It's Not About You! It's About Christ for You!
Grace and peace to you from God our
Father and the Lord Jesus Christ!
A man, positive that he’s done
enough good works to enter heaven, stands in line for the final judgment. Coincidentally, Mother Teresa is one spot
ahead. The man then hears God saying,
“Frankly, Teresa, I expected a whole lot more out of you.” (A Jeff Pulse sermon opener cited by Peter J.
Scaer.)
Of course, like all such jokes with
the judgment or entrance into the pearly gates as its theme, this one is also
apocryphal. It’s never going to
happen. But it does contain an element
of truth. There isn’t anyone, even
Mother Teresa, who is going to make it into heaven based upon good works or
personal merits. All our righteousness
is like filthy rags. Jesus says as much
in our text, Luke 17:10: “So you also, when you have done all that you were
commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our
duty.”
Pretty simple, but that doesn’t make
it east to accept, does it? How would
you like to work for a boss like that? One,
who in essence, tells you, “Don’t be expecting any ‘attaboys’ from me. You’re only doing your job. You’re barely meeting the minimum
requirements.” Would you feel
appreciated? Would you feel like a
valued employee? Being in a sort of
middle-management position at Wal-Mart I get to hear complaints about this kind
of thing way too often: “Management doesn’t care about us.” “The only time they ever say anything is when
I mess up; they never tell me when I’ve done a good job.”
Honestly, there are some workers who
don’t deserve a whole lot of praise. Still,
given today’s workplace dynamics, I can’t imagine any good manager coming right
out and saying to his or her best employees, “So you also, when you have done
all that you were commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done
what was our duty.’”
But what makes this verse doubly
shocking is who speaks it. It’s not the
manager of a modern business. It’s not a
king addressing his subjects. It’s not
even a master addressing one of his household slaves. It’s Jesus, speaking to His disciples,
teaching them about sin and temptation, forgiveness and faith, salvation and judgment
day, and how they all work together.
Jesus launches the first salvo: “Temptations
to sin are sure to come, but woe to the one through whom they come! It would be better for him if a millstone
were hung around his neck and he were cast into the sea than that he should
cause one of these little ones to sin.”
It’s a two-fold announcement. A bitter pill to swallow. The word translated “temptation to sin” is skandala. We get the word “scandal” from it; something
offensive, a stumbling block to faith. If
you offend someone by your witness, it’s so serious a sin that it would be
better to be thrown into the sea wearing a millstone necklace. And then, Jesus adds this little caveat: “By
the way, it’s impossible that you won’t offend.”
This will play out publicly in the
lives of the disciples. Peter will deny Christ
three times and later must be rebuked by Paul for mixing works back into the
Gospel. Or how about Judas who will
betray his Master? And then there’s the
whole bunch of disciples who will hide in fear after the crucifixion—refusing
to believe what Jesus had taught them, refusing to believe the women who return
from the empty tomb. Clearly, they will
be guilty of an offensive witness that could lead many astray. Clearly, according to Jesus, they will each
earn a fate worse than a terrible watery death.
And if that wasn’t enough, Jesus
piles it on: “Pay attention to yourselves!
If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him, and if
he sins against you seven times in the day, and turns to you seven times,
saying, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive him.”
Another tough bit of Law. Why, it’s difficult enough to forgive someone
once or twice when they’ve sinned against you… but seven times? Lifelong friendships are known to fall apart
after a single transgression or a couple of perceived transgressions over a
period of time. It happens! The ability and desire to forgive a
transgressor repeatedly is beyond what you or I are able to muster.
Jesus’ disciples apparently realize
their shortcomings and take the consequences seriously. So they say to the Lord, “Increase our
faith!” They reason that with more
faith, they will be up to the challenge.
They’ll be able to live without offense.
They’ll be able to forgive. They
just need more faith. Jesus replies, “If
you had faith like a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry
tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”
So, if the disciples just had faith
the size of a dinky little mustard seed, they could do something more spectacular
than forgive and not offend? This leaves
the disciples with one of two conclusions: either they don’t have much faith (because
they can’t move trees by talking to them), or else they misunderstand
faith. We’ll get back to that later on.
