Christ's Promising Word

Fourth Sunday in Lent
March 14, 2010
Where is Jesus in this Picture?
Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

A Man Had Two Sons

Today we hear again the most powerful and potent parable that Jesus ever told. But let me ask you this. Where is Jesus in this picture? I see you and I see me. I see God. But where is Jesus? Where is Jesus in this parable?

The story is a familiar one: “There was a man who had two sons.” And we are either one or the other, you and me, the younger son or the older son. Although I suppose, at times, we could be both.

The younger son came to his father and said, “Dad, I am grown up now. I want to do things on my own. Give me my inheritance. Do it now already.” In effect, the son is saying, “Dad, I wish you were dead.”

And much to our surprise, this father does. This father divides up his property, gives it to his two sons, and lets the younger son go on his way. This dad, of course, is God. If it were me, I would punch this kid’s running lights out.

But, no, God does the opposite. As much as it hurts God, God will not force us to remain in his household if we do not want to be there. God loves us all that much. That God will let us go and leave if we insist.

And yet, that does not mean that God stops waiting, hoping, watching, longing for our return. God loves us so much that God will not give up.

A Welcome Homecoming

And you know what happens next. The kid blows his bundle, ends up feeding pigs and becomes so hungry that he is ready to eat pig food. He hits bottom and then it hits him. Even the slaves at his father’s house have more to eat than he does.

And so, he will go back, repent and say, “Father, I have sinned; I am not worthy to be your son. But would you at least treat me as a hired hand?” And he goes, rehearsing his speech along the way.

But while he was still a distance off the waiting father saw him, ran to him, and kissed him before a single word came out of his mouth. And immediately this “waiting father” told his servants to bring the finest robe and to place the family ring upon his hand and the shoes of freedom on his feet and to kill the fatted calf and throw a wild party.

Forgiven Now Already

And notice please that this wayward son is not forgiven as the result of anything he did. He did not earn forgiveness by coming home or by making the correct apology. His father does not even given him a chance to use the speech he practiced on the pigs. The son just walks in and discovers that he had his dad’s forgiveness all along.

God knows the “pig pen” we have made of our lives. And yet, already now it is all forgiven whether you wish to be aware of it or not. All of the junk and clutter that we have allowed to pile up in our lives have been loaded up and carted off to the cross of Jesus Christ and dumped into the grave.

The saving death of Jesus Christ means that we are forgiven now, already, even before we think of confessing and repenting. The only question is whether or not we will wake up and smell the coffee and go back home where we belong and realize that our “waiting father” God celebrates the return of every sinner with a blowout party. God loves us all that much. It is amazing—this faithful, gracious, awesome love of God.

Awesome, but Offensive

It is so awesome, in fact, that it is offensive and appalling. Which brings us to the second son. And there is a bit of that son in us, too, the older one, that is begrudging of God’s grace.

“All these years I have slaved for you, and yet, you never gave me even a little goat for an outdoor barbeque. But when this son of yours came home, you killed the fatted calf for him.”

And isn’t this choice of words so revealing?

All this time at his father’s house had not been a joy at all, but a drudgery and duty—as it is for anyone who thinks that we earn God’s love “by being good.”

And already he has separated himself from his dad and brother. His heart has already fled into some “far country” even though he still parked his body at home. He is just as lost as his younger brother whom he so bitterly condemns.

Stop Complaining and Pour Yourself a Drink

But the father’s love is big enough for this son, too. “Look here, kid. He’s my son and you’re my son. Neither one of you ever had to “earn” this stuff. You both already have everything I’ve got. My whole life. My whole being. So what in the world are you complaining for? Come on, wipe that sour look off your face, come inside, and fix yourself a drink.”

Nothing is more deadly to our lives than “righteous indignation.” It is worse than waywardness. And so, we need to be saved from that one, too.

So, where is Jesus in this picture? I see you and I see me. We’re one of the two sons, either the “wayward” one or the “self-righteous” one. In fact, sometimes we are the two together. And God is the father in this parable. This waiting and forgiving father. But where is Jesus in this picture?

Jesus is the Fatted Calf

And isn’t it so clear? He is the “fatted calf.” Jesus is the “fatted calf.” And what do “fatted calves” do? The stand around with one purpose in life: to drop dead on a moment’s notice in order that other people might be fed and can have a party.

