Over the next few months, our Epistle readings for each Sunday are drawn from Paul’s letter to the Romans. As such, I thought it would be a good opportunity for us, as the people of God gathered in this place, to consider what this letter has to say to us today. To that end, I will be preaching from the Epistle throughout the summer, into the early fall.
Today’s Epistle is drawn from Romans 1:8-17. I would like to re-read that for you at this time:
First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for all of you, because your faith is proclaimed in all the world. For God is my witness, whom I serve with my spirit in the gospel of his Son, that without ceasing I mention you always in my prayers, asking that somehow by God's will I may now at last succeed in coming to you. For I long to see you, that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to strengthen you-- that is, that we may be mutually encouraged by each other's faith, both yours and mine. I want you to know, brothers, that I have often intended to come to you (but thus far have been prevented), in order that I may reap some harvest among you as well as among the rest of the Gentiles. I am under obligation both to Greeks and to barbarians, both to the wise and to the foolish. So I am eager to preach the gospel to you also who are in Rome. For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, “The righteous shall live by faith.” (Romans 1:8-17 ESV)
Paul is writing to the congregation in Rome, a congregation which, unlike many of those to whom he writes, he has never visited nor met. He knows some of the members of the congregation from his work in other places, but he has never been to Rome itself. He would like to go to Rome, as the first part of our reading for today points out, and he would like to go there for one purpose—to preach the Gospel and so reap the Lord’s harvest.
Preaching the Gospel. That’s really what the Church is about. Culturally, the church has made itself about so many other things. Good morals, wholesome living, strong family relationships, and the like are all fine and good, but the job of the church, the role of the pastor in specific, is to preach the Gospel.
Is that all? Yes, it is, actually. And that’s the part which doesn’t seem to register. After all, many churches today would much rather teach you how to live the victorious life, how to be a good person, how to do this or that, than they would simply preach the Gospel. The Gospel is too simple, you see. It’s too offensive to think that in order to be saved, all that is needed is to believe the Gospel. No ifs, ands, or buts. That’s all there is to it.
So we build complicated systems of rules and regulations on who may or may not be saved. To their credit, our creeds don’t go beyond the basics. Even the lengthy Athanasian Creed, with its dissertation on rightly understanding the Trinity does so only in service of preaching the Gospel. For to preach the wrong Christ, to preach the wrong Gospel, is to preach one’s hearers away from Christ and away from salvation.
But we do like our rules. So we make rules on how Christians should live that have no basis in the Scriptures. Did you know that our Synod once taught that it was sinful to dance, to play cards, and to hold life insurance? We have stores full of how-to and self-help books which give principles for godly living which have some basis in the Scriptures but which, for the most part, avoid the gospel, or, if they do mention it, it’s only in passing. The Gospel’s how you’re saved, but, now that you’re saved, it’s up to you. That’s the theme to a lot of what passes for Christian teaching these days. But what good does being told what to do do for you when you realize the burden of sin? Systems of rules work great, so long as you think you’re in control of the rules, so long as you see yourself on the right side of the ledger. It’s a control thing. Rules and regulations are things we can control, much as the Pharisees built an extensive system of rules onto the plain words of Scripture. By building their rules, they were able to ignore the substance.
In short, we make these systems and rules and regulations because the Gospel is something of which we are ashamed. Ashamed. It’s folly to the Greeks and a stumbling block to the Jews, Paul said in the first chapter of 1 Corinthians. Jesus, the Son of God, born of the virgin Mary, dead on a Roman cross outside the city walls of Jerusalem, in order to make His people absolutely and totally free from sin, death, and the power of the devil. What a scandal! What a public relations nightmare for His disciples! Who could celebrate such a hideous thing as God dying? It’s much easier to celebrate moral teachings, and what we have to do in order to get into God’s favour. Jesus had a term for those who thought they could earn favour with God by their actions or by their own ideas. He called them hypocrites. Actors. But only actors, because He knew that their hearts were not wholly devoted to God.
