The Church still forces its way into the world

Sermon for the Festival of the Reformation

Revelation 14:6-7  +  Matthew 11:12-15

On this Reformation Day, we turn our thoughts to the Gospel from Matthew 11 and make some applications to the past, present, and future of the Christian Church.

Those four short verses from Matthew 11 that you heard today are somewhat cryptic because they’re somewhat figurative. At the time Jesus spoke these words, John the Baptist was in prison, Jesus had just praised him as the greatest among the prophets. But He had also just noted that “the least in the kingdom of heaven” was greater than John. Why? Because John would not be around to see the kingdom of heaven coming in full force into the world.

John marked the end of an era. He was the last of the prophets to foretell the future coming of God’s kingdom into the world through the reign of Christ the King. He wouldn’t live to see Christ ruling as King from the cross, or risen from the dead, or beginning His reign at the right hand of God at His ascension, or the King’s sending of His Holy Spirit into the world to build His kingdom at the Day of Pentecost. No, John didn’t get to be a part of the New Testament era, whereas you and I and all believers since do get to be a part of it.

Still, although the kingdom of heaven hadn’t yet come in full force, it had been coming in force since the days of John, when he first began preaching his baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, announcing that the Christ had come and was already in their midst.

From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven is forcing its way, and forceful people are laying hold of it. The word we’ve translated “forcing its way” is one of three possible translations. God’s kingdom either forces its way, or exerts force or violence, or suffers force or violence. “Forcing its way” fits best with the parallel passage in Luke’s Gospel, where he explains how it’s “forcing its way,” in that the Gospel is being relentlessly and forcefully preached, in spite of opposition, doing “violence” to the norms of the day and to the false religion that had nearly overtaken the Church of Israel at that time. Even as the Church was being persecuted, even as John the Baptist sat in prison and was about to be put to death, Christ’s Church, the kingdom of heaven, was actually taking over, forcing its way into the world. The kingdom of God was actually winning, although it appeared to be losing.

Like the prophet Elijah before him, who faced strong opposition from King Ahab and from Queen Jezebel and from all the false prophets who were leading the people astray at that time, John the Baptist would preach to the people of Israel during times of opposition and apathy within Israel. John was a prophet who would have a powerful impact on the people, as God’s instrument for forcing His kingdom into this world that is under Satan’s control, a prophet who would preach seriously, earnestly: Repent! Your time is short! This is no time to sit back and relax. There’s no more time for business as usual. Because the Christ is here! And if you squander this opportunity, this chance to come into the kingdom of heaven through faith in Jesus the Christ, you will be sorry!

And forceful people were seizing the kingdom of heaven, were laying hold of it. What does that mean? Again, Luke explains: People are “forcing their way” into the kingdom of heaven, seizing it in the face of opposition, laying hold of it, and not letting go, people like the tax collectors and harlots and sinners of all kinds, who had once been alienated from the kingdom of God because of their impenitence, but were now eagerly rushing into it due to the force or the power of the Gospel; people like the Gentiles—the Canaanite woman, the Samaritan woman, or the centurion. Jesus is referring to the serious men and women in Israel who recognized: This is it! I can’t go on as I have been. I must change. I must turn my thoughts, no longer to a comfortable life in this world, but to the life that is with God. They laid hold of the kingdom of God by repentance and faith in Christ Jesus.

It’s a good thing for the Church to force its way into the world, and for forceful people to lay hold of it. In fact, Christians always get into trouble when the Church is at ease, when life for the Christian is comfortable and easy. St. Augustine saw that long ago, long before the Reformation. During the days of horrible torture and persecution of Christians, the Church suffered violence, but the Church also forced its way into the world. It held firmly to the sound doctrine of the apostles. And forceful people laid hold of the faith to the point that they were willing to be tortured and thrown to the lions rather than deviate even a bit from the confession of Christ. But then what happened? After Constantine turned the Roman empire into a friend of the Church in 312 AD instead of her enemy, it took less than a hundred years, according to Augustine, who lived at that time, for the Church to grow soft, complacent, comfortable, tolerant of sin, and willing to compromise in order to avoid even a little suffering. Then Rome itself fell, and Augustine interprets it as a warning and wake up call to the Church that had declined significantly when the times grew peaceful, when the Church grew comfortable, and when Christians no longer had to lay hold of God’s kingdom and cling to it for dear life.