And if that doesn’t sound like the “Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” then I don’t know what does.

Jesus is the one who offers up his life at the father’s request and dies so that someone else may have a party. Grace we call it. Grace. G-R-A-C-E. God’s Riches at Christ’s Expense.

And isn’t that exactly what Jesus said on this night of his last supper: “Take eat, this is my body given for you. Take drink, this cup is the new covenant of my blood poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.

Like the Lamb at Passover

Like the paschal lamb, the death of Jesus (his sacrifice upon the cross), becomes food for a journey, a journey that takes us from a bondage to every form of slavery and sets us free as God’s children in God’s land of promise.

Or, like the young bull offered at the temple for the sake of the sins of the high priest (in other words “the highest form sacrifice”), the sacrifice of Jesus draws us near to God and brings us to God’s table. Not as a slave or servant, but as a son, a child of God. J

esus is the one who allows it all to happen—this feasting and this celebration.

Not only is Jesus the one who tells the story, who lets us know that we have a forgiving Father, but he is also the one who allows it all to happen. Without him there would be no party, no joy or celebration.

This parable is so powerful and so potent because Jesus is there. Jesus is there in this picture with us. And this is no made up story. It really happened. It really did. Jesus did do this for you and for me.

© 2010 Pastor Paul Jaster

Third Sunday in Lent
March 7, 2010
Does God ZAP Sinners?
Luke 13:1-9

Horrible Headlines

Leave it to Jesus to rewrite the headlines for us. It is a gripping picture of a forgiving and faithful God that Jesus paints for us today, although it does begin with a gruesome tale.

Some of those coming to Jesus told him of one of the horrible headlines in the news. The kind that we see on TV every day. The Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, had recently killed some people on pilgrimage from Galilee while they were offering their sacrifices in Jerusalem, thus mingling their blood with their sacrifices. My word, what a gruesome sight!

And here is Jesus’ answer: “Do you think that just because these Galileans suffered such a horrible death, they were some kind of super-sinners? No way!” Jesus says. “But unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.” And then, Jesus adds a horrible headline of his own. Some kind of industrial accident. The Tower of Siloam fell, killing18.

Why Do Terrible Things Happen?

Why? Jesus why? Why do great tragedies like this happen? Why do terrible traffic accidents take place? Why do people get horrible diseases and killing cancers? Why do some people always seem to have a huge black cloud hanging over their head?

And here we have an answer from our Lord himself. “Tragedies do NOT happen because God is out to get someone. God is not out on some big vendetta zapping sinners. God just doesn’t operate that way. Those people who die in tragic accidents or in cruel acts of terror are no greater sinners than all the rest. Tragedies simply happen…by accident…at random,” Jesus says.

“So come on, you guys, stop acting like death is something God sends only to the bad guys and come to realize that one day you must die too. You must die,” Jesus says, “And I, Jesus, must die. The only question is will you die in hopelessness and despair. Or, will you come to realize that death is not the awful tragedy that human fear has made of it.

“Because I have come to die with you and to die for you. And I am the spitting image of a faithful God who will not fail those who put their trust in him. In fact, death, my friend, MY death is the very way that God has chosen to save you.”

The Picture of the Fig Tree

“And just in case you have trouble understanding that, then let me draw still yet another picture for you,” Jesus says. “This guy had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, see. And he kept coming to it looking for figs finding none. And so he said to his gardener, “Three years I have been trying to get some figs from this tree and it hasn’t produced even one. Cut it down. Why should it use up the ground?”

But, the gardener said to him, “Let it be Lord. Give it another chance. Let me dig around it and put on manure. And if it bears fruit next year, so much the better; if not, then you can cut it down.”

At First, The Same Old Story

At first this sounds like the same old story. God giving people what they deserve. God giving people the ax when they do not bear the fruit that they were meant to bear. And isn’t that the way it always works? Three strikes and you’re out! If the computer doesn’t work or if your Toyota doesn’t break, then get rid of it.

If you cannot do the job, you’re fired. If you cannot pass this test, then maybe you had better start thinking of a new career. If someone hasn’t shown up in church for three years, they are “dead wood,” aren’t they? And shouldn’t we get the pruning shears out and trim them from the rolls?

You want a horror story? This is the real horror story. We are all dead. All of us, right now. We do not bear the fruit that God expects. And if God were to give us what we deserve, God would give us the ax. That is the law—God’s word of judgment.

