Prince of Peace and Christ Our Savior Lutheran Churches                                  December 28, 2003

Pastor Steve Geiger                                                                                      First Sunday after Christmas

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Hebrews 2:10-18

10 In bringing many sons to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the author of their salvation perfect through suffering. 11 Both the one who makes men holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers. 12 He says,

“I will declare your name to my brothers;

in the presence of the congregation I will sing your praises.”

13 And again,

“I will put my trust in him.”

And again he says,

“Here am I, and the children God has given

me.”

14 Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil— 15 and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. 16 For surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham’s descendants. 17 For this reason he had to be made like his brothers in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. 18 Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.

 

First Suffering—Then Salvation                                                        Hebrews 2:10-18

            1.  He became like us

            2.  He came to help

 

How was your Christmas?  Have you heard that just a few times in the last few days?

 

During the weeks that come before, it’s “Happy Holidays” or “Have a Merry Christmas.”  During the days that follow, “So, how was it?”

 

Not long ago I was visiting a long-term care facility—a nursing home—and I asked the residents, who were very, very old, how their Christmases were, Christmases a long, long time ago.  “Do you remember what you got for Christmas?” I asked?

 

One lady—a doll.  An older man?  A little trumpet.  Then, out of the corner of my eye I saw a face begin to speak that most often is silent, and in the past when lips have moved, the sounds are almost impossible to hear.  This time I heard.  “My mother died on Christmas Eve.”

 

I wasn’t sure I heard her right.  “Your mother died on Christmas Eve?”  Her tears answered my voice.

 

How was her Christmas?  How strange it would sound if she had said, “It was perfect.”  So much suffering, and it was a perfect Christmas.

 

Just as strange it may sound to hear our heavenly Father say that he felt it was perfect that Jesus should be made complete as our Savior through suffering.

 

Jesus suffering, and the Father feels that this is just the right thing?  It’s not that the Father feels so happy that there’s suffering in the world.  But since humans by their disobedience brought such pain to this place, a Father who loves you and wants you to be freed from suffering knows that for Jesus to suffer too is ideal, the very best.

 

To help us understand, God tells us a little more about us and Jesus.  He tells us Jesus and we are the same in a very special way.  We have the same Father.  We Christians are sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of us who have been baptized into Christ have clothed ourselves with Christ.  Jesus, who has existed forever, is also a son of God—eternally begotten of the Father.  While this may blow our minds, God assures us that we are brothers.

 

Because we are brothers in this mysterious, beautiful way, it makes perfect sense that we experience the same things.  It made perfect sense that God, who led many sons into glory, would make complete the author of their salvation through suffering.  We, his sons, suffer.  So Jesus, our brother, also suffers.

 

Strangely, our brother Jesus, who came to suffer with us and for us, isn’t ashamed of us.  We talk sometimes about the black sheep of the family.  We can be wrongly embarrassed because someone in our family has done something wrong.

 

Think of how many reasons Jesus has to be ashamed of us.  Even as Christians, we have a sinful flesh.  We will do things that we know are wrong.  We try not to think about others who are caught in sin and don’t ever want to bring it up because that might cause us trouble.  We get lazy in our Bible study.  We complain about all the things we want but don’t have instead of thanking God for all the blessings that are ours.  Jesus shouldn’t even admit that he knows us.

 

Yet he’s proud to be our brother.  And he can’t wait to share with us his joy.

 

One of the great blessings of having a family is having people who want to share their joy with you.  On Christmas Day evening, about 8:00 p.m., I got a phone call from North Carolina.  My brother, my sister, my mother, my father, my sister-in-law . . . they were lighting candles on a cake for my mom, three days late . . . but they called me up so I could sing happy birthday with them.

 

Jesus is so proud to be your brother that he calls you up when he has a happy moment to share.  What brings him happiness is the goodness of God. 

 

The writer to the Hebrews quotes words from King David in Psalm 22, but these were prophetic words, words reflecting the thoughts of our suffering Savior.  In Psalm 22 Jesus speaks of people piercing his hands and feet.  Jesus describes that moment when soldiers gambled for his clothes.  Jesus prays that his Father would rescue him.  Then Jesus says, “I will announce your name to my brothers; in the middle of the assembly I will praise you in song.”

 

In the middle of suffering, Jesus looked forward to sharing with you the goodness of God, goodness certain even when you’re hanging on a cross and your last possession has been torn from you. 

 

Goodness certain even when you are Isaiah and you’ve just been told that Assyria will destroy the people of Israel.  Isaiah is quoted next by the writer to the Hebrews.  As his heart could have pounded with dread and with fear, first Isaiah, and then also Jesus, confess, “I will put my trust in the Lord.”  Literally, I will wait for him.

 

Isaiah, knowing that he would see destruction.  Isaiah, knowing that he would experience pain.  Isaiah, perhaps not knowing that he would be walled up in a city with armies surrounding, armies that had just finished off Lachish, a city to the west.  Isaiah, perhaps not knowing that he would be under siege by soldiers who had just finished skinning Israelites alive, who took captured Jews and drove them, from bottom to top, onto a sharp stick—impaled, with death most painful.  The specifics unknown, but trouble soon to strike—known.

 

Jesus, his pains would be even worse.  Himself the victim.  Himself cursed.

 

Yet Jesus and Isaiah, with confidence miraculous said, “I will wait for the Lord.”  Suffering, yes, but confident that the Lord would bring victory and relief in the end.

 

Are we always so confident?