You want to talk about forceful men laying hold of the kingdom of God? Try questioning the doctrine and the politics of the pope in 16^th century Europe, publishing 95 Theses (on this day in 1517) that you know will anger the people who have the power to excommunicate you, banish you from your country, and burn you at the stake. Try being summoned before the powerful Cardinal Cajetan, as Martin Luther was in 1518, threatened with excommunication and being burned at the stake as a heretic. And then summoned again to stand before the Emperor, Charles V, 500 years ago this year, with the threat of death hanging over his head. And then living under constant threat for the rest of your life, for another 25 years, hearing reports of other Christians being burned at the stake—Christians who believed the very same things as you. Imagine being the Electors of Germany in 1530 who had to defy their elected Emperor in order to continue to practice their Lutheran faith. Yes, it took forceful men to lay hold of the kingdom of God at the time of the Reformation, true heroes of the faith who led the way in rejecting the darkness of Rome’s doctrine and laying hold of the core teaching of Scripture: That sinners are justified by grace alone, through faith alone, for the sake of Christ alone.

But those who weren’t the main characters of the Reformation story were also heroes and “forceful people” in their own way, the members of the churches who heard the voice of their Good Shepherd in the preaching of Luther and who were willing to abandon centuries’ worth of traditions and allegiances and family ties in order to follow Christ faithfully.

And that’s what this forcefulness is about: following Christ, no matter what it means for your earthly life and wellbeing. Standing on the Scriptural truth that you are saved by faith alone in Christ Jesus and not by any other means or by any other merit. Standing on His Word in the face of powerful “experts” who assure you that they know better. Living according your conscience, informed by God’s Word, and not according to the mandates of earthly rulers. And being ready to suffer for it.

For a time in our country, Lutherans enjoyed relative safety and security in being Lutherans, in being Christians. Christianity, at least in a generic, external form, was celebrated here and recognized as something good, something right, something beneficial. American culture, more or less, used to line up with Christian values. You weren’t tarred and feathered for proclaiming that marriage is only between a man and a woman, or for recognizing God’s creation, or for acknowledging a male as a male and a female as a female. You didn’t even get in trouble for asserting that Christ Jesus is the only way to salvation. Not everyone believed it, but it didn’t make you a target to say it.

But that was a historical aberration. And as result, we grew soft, complacent in our religion, just as Americans in general have grown soft and comfortable and fearful of anything that might disturb our comfort. We began to think that the Christian life on earth is supposed to be this way, comfortable, easy, popular, acceptable—and that compromise is better than suffering.

Those days are over. God is calling on Christians once again to renew our zeal, to become forceful again. Not violent against our neighbors. Not forceful in fighting for our rights. But forceful about holding onto and holding out the kingdom of heaven, forceful about clinging to Christ and His Word in the face of opposition. Forceful about confessing the faith once for all delivered to the saints to a world that will hate what it hears, but it needs to hear it, so that the forceful few of the elect who remain to be converted may be converted and enter the kingdom of heaven.

How can we be so forceful? Because the Son of God has shed His blood for us and has taken up His life again to defend us against all sin, all guilt, all the devil’s accusations, and all the world’s fury.

How can we be so forceful? Because we have something firm to stand on. Not the theological musings of the theologians. Not the fickle feelings of popes or the decisions of councils that are so prone to err. But the Word of the Lord that endures forever.

How can we be so forceful? Because God has given you His Word. He’s given you His Sacraments. He’s given you His Spirit. He’s given you heroes to learn from and to imitate, Elijahs and John the Baptists, the saints and apostles, Martin Luther and the Lutheran Reformers. Above all, He has given you His Son Christ Jesus as a Hero, as a Model, and as a Savior.

How can we be so forceful? Because we know, by faith, that the Church of Christ Jesus is winning and will win. It will continue to force its way into the world and throughout the world, . Seen or unseen, in ways big and small. And soon, when the Lord appears, the devil’s kingdom will crumble. But even before then, the victory is already ours. Or as the hymn says, “The kingdom ours remaineth.” Amen.