But, Jesus Gives a New Ending

But Jesus gives a new ending to this old story. Instead of the woodpile for us, Jesus inserts a dramatic intervention. A load of fertilizer and tender loving care. “Forgive it, Lord. Forgive it. I will dig about it. I will fertilize and nurture it. I will bring it back to life again with my own work and effort.”

It happens all by grace. That is the message of good news that Jesus has for us.

On the cross Jesus held out his hand and stopped the ax. He died the death that was meant for us. And he said to God, “Forgive them, Lord. Forgive them. I will dig around them and fertilize them with the death of my own body.”

And by a strange, odd act of grace, God made his awful, stinking death turn into a helpful, spirited substance which makes us come alive and bear that one fruit which is the sweetest to God’s taste—the fruit of faith.

By a miracle of grace, death has become the way to life. The death of Jesus dug down deep into the very roots of our being and fills us with that energizing juice—a holy Miracle-gro—that makes us come alive and be productive.

Life Through Death & The Fruit of Faith

And if that sounds to you like a bunch of sheep dip, well then, let me simply remind you that the smelly stuff that my father put around his tomatoes (the manure) made those little tomato plants grow. That stuff that smelled so bad (like death itself) was the very stuff that gave something else a fruitful life. “You can not beat it,” my father said, “so pug your nose and stop complaining.”

It’s like when a patient coach gives us another chance at bat even though we have struck out three times already—this time with his strong, skilled arms around us guiding and directing us.

Or, it is like when a generous employer keeps on and still gives us our Christmas bonus even though we have made a big mistake that has cost the company big bucks.

Or, it’s like when an understanding teacher rips up a disappointing test and says, “Let’s forget about this one, I myself will tutor you and we try again and again and again until we get it right.”

Something dies—the rules of the game, any sense of cost accounting, academic excellence. Something dies. But something also blooms and grows—the love, the faith, the hope, the trust of the one who has been forgiven.

When Jesus dug himself a hole and got himself nailed upon a cross, something died—God judgment died. And…something else was born—a new life for the believer.

As long as our roots are fed by the death of Jesus, we bear the fruit which is the sweetest to God’s taste. We do. We really do. We bear the fruit of faith. Which, to God, is the very best fruit of them all.

© 2010 Pastor Paul Jaster

Second Sunday in Lent
February 28, 2010
Jesus’ Lament
Luke 13:31-35

God is like a Mother Hen

It is  said, “A picture is worth a 1,000 words.” And that certainly can be said of Jesus.

Jesus often painted pictures to get his point across—especially pictures right off the farm.

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

The love of God. The passionate and personal love of God. What is that love  it like? Just look at this picture. It is like a mother hen, who, when the fox comes and threatens the brood, gathers her chicks under her wings to save them and protect them.

The Decoy

I’ve never spent much time around chickens, but I did see this parable happen once.

I was canoeing up in the Minnesota Boundary Waters—which is paradise itself. And I saw a mother duck with a bunch of little ducklings all spread out. And they were so cute and cuddly that I had to paddle over to take a closer look.

And first this mother duck swept them under her wings and pushed them to the shore under some brush. And then she flew away and left them by a couple of dozen yards so that I would go after her instead of them.

She was the decoy drawing me away. She would rather have me come after her to die herself than have me mess with her little chicks.

The Love of Almost Any Mom

And who needs to be around chickens or ducks to get the picture? You see it in almost every mom—that passionate desire to love and protect her children with her own wings.

That is the maternal instinct that God has put into every mom. It’s in their genes. It’s in their DNA. God has programmed them that way.

And that is precisely what the love of God is like. It is like that passionate, self-sacrificing maternal instinct that we can see in any mom anywhere in nature.

Love Spurned & Rejected

But just because this mothering God loves us and protects us doesn’t mean we like it.

When I paddled up to those ducklings, a lot of quacking was going on. And although I am not particularly fluent in “duck,” I can easily guess what they were saying.

“Quack! Quack! Henry, get back here. I told you not to swim so far away. You shouldn’t get anywhere near to strangers.”

“O mom, stop hyperventilating. It’s only just a couple of tourists in a canoe. They will not harm me.”

And that is part of our programming too. To take parental love… and to spurn it…and reject it, because parents tend to clip our wings and tie us down.