 

Things far less severe can go wrong in our lives, but instead of speaking with calm, “I will wait for the Lord,” we look at our clocks and wonder where the Lord is.  We will suffer some illness or experience some loss, but instead of remembering God’s reminder that we will have sufferings but that they can’t compare to the coming glory, we will imagine that God promised we’d have no suffering, so that we begin to feel he’s breaking a promise, to blame, no longer loving.  Is something hurting you right now?  Are you calm and rejoicing, “For the Lord I will wait?”  Or are you impatient and bitter and full of complaint?

 

How we doubt.  How God should take away his promises.  How Jesus should turn on us.

 

How strange to hear his attitude toward us.  Listen.  Jesus says, “Here am I, and the children God has given me.”

 

More words from Hebrews.  A quote from Isaiah, who was going to wait for the Lord, even though life would become most tragic.  Who was going to wait for the Lord with his kids.

 

If there’s anything parents try to do, they try to protect their children from danger.  Here, Isaiah knows that there will be suffering, yet he doesn’t see the suffering as danger.  He says, “I will wait for the Lord.”  And he says, “Lord, I’m going to wait for you with my kids.”  The kids God had given him.  So confident was he in the plan of the Almighty that even if the plan would include suffering, he would rejoice to experience it, and with his own children.

 

Jesus confesses the same.  He looks at you, his brothers—fellow sons of God, by faith through baptism—and he sees you as his own kids.  In the midst of suffering, he says to you, “We don’t need to be afraid of this, dear children.”

 

Why not? 

 

To help us understand why we no longer need to fear suffering, Jesus points us to his own experience with suffering.

 

Look, he says.  See how I willingly took on flesh and blood, becoming like you, so that I could suffer.  In my suffering I actually helped you!

 

Jesus did help us through suffering.  He helped us in regard to the one who hurt us.  The devil hurt us.  The devil tricked the human race into doubting God.  Eve and Adam did it in front of a tree.  We do it in the face of suffering.  Jesus took on flesh and blood so that he could suffer but not doubt, so that he could die, and by his death he crushed the devil, the one who had the strength of death.  The devil, who had in his hands the destructive power connected with death.  The devil, whose power at death is his ability to accuse.  He knows the sins you’ve committed.  He can’t wait to accuse you before God.

 

While we live he persuades us sin is attractive.  At our deaths he plans to use those very sins against us.  By dying for our sins, however, Jesus undid this wicked, Satanic plan.  But by his death Jesus rendered inoperative the devil.  Made him not work anymore.  Took the batteries out.

 

As I was driving around the day after Christmas, I saw a remote-controlled miniature Hum-Vee car.  It needs batteries.  With batteries it was crashing into a pop can.  Without batteries it’s still a remote-controlled miniature Hum-Vee car, but it doesn’t do anything.

 

The devil still exists, but by his death Jesus took the batteries out.  Satan tried to get Jesus to doubt God, to get Jesus to give him an opportunity to accuse.  It didn’t work.  Jesus remained convinced that even if suffering was God’s will for him, that would be OK.  Jesus didn’t interrupt his walk to the cross.  Jesus drank the entire cup of suffering, the hell you and I deserved, and he died.  He died for your sins.  Of what can Satan now accuse you?  Then he came back to life, showing that death has been conquered, that suffering is nothing to fear when you know that resurrection is on the other side.

 

The one who hurt you by tempting you to sin . . . the one who hopes to accuse you and now tries to tell you that all is lost, that death must frighten you—Jesus took his batteries out.

 

Jesus helped in connection with the one who hurt you.  He also helped in connection with the one whom you hurt.

 

To doubt, to disobey is to make God our enemy.  We would get no less punishment by reminding God that the devil started it.  We are responsible, and we have no power to undo what we’ve done.

 

Jesus had the power.  A faithful high priest.  Someone who stands between you and God.  Someone you can trust.  Who gave his Father his body as a sacrifice.  Who willingly died the death we deserved.  When it was all finished, the judge had a smile.  The judge was smiling when he thought of you.  In connection with your sins.  It’s not that he just accidentally forgot about them but might remember some day.  He saw all your sins and is smiling because Jesus suffered the punishment for them all.

 

Jesus took the batteries out of your enemy.  Jesus put a smile on the face of your judge.  But what about you?  What does Jesus do for you?

 

You may say, “He’s already done for me everything that I need.”  You’re right.  How amazing, though, that Jesus wants to do something more.

 

Jesus says, “I know that you will still be tested.  I know you will still suffer and be tempted to doubt, to become impatient . . .  you’ll be tempted not to want to wait for the Lord.”

 

So, Jesus says, I’m going to give you something more.  I’m going to help you when you’re tempted.  I understand how hard it is to suffer.  But I also understand the joy of waiting for the Lord, confident in his will, rising from dead.  So, when you are being tested, I will run to help you by reminding you of these truths.  Like a doctor whose beeper goes off, who runs out the door, flies into his car, races to the hospital, to do what only he can do to help someone in trouble . . . so Jesus will run to you when you are suffering, to share with you these facts: he knows pain.  He knows death.  But he knows that pain and death are nothing to be feared.

 

You will know pain—maybe even a tough Christmas.  You will know death, maybe even on Christmas Eve.  But know that in Jesus, pain and death—all suffering—is nothing to be feared.

 

Because Jesus became one of us.  Because Jesus came to help us with the one who hurt us and with the one we had hurt.

 

First suffering, then salvation.

 

Amen.