crucial epiphany moment! You might think you are unqualified to share the gospel with those Christ brings into your sphere of influence. But the least qualified are the first sent.

When you are trying to share some important information with someone, but they refuse to listen or perhaps totally reject what you are saying, it feels like you have failed. This is especially true when someone rejects the gospel! We proclaim the good news because we want others to know the love of Christ. When people are disinterested in God’s Word, we feel like we’ve failed.

So, here is this week’s epiphany. Rejection is not proof of failure. Precisely because the gospel is divine revelation, it is guaranteed to be rejected by many. God’s Word offends like an unwelcome diagnosis from the doctor. When someone rejects God’s Word (including us), that rejection is proof that God’s Word powerfully cuts straight to the heart of mankind’s biggest problem—sin. Yet, what causes Jesus’ words to hurt is what gives them power to heal. That reality encourages us to receive God’s Word with joy and to proclaim it boldly to others.

“Who is Jesus?” For the longest time, people thought the answer to that question was, “Mary and Joseph’s son” or “a carpenter from Nazareth.” While true enough, those answers do not adequately describe Jesus. But when Jesus was baptized, God the Father spoke, declaring Jesus true identity. Jesus was the dearly loved Son of God, chosen to be the Savior of the world.

“Who are you?” someone asks. Perhaps you would answer by providing your name. Maybe you would add additional information—where you are from or what you do for a living. Perhaps, in some dark corner of your mind, you would answer negatively. “I’m no one.”

We need to understand that none of those things really describes who we are. To answer that question—Who are you?—we must look to our baptism. Baptism is the cure for an identity crisis. There, just like he did with Jesus, our Father declares us to be his dearly loved child. Moreover, in baptism God anointed us with power for a life of selfless service. May God grant us this epiphany moment!