Time and time again Mother-Hen-God sent prophets to tell her children just how much she loves them. How much she passionately loves them. And to warn them of the terrible danger they are in when they wander too far away from God’s protecting arms.

But, by and large, God’s people just dismissed them as a bunch of noisy quacks, hyperventilating over nothing.

We Kill Any Challenge to Our Status Quo

And Herod is not the only one who tried to kill Jesus because Jesus was a challenge and a threat to his self-indulgent way of life. His power and his control.

We kill Jesus too, each time we reject God’s love and try to live our life on our own apart from God’s provision and protection.

We kill Jesus each time we stonewall him and block him out of our lives because his way of life is too restrictive and confining.

O sure, we like to hear the Gospel word that God loves us.

But don’t let that love make any demands on us. Don’t let it meddle in our affairs. Don’t let it change the course on which we are swimming.

For we are big kids after all. What need have we of a mothering smothering God?

Christ’s Passionate, Persistent Love

Well, our need is great. For in a world of sin and death, we are as vulnerable as a tiny, little chick in an outside yard. We are in great danger. Grave danger.

But just because we reject our parents’ love, does not mean that our parents stop loving us. At least not true parents, although some human parents can let us down.

Within our Lord’s lament over Jerusalem there is a heavy sigh—the sigh of love rejected. But more than that, there is the passionate desire to keep on loving still no matter what the cost.

“Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. …I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.”

Jesus was leaving. He was leaving Herod’s Galilee and going on to Jerusalem. NOT because he was scared and running away from Herod, but in order to face a greater foe and a greater danger for us—the death we to die because of our lovelessness and hate…and our desire to rebel and live apart form the love of God.

The mission and the ministry of Jesus Christ continues. And even a powerful ruler like Herod cannot stop it. Until it takes Jesus to Jerusalem and to the cross.

And there an odd maneuver takes place. Jesus flies away from his brood of disciples. Why?

For the same reason that the mother duck flew away from her ducklings. To be the decoy. To be the prey. If any danger must come to my children, Jesus says, then let that danger fall on me.

Pictured in the Pelican

On the bottom panel of our stained glass window entitled “crucifixion,” there is another female bird, a mother pelican, surrounding her young with her love.

Why there? Why on that panel?

It is because in medieval piety, people thought that the mother pelican would pick at her own breast until it bled to feed her young with her own blood.

They were wrong, of course. She was not picking at her breast, she was just mashing fish against it. And that gooey mess just looked like blood.

But they were not wrong in using it as a way to picture what it is that Jesus Christ has done for us. He has poured out his own blood so that we can live.

It is no accident that we call the death that Jesus died his “passion” for that is what it is all about—God’s passionate love for us. A love which never stops. Even when it is rejected.

And how can we ever picture it? How can we ever picture the great intensity of a love like that? Well, picture it like this—the love of any mom.

© 2010 Pastor Paul Jaster

First Sunday in Lent
February 21, 2010
Testing
Luke 4:1-13

Is God Testing You?

Do you ever feel that God is testing you? I once lived with a community of believers during a time of tremendous struggle in the church. Families were being divided. People were losing their jobs and homes. All because of struggles over biblical interpretation. It is a lousy way to be the church. I do not recommend it.

And we were all gathered in a large field house, a gym, trying to figure out what to do next. About 500 people. And down on the floor some tech was setting up the sound system and putting up a mike on a stand so that the wise old saints among us could give us guidance and direction. And the tech bent over the microphone and said, “Testing, testing, testing.” And the room became hushed

First up was old “Doc” Caemerer, the oldest preacher in the bunch. Shaky, thin and frail, and yet as spirited as ever. He came to put in words the anxiety we all were feeling.

And the first thing that came out of his mouth was to say that that young tech had already said it all. “God was testing…testing… testing us.” And the crowd broke into thunderous applause because old “Doc” had put his finger on our malady with just one word. God was “testing” us. Do you ever feel that way? Do you ever feel that God is testing you?

Lent Begins with the Temptation of Jesus

The Sundays of Lent always begin with the temptation of Jesus. Right after Jesus was baptized around the age of 30, Jesus was led out into the wilderness by the Spirit. And there he was tempted by the devil for 40 days. Not just one day. But 40 days. Each and every day. And do you get that equation: to be baptized is to be tempted, “tested” daily?

