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.

“This is good. That is bad.” We often think life is that simple. We believe we can assess a situation accurately and determine if it is positive or negative. It’s hubris. As Jesus gathered followers, he taught them that his kingdom runs exactly opposite to the principles and priorities of the world. Therefore, much that we think is good is bad, and vice-versa.

If we want to accurately see the world, we need to have this epiphany. That which the world considers a blessing can often be a curse. Things like success and wealth and health can lead us away from our God. We become so enamored with those blessings that we forget about the Blesser. Conversely, there are hidden blessings in what we would normally consider curses. When we fail, when we suffer, and when things don’t go our way, it forces us to put our trust in God and for our souls to be satisfied in him. The reality is that perceived blessings can be cursed and perceived curses can be used for our blessing.

Humility and pride are polar opposites. Pride exalts self at the expense of God and others. Humility exalts God and others at the expense of self. Pride is the essential vice, for it increases one’s hunger for all other sins. Humility increases one’s hunger for the forgiveness and healing found in Christ. The one who is proud demands to be served. The one who is humble is not content unless serving others. St. Augustine described it this way: “It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels.”

As we see all Christ did to serve us, our hearts melt. Within us grows a Christ-like obsession to serve others, without counting the cost, without any desire to be repaid. Those who are in positions of Christian leadership understand that their leadership can only be achieved through service. For followers of Christ are humble servants.

What is the worst war in human history? One might point to World War II, which has the highest death toll of at least 90 million people. Or consider the Three Kingdoms War, which not only resulted in over 40 million deaths but also lasted for most of the third century. There is no end to the sad list of nominations: the Thirty Years War, the Taiping Rebellion, the American Civil War, World War I.

None of those is the correct answer. The worst war in human history began when the first shot was fired in Eden. It has been raging since. It is a war against “spiritual forces of evil” (Ephesians 6:12). This is not a war over land or resources. It is a war for souls. The reality is that there are demonic forces that want to do more than kill you; they want to claim you for all eternity. The good news: Christ has already called you his own and equipped you for this war. Followers of Christ are armed for the battle.

If ministry involves serving others with love and compassion, you would think that people would respond only with glee and gratitude for the help they received. Sometimes, but not always. If you offer to help a family member who is having trouble paying his bills, he might be offended, wondering if you are implying that he is not a good provider. Likewise, if you try and share the gospel with someone, he might resent the message that he is a sinner in need of salvation. You are trying to minister to this man’s greatest need. Your intentions are loving. Yet he responds with rejection and resentment.

When our ministry efforts are met not with glee and gratitude but rejection and resentment, we are in good company. The prophets, apostles, and even Jesus himself all had those who responded negatively to their ministries. When that happens to us, it doesn’t mean our ministry is no longer meaningful. For if others do not appreciate our efforts to serve them, God still appreciates our efforts to serve him.

This midweek Advent Sermon Series tells the stories of the clothing of the King. Stories that describe a wardrobe at once splendid and sin-stained, with fabrics that reveal who we are and cover us all the same. The clothing of the King is tattered and worn and glorious in its incorruptibility. It isn’t ours, yet He gives it to us freely.

Welcome to worship today at Morrison Zion Lutheran Church.  We exist to glorify God.  We… read more

Pride is revealed Rejection is revealed Grace is revealed Welcome to worship today at Morrison… read more