This scandal of God dying for His sinful people who can’t do a thing to save themselves—that is the heart of the Gospel, you know. Don’t explain it away, don’t try to get around it. God died for you. Jesus died for your sins. That’s the heart of Paul’s message and the heart of what our church ought to be teaching. This message is offensive, shame-causing because it forces you to stare at yourself and at the cross. To stare at yourself in the mirror of the Law, examine yourself against God’s Law, and see that you are the cause for the cross, to stare at yourself and see that you are a bonded sinner, unable to free yourself in even the smallest way. You’re dead. That’s what sin does. It kills.
And that Jesus, dead on the cross, is dead because of you. Because of me. Because that’s what sin does. It kills people dead. Jesus didn’t have to die. He didn’t sin. But He chose to die for His people. He became sin for you so that you can become His righteousness.
Death isn’t the entirety of the Gospel, either. Death is followed by life. The natural order of things is reversed forever in the Gospel. Once, death reigned. People lived, then died. Now, life reigns. People die, then live. Death to life. Jesus died on the cross for you, then was raised to life on the third day, and lives forever. In Baptism, you are connected to that same death-to-life pattern. You go under the water—whether by pouring, sprinkling, or immersion, and you are dead. The Old Adam is drowned. You are brought to new life, raised to new life in Christ. Not through anything you do, but through His Word, His promise. Baptism does what it does because it is the Gospel connected to the water.
As such, don’t be ashamed of your baptism. Even if you don’t remember it, it was where you were put to death with Christ and raised to new life. You are a new creation through Baptism. It really is that important. It’s not just a cute thing to do for babies, it’s not just a symbolic way of following in Jesus’ footsteps. Baptism is death-to-life in action, the Gospel given to you personally, so that you will live forever with Christ.
Don’t be ashamed of the Gospel. Our worship service, likewise, is built not on the premise of us going spiritually and emotionally up to God through our singing and our praises, but on the promise Jesus gave that where “two or three are gathered, there am I in the midst of you.” We worship a God who serves us in the Divine Service with His gifts. Such presence demands our respect and humility; praise, certainly, where warranted, but also quiet and humble contemplation. Think of Moses or Isaiah in the presence of God, how they were so awe-stricken they could hardly speak. So it is with our worship. God is really here. We don’t have to clamour for His attention. He is here and in His Gospel He gives His great gifts to His people. That’s the power-source we have to live our lives as His people throughout the week. Our divine services are designed to reflect the reality that what happens here transforms us, now and forever, even if we don’t necessarily feel any differently.
Don’t be ashamed of the Lord’s Supper. It is that unique blessing we have of joining together as one body around the one altar to partake of our one Lord’s true body and true blood. That oneness means we need to be trained in the faith and examine ourselves, as the Scriptures indicate, before partaking in it—but that only because of how special a gift it is to receive such a meal. Whether a person believes it or not, Jesus is really there, and you either receive Him in faith for the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation, or you receive Him unworthily for judgment.
Faith is really what it all comes back to. One Bible scholar noted that, in a certain sense, the entire book of Romans is an extended meditation on what it means that “The righteous shall live by faith”, as Habakkuk 2 says. In the Word, preached and taught, the Holy Spirit creates faith which receives and lives in the blessings God gives. For the Word is Law, which kills your old ways, which causes you to die to yourselves, and Gospel, which gives life and salvation. It’s the Gospel that does the work, whether in the Word, in Baptism, or in the Lord’s Supper. It’s God’s promises which are the power unto salvation for those who believe. Those promises are there for you, are there for me. Those promises have brought us to a living faith in the waters of Baptism, and continue to build us up in the faith through hearing the Gospel and receiving the Lord’s Supper. Those promises will remain until Christ comes again, and we need no more promises, for we will have the fulfilment, the eternal heavenly feast.
Until that day, God grant that we be strong in His Word and grace, gladly hearing and receiving the gospel, that we too may say with the apostle Paul, “I am not ashamed of the Gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes.” Amen.
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