And I have always found great comfort in that Jesus as tested too.  God doesn’t place a protective bubble around his Son. God doesn’t a make special exception for Jesus just because he is God’s chosen one.

Rather God sends Jesus into the most extreme hostile environment we humans ever have to face. Jesus too is tested, in every way that we are: food, wealth, power, status, religious furor. You name it. Jesus has been there too.

Life in the Wilderness

Jesus’ stay in the wilderness for 40 days makes us think of Israel in the wilderness for 40 years. Back in the days of Moses, God led Israel out of slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.

But, in between those two places there was a long, wilderness stay. And at first, the wilderness seems to be a God-forsaken place. A place of death. A place of curse. There is no water, no food, no plants, no growth. Only dangerous and threatening things live there…including Satan.

But it is not a place of death. Strangely, almost miraculously, the terrifying desert becomes a “place of life” because God himself is there and God is leading them.

Maybe God didn’t lead them as fast as they wanted to go. And maybe didn’t always lead them in the same direction they wanted to go. Haven’t we all learned the hard way like Israel did that God’s interests do not always match our own? God doesn’t always think like you or me.

But God comes through. God always comes through with help and full provision. Bread from heaven–manna. And water out of a rock.

God Provides

And in a way, any wilderness experience is as much about “testing” God as it is about “testing” us. And have you ever thought of that? Times of temptation don’t just tempt us but they also “test” God. Will God come through? Will God be faithful to his promises?

And take any wilderness experience you want. The answer is always “Yes!” “Yes!” “Yes!” God is faithful. God comes through on every promise. God will always, always pass the test! Maybe not in our way and our timetable. But certainly on his.

Out of its experience in the wilderness, Israel learned something about its God. That the God of Israel was indeed a very present help in time of trouble. And that this God is always able to do the life-giving thing even when it seems to be so impossible.

And Israel learned something about the wilderness. That even though it seemed so empty and so hopeless it was a place of nourishment because God was there.

And Israel also learned something about itself. That it had to live in a complete dependence on a God who in his own way and in his own time would provide.

Jesus Remains the Faithful Son of God

Which brings us now to Jesus and his own 40 days in the wilderness. Another act of God’s provision.

In the wilderness, Jesus faces all of the same temptations we have to face. That same sense of hunger and frustration, short-cuts to power, glory and the easy way. Jesus is tested…tested… tested… every way that we are.

And yet, Jesus remains the faithful Son of God. Jesus becomes the only human being in history who does not give into temptation. He remains the obedient Son of God. A true Israelite. And through his love and grace, his obedience becomes our own.

Obviously, the story is not over yet. The temptation of Jesus is only our Lord’s first round with Satan. Clearly, there will be more. The devil leaves for a more “opportune time” the bible tells—which means that this battle will ultimately go to the cross.

On the cross, Jesus will be tempted again, “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross. He saved others but he cannot save himself.” That will be the tempting taunt. And that is true. He cannot save himself, not if he would save us. (And don’t you ever for a moment think that it wasn’t tempting for Jesus to use his power and come down.)

We Know the Final Outcome

And yet, already now on this First Sunday in Lent we know the final outcome. Jesus will resist the temptation to save himself. And in the process, he will save us.

And that in turn changes the wilderness for us. It changes our wilderness times and our wilderness places. For Jesus is God’s proof that God is with us and that God is for us in the wilderness moments of our life. A very present help in time of trouble.

Life is a test. It’s all a test. Of God, as much as it is of us. Will God be faithful to God’s promises? Will God come through? And the cross of Jesus Christ gives us the answer. The answer is “Yes!”  It’s always “Yes!” It’s always “Yes!” when Jesus is around.

© 2010 Pastor Paul Jaster

Ash Wednesday
February 17, 2010
Confession
John 20:22-23

Wow! What a Power

Wow! What a great power it is that Jesus gives us: “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any they are retained.” This is the power of Jesus. The power of confession and forgiveness. It is the “Office of the Keys.”

During this Lenten season on Wednesday evenings, it is our plan to do something very Lutheran and talk about the “six chief parts” of the Christian faith.

And where we start is with what Martin Luther called the “Office of the Keys,” because it is a key the unlocks the doors of heaven itself. We know it better as “Confession & Forgiveness.”

