Trinity 21

John 4:46-54 - Trinity XXI - October 20, 2013

Taking up the Full Armor of God

This morning’s Scripture lessons teach us about faith.  What does faith do?  From whom does it seek help?  How does it respond to God’s word?  What does faith need to stay strong?  And how does it stand up against doubt? 

We will receive an answer to each one of these questions as we consider the account of the nobleman whose son was severely ill and at the point of death.  Let us pray:

Increase my faith, dear Savior,
For Satan seeks by night and day
To rob me of this treasure
And take my hope of bliss away.
But, Lord, with Thee beside me,
I shall be undismayed;
And led by Thy good Spirit,
I shall be unafraid.
Abide with me, O Savior,
A firmer faith bestow;
Then I shall bid defiance
To every evil foe.     Amen. 

Jesus returned to where he had made water into wine.  It had been his first miracle.  It was where his disciples first believed in him.  He who first manifested his glory as the Son of God by fixing -what in the grand scheme of things- looked to be a pretty petty problem would surely solve a much more pressing problem too.  He who had rescued a wedding celebration from turning sour by making sure there was plenty of wine to drink would surely be willing to rescue a young child from dying.   Certainly this Jesus who revealed his power and compassion by helping to maintain the joy of a happy occasion would all the more be willing to reveal his power and compassion by cheering this nobleman on the sad occasion of his son’s illness.  This is the reasoning of faith.  Faith concludes that Jesus will be merciful based on the fact that he has been merciful.  This is our first lesson.  Faith always reasons correctly about God. 

The nobleman had no power to stop death.  He needed help.  And he knew where to seek it.  He sought Jesus.  This is our second lesson.  Faith seeks Jesus who has mercy.  Above all, that is what faith does.  It knows what it needs, and it knows who can help.  This is what weak faith and strong faith have in common.   Faith, if it is true faith at all, finds where Jesus is and cries to him for mercy. 

The nobleman begged Jesus to come to his home and heal his son.  It looks at first like Jesus excoriates him for asking, doesn’t it?  “Unless you people see signs and wonders,” Jesus says, “you will by no means believe.”  But Jesus didn’t say what he said because the man came to him and asked for help.  No.  He said it because the man told Jesus what Jesus needed to do in order to be helpful.  Jesus didn’t need to be told.  He knows what we need better than we do.  But this is the nature of weak faith.  It knows who can help. (Good.  All faith does this remember.)  It seeks him out.  (Good.  True faith must.)  But then -in weakness- it presumes to tell him what to do.  “Lord, come down before my child dies!” 

We do the same thing.  We know that God loves us for Jesus’ sake.  We know that he hears our every prayer.  But then we think we need to tell him exactly what he must do to be the Savior he is.  We give him the conditions he needs to meet.  We tell him what it is that must happen for us to be happy and confident in his grace.  But if we are not careful, such faith begins to hold God accountable to our own expectations rather than to his own promises – until weak faith turns into false faith, and prayer no longer prays, “Thy will be done.”  We need a stronger faith. 

Strong faith is faith that is tried.  It is faith that learns to be disappointed in our own demands, and learns instead to be satisfied in what God promises.  So how does God deal with our weak faith, and misplaced demands?  Well, look at how Jesus dealt with this nobleman.  He knew exactly what was in his heart.  He knew his doubts, and his weaknesses.  But this didn’t stop Jesus from giving him what he needed to believe.  He showed kindness.  He increased his faith by giving to him what faith holds onto.  He gave him his word: “Go your way; your son lives.”   

Jesus gave him nothing else but what his faith needed.  The man believed Jesus’ word and went his way.  This is our third lesson.  Faith takes Jesus at his word.  God’s word strengthens our faith when everything else makes it weaker. 

Having left Jesus, the nobleman apparently spent the night in Cana and left for home the next morning, since Capernaum wasn’t that far away and it wasn’t until the next day that he got there.  So he lodged for the night and slept.  No hurry.  He had God’s word.  All doubts were allayed.  He rested sure.  But doubts come, don’t they?  In the morning light as he set course for home, the day was evil.  Imagine yourself in his position as you travel back to see your son.  You have God’s word.  Yeah.  But that was yesterday.  In the meantime, the devil attacks you, planting doubt, reminding you of your unworthiness, reminding you of how close to death your boy was, leaving you to wonder whether what you placed your trust in yesterday is still true today.

Jesus gave him his word.  But in the event recorded for us, we see that Jesus giving his word is not a one-time occurrence.  He confirms his word with further reports.  And this brings us to our fourth lesson.  What does faith need to stay strong?  It needs God’s word – again, and again.  Faith needs to keep hearing it.  Otherwise it will sink into the same old doubts and fears and begin to entertain the idea that Jesus’ word is insufficient. 

As the nobleman was going down to his home, his servants ran up to him and confirmed what Jesus had said:  “Your son lives!” they cried.  What a joy to hear!  Jesus had chastised him for asking for a sign, for insisting that he go down with him to his house.  But as it turns out, Jesus offered a sign and wonder after all.  He healed his son.  The nobleman inquired to make sure that this report was consistent with what Jesus had spoken.  It was.  Yesterday at the seventh hour.  It was exactly as Jesus had said. 