Like everyone else since Adam and
Eve, the disciples are frail children of dust, a dangerous combination of egocentric
sinner and self-righteous hypocrite. So
Jesus seeks to strip them of any trust in themselves. Where they’ve thought they’re doing pretty
good at toeing the line, He tells them that they haven’t even come close. And then, He delivers the knockout punch:
“Will any one of you who has a servant plowing or keeping sheep say to him when
he has come in from the field, ‘Come at once and recline at table’? Will he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare
supper for me, and dress properly, and serve me while I eat and drink, and
afterward you will eat and drink’? Does
he thank the servant because he did what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you
were commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our
duty.’”
Now, that’s a blow to the old
ego. Let’s say, for argument’s sake,
that the disciples are to excel. They
manage through heroic efforts to live long lives in which they give no offense,
and that they forgive everyone no matter how much they’ve been hurt. Let’s say that they make proper use of faith
and even move a mulberry tree or two to the sea. It’s not going to happen, but let’s just say
it does. What then? Do they deserve extra praise for going above
and beyond the call of duty? Is the Lord
especially pleased that they’ve done such an excellent job?
No.
Even if the disciples do everything that they’re supposed to—if they’ve
kept every last bit of the Law, then—finally!—they’ve only done what they were
supposed to be doing all along. They’ve
only achieved the level of unworthy servants.
They’re finally meeting minimum expectations.
Do you see what Jesus tells His
disciples? To them, pure and holy
obedience of God’s Law is so impossible it seems that any improvement must
count for something. They suppose that
when someone is doing better than they were before, the Lord must be
impressed. But Jesus says otherwise:
When someone keeps all of God’s Law perfectly, when they have faith that can
move a mulberry tree, when they’ve forgiven every wrong done by someone else,
they’ve finally done the minimum of what God has been telling them all along. That’s a tough standard. Perfection is satisfactory, and nothing less
comes close. Everything else merits
worse than the millstone.
Is there any hope for the
disciples? Yes. But first, let’s bring us into this
sermon. You and I expect people to do
their jobs. We’d don’t give fist bumps
to the cashier for giving us the correct change at the checkout counter. We expect the correct change. Police officers don’t generally take the time
to thank citizens for obeying the law.
If they pull you over, it’s probably because you’ve done something
wrong. Do you get the idea? When people do what they’re supposed to do,
that doesn’t merit extra praise or a party.
They’re only doing their duty.
You and I have jobs to do, different
vocations that the Lord gives to us: employee, boss, parent, child, husband,
wife, student, teacher, congregational member, citizen, etc. With each of those vocations comes a set of
requirements, expectations, things to do—a lot of requirements, expectations,
and things to do. And frankly, even
though we expect other people just to quietly do their duty, we sure don’t mind
some recognition and appreciation for all that we do.
But here’s where the rubber meets
the road. When we figure we’ve done a
pretty good job of being a Christian, we expect that that meets with the Lord’s
approval. If we’ve done a little bit
better at keeping the rules, we expect the Lord to take notice of our success. But it is really success?
The Lord warned His disciples
against bringing offense. As a
Christian, you are called to live a life that serves as a witness of God’s
goodness and mercy. Any sin that you
commit, then, has the potential of giving a bad witness, of causing offense to
others; and it is certainly already an offense before almighty God.
So, do you ever grow impatient? Angry?
Could you ever be caught looking at something you’re not supposed
to? Doing something that you shouldn’t
be doing? Do you ever participate in
off-color humor, just to fit in? Ever
nod approvingly at some sort of gossip or prejudice that’s being
expressed? All of this brings offense
and could cause someone to stumble.
Therefore, the Lord says, for such sins it would be better for you to
take a plunge in a millstone lifejacket.
Now, note this: Jesus doesn’t say
that, if you offend less, that you’ll get a smaller millstone. You’re either sinless or you’re not, pretty
good is not good enough. God doesn’t
grade on a curve. In fact, if you live a
perfect life where you cause no sinful offense to anyone, what does it
mean? It means that you’ve finally done
what you were supposed to be doing all along.
It means no millstone; but it also means no special achievement,
either. In fact, you’ve finally
qualified to be called an unworthy servant, nothing more.
The Lord warned His disciples to
forgive, even forgive the same sinner seven times in a day. But forgiveness doesn’t come easy to the Old
Adam. We bear grudges far too easily,
and it’s pretty natural for us to remember the sin and use it to our advantage
later on. And we often mouth words of
forgiveness even while we still resent the sin. Now, imagine someone sinning against you not
once, but seven times in the same day!
Each time, they say they’re sorry.
What does the Lord require of you?
What does He say about such a situation?
