Saving Faith is Thanking Faith
So it goes. And some of us might feel a bit of sympathy
toward this concern. After all, we do cry out for mercy an awful lot in our
liturgy. But if we are serious about
wanting to give thanks to God, we’ve got to go at it a little differently. The reason we can’t move beyond our cry for
mercy is twofold: 1) we are unable
to move beyond our sin; we keep needing mercy, and 2), it is precisely when our dear Lord answers this constant cry of
ours that we learn again and again what it means to be thankful.
We can’t move beyond
our sin. Can we? The battle is within us. Consider what the Apostle Paul writes in our
Epistle lesson this morning: “For the flesh lusts against the Spirit, and
the Spirit against the flesh; and these are contrary to one another, so that
you do not do the things that you wish.” We have not escaped our flesh in this life, nor
have we mastered its desires. This means
that we have not graduated from our need to cry out as all the saints have
taught us to do: Lord have mercy. In order to consider our continual need to ask
God for mercy, we need to examine the true predicament we’re in: our sin. First we ask what these sins are, and
then second, we ask why they are such a big deal. St. Paul continues in his epistle by answering
both these questions in proper order. He
gives us a lengthy list of the works of the flesh. “Now the works of the flesh are obvious,”
he writes. That is, they are clearly
identifiable in light of God’s holy law, and they are clearly evil. They include:
adultery,
fornication, uncleanness, lewdness, idolatry, sorcery, hatred, contentions,
jealousies, outbursts of wrath, selfish ambitions, dissensions, heresies, envy,
murders, drunkenness, revelries, and the like; of which I tell you beforehand,
just as I also told you in time past, that those who practice such things will
not inherit the kingdom of God.
These sins that we
ought not to practice, we find ourselves doing.
These sins that we are constantly contending with, that begin in our
hearts and that manifest themselves in various ways, not only disqualify us
from inheriting what God gives to the pure and righteous, but they hurt our
neighbor too. Such is the nature of
sin. And this is why our sin is such a
big deal. It offends God and it hurts
our neighbor.
Now, it’s hard to see
God offended. What does it look
like? But you most certainly can see man
offended. And so naturally, it’s easier
for us to fear men more than we fear God.
Peoples’ opinions are important to us, because we see how they affect us
here and now. Who wants to be
disrespected or shunned by his close friends because of something that he did
to upset them? For that matter, who
wants to hurt his friends or cause them grief?
No decent person I know. How we come
across to others matters. And so it’s
easy to imagine that the judgment of our neighbor is the measure of sin and
virtue. If others in our community are
offended or bothered by what we do or say, then it’s a sin. Don’t do it.
If others in our community are not bothered, then it’s OK. It might even be something worth
celebrating. So first, we determine
whether our sin is a big deal, and then based on that we determine whether it’s
even a sin at all.
But of course, this switches
the order around, and leaves God completely out of the picture. Instead of being the lawgiver, he becomes
beholden to our own rules. How sin
offends God becomes determined by how sin affects us. How does this happen? How do churches spiral into such decay? Well, when religious community becomes more
important than communion with God; that’s how.
Now, this isn’t to say that such religious communities don’t gather to
praise God. Oh, don’t be fooled. They do.
They praise! At least they think
they do. They call God great. They thank him for what anyone with 5 senses
is able to trace back to their Maker — food, health, clothing, family, emotional
and mental stability, what have you. But
when it comes to the greatest thing that God bestows to poor sinners on earth,
there is something very important very much lacking. Because if you don’t let God define your
greatest need, then your greatest need remains unmet. You need a Savior from sin. You need Jesus.
Jesus saw 10 lepers in
need. They cried out to him for
mercy. No wonder. They saw and felt their need like no one
else. They had no delusions about what
they needed. They had a horrible
disease. Now, leprosy serves very well
as a picture of sin. First of all, there
was no way to get rid of it. Once you
were infected, the symptoms spread and spread until death literally consumed
the whole body. Each member would rot
until it fell off. So also, sin spreads
and corrupts man. At some point it can
no longer be ignored. And the wages of
sin is death.
Leprosy was
contagious. Contact with a leper would
transmit the awful disease. So also, sin
is contagious. Association with gossips
leads to gossip. Association with
fornicators leads to fornication, or with thieves leads to theft, or with
blasphemers leads to blasphemy. We
should avoid such people if they will not repent of their sin, lest we become
guilty with them. We should remain
pure. So also, lepers were avoided by everyone
who wanted to stay healthy.
This was perhaps the
worst part. I mean, everyone dies — even
at young ages — from this disease or that.
As tragic as death always is, what a comfort to wrap up life with
loved-ones at your side. But not for a
leper. He was cut off. By divine law, they were separated from the
general assembly. And if the social
disadvantages were bad enough, it meant also that they were cut off from the
services of the temple in Jerusalem where God met his people in mercy. But they had to stay away. They were unclean. They could not sing the hymns, pray the
psalms, thank and praise, or hear the Gospel in the temple. Like with leprosy, so also sin (with all the
heartache that it causes) finds its worst consequence by far in that it
separates the sinner from God. Not only
spiritually, but often people’s shame and embarrassment keep them from showing
their face in church again. They feel
judged. But where else will they find
the mercy they need?