At almost every worship service we have, the very first thing we do is to return to our baptism, confess our sins and receive the assurance of God’s forgiveness. And on the Ash Wednesday night we do the very same thing with all the more intensity—very mindful of our mortality. “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.”

In previous years, the tradition in our Lutheran churches was to confess our sins this night, this Ash Wednesday night, and then hold off the pronouncement of forgiveness until Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. This way Ash Wednesday and Good Friday formed the two bookends of the Lenten Season.

On Ash Wednesday we confessed our sins, we did so very deeply and very personally. And then, on Good Friday we received the personal assurance of God’s forgiveness.

Personal Assurance of Forgiveness

And we still do that in a very unique way here at Emmanuel. And I invite you to come back on Good Friday at noon to complete the action.

On Good Friday between noon and 1:00 God’s people gather for about 10 minutes of private meditation. And then, they are invited to come forward to the communion rail where they stand or kneel as they are able.

And after they do, I will go down the row one-by-one to lay my hands on them and give the personal assurance of God’s forgiveness: “In obedience to the command of our Lord Jesus Christ, I forgive you all your sins.” It is a powerful and moving moment for us all. And then we receive the reserved sacrament, bread and wine, from the night before and go.

But before this all happens, Bob Lessing reads a passage from Martin Luther’s “Brief Exhortation to Confession & Forgiveness.” It’s a powerful piece. And although I hear it for about three times year after year, I never tire of it.

Part One: Look in the Mirror

Confession has two parts, Luther says. The first is that we confess our sins and examine ourselves on the basis of the Ten Commandments. Take out the Ten Commandments, Luther says, and use it like a “mirror.”

Do you know how you can’t see a blot or blemish on your face without a mirror? Who would ever go outside in the morning without checking one’s appearance in a mirror first?

Well, hold up the Ten Commandments like a mirror, Luther says, and then begin to ask yourself these questions: “Have you feared, loved and trusted God as God requires? Have you properly used his name, prayed, praised and given thanks? Have you kept God’s word holy, heard and learned it, as you should have done?Have you been loyal to your family, faithful to those who love and trust you? Have you served and helped your neighbor in every need?

Room for Improvement

I don’t know how you do when you check your lives against the Ten Commandments, but I know how I do. And it’s always, “Oops! There is clearly room for some improvement.” The face I see in the mirror always has its faults and blemishes.

Do any of you have High Definition TV? I just read that actors and actresses and the TV talent are getting upset with HD TV because it now shows all the faults and blemishes on their faces.

Well, the Ten Commandments are like that, too. They are like HD TV. They will show us all our faults and failings, if only we dare to look at our lives through them closely. That is the bad news.

Part Two: Faith in Jesus Christ

But the good news is this: the second part of confession is faith. Faith in Jesus Christ. Who has taken away the burden of our sin and who gives to us the assurance of God’s forgiveness as an undeserved gift of God’s grace. It is all gift. Sheer gift. The very gift of God. What we cannot do ourselves, Christ has done for us.

And so, Luther says, when the pastor absolves you, these are not just empty words. But something is really happening. You are really receiving the forgiveness of God promised in the Gospel. It is happening, it really is.

Your sins are indeed forgiven you before God, just as certainly as if Christ himself would immediately speak from heaven: “Be of good cheer, my son, my daughter, your sins are all forgiven you.” The voice of Christ himself. That’s what we hear when we confess our sins and receive the assurance of forgiveness. The voice of Christ himself.

How Do You Picture Sin?

About two weeks ago I was sitting with a couple of pastors at a professional leadership retreat. And one asked me, “How to do you picture sin?” I don’t know how you picture it. But I picture it as heavy weight or burden. And I feel it physically.

Sometimes it feels like a heavy weight on my shoulders. Like a monkey on my back. Sometimes it feels more like nausea or a knotting of the stomach.Sometimes if feels more like a pounding headache that will not go away.

But what a great gift it is to be able to bring that weight here week after week and reduce it all to dust and ashes and to be able to dump it and leave it at the foot of the cross. And then to walk away a Spirit-led person: washed, unburden and cleansed.

Now that is power. Real power.  The Power of Keys. Confession & Forgiveness. An extension of our Baptism. That great part of Christian faith and life that unlocks the doors of heaven itself.

© 2010 Pastor Paul Jaster