“Forgive him seven times, and more
if necessary. And remember: if you do
forgive him seven times, it doesn’t make you a super Christian. It means that you’ve finally done what you
were supposed to be doing all along.
You’ve finally reached the level of unworthy servant, nothing more.”
Do you see what the Lord tells us
here? His Law demands the
impossible—obedience that we cannot do.
And even if we did the impossible, it wouldn’t be anything special. It would only be our duty. No wonder the disciples said, “Increase our
faith!” So we should also pray.
But be careful here, too, because so
many misunderstand faith. Sadly, many
teach that faith is something that enables you to do whatever miracles you desire
and that as your faith increases you can actually stop sinning in this
life. But if that’s the case, then faith
is something that teaches you to rely on you, not Christ—as long as you believe
enough in Jesus, you can use His power to do what you want. Maybe you can be perfect, show yourself to be
a worthy servant before God.
But all of that’s wrong. It misunderstands faith in a way that takes
the focus off of Christ and puts it onto you.
When that happens, you’re a most unworthy servant indeed. In our text, Jesus is doing His best to strip
from you any sort of hope that would fail you, so that you might trust in Him
alone. The faith He gives isn’t going to
do the opposite and teach you to trust in your own works and power of
believing.
It’s not about you! It’s about Christ for you! Properly understood, faith is God’s gift to
you, and faith is what believes the Word and all the promises of God. And it is by this faith that you are
delivered from the millstone around the neck and everlasting condemnation. Faith believes what God says about His Law
and the consequences of breaking it. Old
Adam says, “I’ll show God that I’m good enough.” Faith, on the other hand, acknowledges the
brutal truth. By faith, you confess, “I
am a sinner, for I have failed to keep God’s Law. For that, I deserve God’s temporal and
eternal punishment. Even if I kept God’s
Law perfectly, I would only be doing what was expected of me; therefore, my
far-from-perfect works do nothing to save me.”
In other words, faith acknowledges the truth that you are sinful and
need a Savior, as Scripture declares. So
moved to contrition and repentance, your faith delights to hear what the Bible
says about your Savior, Jesus Christ. Hear
this Gospel now, that your faith might be strengthened.
Jesus was the worthy Servant for
you. As the Son of God become flesh, He
kept God’s Law and obeyed His Father’s will perfectly. He did this for you in order to make up for
your sins, to credit you with His perfect obedience. Faith trusts and rejoices that Jesus became
flesh and lived a perfect life for you.
The worthy Servant became the suffering Servant for the sins of the
world. Rather than hang the millstone
around your neck for your sins and offenses, God the Father hung that weight of
sin on the shoulders of His Son as He hung upon the cross. Because Jesus took your guilt and suffered
your sin, He now declares you “not guilty,” forgiven. And because He is the Lamb who was slain, He
is worthy of more than recognition for His holiness. He is worthy of all power, riches, honor,
wisdom, strength, glory and blessing (Revelation 5:12).
But that’s not all folks! The Lord doesn’t stop there. Risen again from the dead, He comes to you to
increase your faith. Remember His story
in the text, where he speaks of the master who rightly expects his servant to
serve him a meal. According to the Law
of God, you’re less than an unworthy servant.
Even if you do not sin, you’ve only done your duty. You haven’t earned the right to sit at the
table while your master waits upon you.
However, according to the Gospel, that’s exactly what Jesus does! According to the Gospel, you’re far more than
a servant. You are His beloved child
whom He’ll feed and nurture now and forever.
Through His means of grace, the Lord gives and
maintains your faith. He enables you to
do what you could not do yourselves.
Things like believe, confess, enter heaven, speak the truth, rebuke the
sinner, and forgive the penitent. Here
in His house, your Master serves you. As
He washed His disciples’ feet and pronounced them clean, He washes you and
pronounces you clean in the water and Word of Holy Baptism. He welcomes you to His Supper and feeds you
His body and blood for the forgiveness of sin and to strengthen you faith. He speaks words of healing as He forgives
your sins in His absolution.
It’s not about you! It’s about Christ for you! There is, then, no room for pride which
would try to earn points toward heaven.
Nor need you sink into despair because of your sin. No, you need not fear being unworthy, for the
Master makes you worthy, declaring you to be His beloved child. More than seven times, but again and again He
declares this gracious good news: You
are forgiven for all of your sins.
In
the name of the Father and of the Son and the Holy
Spirit. Amen.
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