Here in our Gospel
lesson, God was having mercy. Jesus saw
10 lepers in need. They confessed their
need as they cried out to him for mercy.
He healed them all: “Go show
yourselves to the priests.” In other
words, “Go back to your religious community,
where the priests will examine you and upon seeing that you are clean will
welcome you back. No longer will your
leprosy be repugnant to them. No longer
will you be separated from those you love. No longer will you be separated from
God who loves you and wants to serve you.”
When Jesus healed the
10 lepers, God had mercy. Their prayer
was answered. But only one came back to
thank him.
The reason the nine
didn’t come back to thank Jesus was simple.
They weren’t grateful. Oh, in
some sense, of course, they were. Obviously. They were happy to be back in the community. They were happy to be back among the people
from whom their uncleanness separated them.
But they were not grateful to have received from Jesus what only Jesus
can give. They were done with
Jesus. He served his purpose. And so, although they no doubt praised and
thanked and glorified once they got to the temple, they did not return to him
who had filled their greatest need – to the true Temple who made them clean. They were satisfied enough to know that their
community would welcome them home.
That was the most
important thing for them. And so their
religious community replaced their God in importance. Who cared how God revealed his concern and
kindness? They were back in. And so whatever thanksgiving they gave
excluded Jesus entirely.
That’s what happens
when the purpose of gathering together in church becomes filling a social need
rather than filling a spiritual need. If
you’re there for the socializing, well, then of course, there’s no need to
bring Jesus back into the picture. Oh,
he’s been useful, no doubt. We cried for
mercy. He was merciful. But that’s over. Now that we are gathered in church, let’s
focus on praising and thanking God instead.
All this constant begging for mercy becomes superfluous and a little
awkward.
This is how sin is so
tragically downplayed in many churches today.
Community has taken over and trumped what makes for true communion with
God. If a community decides that a sin
no longer affects them, then they no longer treat it like a sin – and there is
no need to cry out for mercy. If divorce
becomes “understandable,” then ignore it.
Life is complicated. Now let’s
keep praising. If young couples
fornicating or even living together before marriage doesn’t bother the
community, then leave it alone. We’re
here to thank God, not judge. How about
homosexuality and women pastors and even abortion? How have these abominations become accepted
by so many churches today? They’re not
bothered by it; that’s how. But God still
is.
They say they want to
focus on praise and thanksgiving and glorifying God. But beware.
Apart from the cry for mercy, it’s all a ruse. The very works of the flesh that the law
condemns and that we struggle with require that all thanksgiving begin daily
with our cry for what no social community is able to give. We need mercy from God. Only then will we be given thankful hearts —
because there is no such thing as thanking God outside of the context of Jesus taking
away our sin.
This is the mercy we
need. The Samaritan who returned to
Jesus did so because he was not welcome in the temple. There was no place for him there. He was still unclean on account of his being
a Samaritan. “Go show yourself to the priests,” Jesus told him. But he could not. So he returned to Jesus. Where else could he go? Like this one Samaritan who was not welcome
to the temple in Jerusalem, we have no way to thank God apart from returning to
Jesus who answers our cry for mercy and cleanses us from all our sin. Because we see a deeper need—a need that leprosy
is merely a picture of — a need that needs to be filled again and again.
And it is filled. Because Jesus is our true High Priest. He himself is our true Temple. Jesus tells us to present ourselves to God as
pure. And so we claim the purity of him
who intercedes on our behalf. Jesus, who
lived the perfect and holy life that we have not also suffered for us the
penalty that our sin deserved. Jesus
knows our sin. And he knows better than
we or anyone else why it is such a big deal.
Because he gave everything to take it away and free us from it. So when he hears our cry for mercy, he shows
it. When he sees us unable to draw near
for shame and embarrassment, he invites us.
When he sees us struggle against what the world tells us to embrace but
that God’s law condemns, he gives us something truly to thank God for. He gives to us the righteousness and purity
that he earned, that first wrapped us in our Baptism. There
is really only one thing that keeps folks from returning to Jesus once Jesus
has been preached. Ingratitude. Plain and simple. But the faith that thanks God is
the faith that receives from God what we need the most. And that is why we can say that saving faith
is thanking faith.
Jesus told the
Samaritan what he tells us: “Your faith has made you well.” In Greek, this is the same word as save — “Your
faith has saved you.” But of
course, faith doesn’t earn a thing. It
isn’t a power that heals. Rather it
receives. And faith that saves, that
makes well, that returns to Jesus to give thanks for all he has done, is the
faith that knows what Jesus will never stop giving. And so as long as we need it, we never stop
asking. Lord have mercy upon us: Thanks
be to God.
Let
us pray: Lord, Your mercy will not leave
me; ever will Your truth abide. Then in
You I will confide. Since Your Word
cannot deceive me, my salvation is to me safe and sure eternally. Amen.
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