Jesus confirms our faith too not only with continual reports, but with signs.  He gives to us not only his word of promise preached, but he confirms these promises with his sacraments.  He attaches his word of forgiveness to water, whereby he joins us to his own death and resurrection.  And if we have been baptized into Christ, then we have put on Christ.  And the righteousness that is ours by faith is ours first because our baptism gave it to us.  He attaches his word to bread and wine so that whatever doubts that plague us are allayed by the fact that Jesus really is with us.  He is with us giving to us his very body and blood that confirms what he has spoken: that our sins truly are forgiven and that eternal life is ours.  Both Baptism and the Lord's Supper serve as signs by directing our confidence back to Jesus word.  Through these, signs Jesus abides with us, and departs with us to our homes. 

I have a fifth point.  It is intended to answer a question that I have really already addressed: how does faith stand up against doubt?  We know the answer.  God’s word.  But what about God’s word?  What do we do with it?  How do we use it?  In order to answer this question, I’d like to take a look at our Epistle lesson from Ephesians 6 to see how God equips us to overcome all the doubts we face. 

“Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.”  

The day is evil.  It is when the doubts arise.  You cannot be strong in the Lord apart from knowing the power of salvation in the gospel.  The devil wants us to fall.  He is wily.  He wants us to deny God’s word, which he knows well.  The most basic attack that the devil levels against our faith in the gospel is the attack on the truthfulness of the Bible word.  That is why the most basic piece of armor is the belt of truth.  God’s word, that is, Holy Scripture, is true.  It cannot deceive or mislead us.  The Apostles and prophets having been inspired by the Holy Spirit, it is inerrant and infallible.  It is true not because the gospel is true.  It is true because God is the author of the Bible, and God is true.  The gospel persuades us of this.  Certainly.  But if the gospel is to be a trustworthy message of salvation, we must first know that the Bible is a trustworthy book.  The belt of truth keeps all our armor in place.  We buckle it tight and stand firm on the reliability of the biblical witness. 

The second piece of armor that defends us is the breastplate of righteousness.  The breastplate protects the heart.  The devil attacks your heart.  He attacks your heart by accusing you of the very sins he tempts you to commit.  You are a sinner.  You lust.  You hold grudges.  You criticize people in your heart.  You take God’s word lightly.  You think of yourself when you should be thinking of others.  You know it.  The devil knows it too.  He wants to contend with you – just the two of you.  But if that’s how it is, you’ll lose.  Because the righteousness of your heart is nothing but sin. 

But your breastplate is Christ.  He is your righteousness.  His life is holy.  He lived it as your Substitute under the law.  By his death, he bore even the most secret sins of your heart as God judged them once and for all.  All accusations have been swallowed by Jesus who pled guilty in our place.  Your sin is forgiven.  Christ’s holy life – his righteousness – is yours. 

Your heart believes it.  You hold it sacred.  But your heart is weak.  Within your heart wrestle both the reality of guilt and the reality of absolution.  But you don’t trust in the fortitude of your heart.  You put on your armor.  As St. John says in his first epistle: “if our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and knows all things.” (1 Jn. 3:20).  And God teaches you what he knows.  He protects your heart with the breastplate of Christ’s righteousness. 

We shod our feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace.  We have peace with God through the blood of Christ.  Our road to heaven is long, but all the way we know that God is not against us, but for us.  No struggle with sin can undo the peace God gives you.  We confess the peace we have with God by living at peace with one another, knowing that if Christ has borne my sin, he has borne his and hers as well.  We seek to be reconciled with those who have harmed us and those whom we have hurt.  Christians seek to reconcile, and to forgive as they are forgiven.  He who shucks the sandals of peace, shirks his whole coat of armor and denies the faith.

That's what the devil wants.  He wants us to deny the faith by how we live and by what we believe.  He doesn’t want us to live at peace, because he wants us to die without peace with God.  He hurls every temptation that burns hot in our soul.  He hurls every accusation of guilt that hits the nail on the head.  And so we, above all, the Apostle says, take the shield of faith to quench every fiery dart of the wicked one.  Faith that saves is faith that embraces Christ.  And so the shield of faith is nothing other than to place Christ before you and to say, “Here is my righteousness; here is my holiness; here is the life I have lived; here is my peace with God.”  It is to defend yourself with what was made yours in Baptism by the power of God’s word. 

Christ is our Head.  He who died our death has risen.   He cannot die anymore.  He is our Head and the Savior of the body.  We are his body?  Where he goes, we go.  Our salvation is secure in him.  This truth serves as our Helmet.  Though the body be pierced with sadness here on earth, though it looked shriveled and small, our Head and Savior remains untouchable.  He gives us our health today, and shall raise us from death on the last day. 

God’s word fights our battle for us.  That is why it is called the Sword of the Spirit.  It is the only offensive weapon we possess.  Everything else is defensive.  But everything else gets its power from the word.  The Sword of the Spirit does all the work.  We confess.  We preach.  God does the work.  Our worries, our programs, our clever methods don’t do the trick.  If they did, then Jesus would have given them to us.  But he didn’t.  He gave us his word.  He tells us to abide in it – to find our life in it – stake our safety and protection on it.  And when we do, when we wield this word, here and at home, and base all our prayers upon it, our faith is strengthened, and like the nobleman’s household believed, those around us benefit too. 

In Jesus’ name, Amen.