Palm Sunday, 2010.
March 28, 2010.
Luke 19:28-40/Philippians 2:5-11
Easy to welcome: Hard to follow

Friends, this time around, the Word for this Palm Sunday has got me thinking that it is easy to welcome Jesus but hard to follow him.

See, it is easy to welcome a winner. You may have done that a few times? Last Saturday, our second son, Mitch, and his team of under 12 cricketers won the grand final in their league. It was great! The boys played so well and the coach and the parents were stoked. There was lots of slaps on backs and encouraging words from proud Mum’s and Dad’s as the boys came off the hallowed turf. It was easy and fun to welcome these winners. It is a good thing to experience now and again!

If it is easy to welcome a winner, like they did on Palm Sunday, as Jesus the great new king entered the royal city of Jerusalem, it is probably quite easy to follow a winner too. If the leader is loved and has good skills and a good plan and the right intentions, then following can be done with relative ease. We are happy to jump on a winning train and see where it leads.

It may be easy to welcome a winner, and even follow a winner, but it is a lot harder to welcome and follow a loser. So many times I have been on the boundary line of our kid’s sports and had to welcome them off the ground when they have suffered a crushing loss. That is not so easy.

If welcoming a loser is hard, then following one is harder still. Remember that teacher you once had who you just could not follow but had to in order to do your best? Remember that boss you worked under who sometimes seemed to not really know what was going on or understand the issues, but you worked away anyway. What about that colleague whom you just find it hard to trust and work with, but you have to anyway; that kid at school who was the class “loser” whom you found it hard to stick up for. It is hard to follow a person or a religion that you or others sometimes judge to be a “loser”.

But, even with all that, what would inspire you to do this difficult thing of following a so called, “loser”?

I guess you might follow if you knew that the person was not actually a loser. That would take some attention and working through though, to find out. It would take some application, patience, personal time and reflection to discover that your and others’ judgements about the person were actually not quite big enough or full enough.

I guess you would follow a loser if you trusted that it was all for a great and noble purpose – a purpose of hope, of life, or renewal, of learning, of growing, of truly living and understanding...

You could follow if you trusted that his loss was so that good things come to you, – personally, come to a world in need, come to an environment damaged, come to a universe out of sync.

If the loser was actually no loser, but another kind of winner who operates on a completely different scale of who is a winner and who is a loser, and if you could understand his way of winning and what it meant for the good of you and the world, then you might follow him.

Of course, how everyone judges this Jesus on a donkey, and then on a cross, and in a tomb is different. In our time and place, many people would regard him and those who follow him as not too much of a winner.

Even those who profess to follow this seeming “loser” (as others view him) probably wonder if they have backed a winner, because following Jesus is not held in any great esteem, just as he is no longer held in any high esteem.

We may even get to the point of only following parts of Jesus – the parts that are easy and don’t confront us much.

An example..... We hear a lot about God’s grace. “It’s all about grace” we say. Our life is based on simply receiving the free gift of God’s grace and learning to be gracious, and so it goes... This is true but it is also incomplete.


Jesus doesn’t really allow anyone to leave it there. Yes he is magnificent in his lavish grace as he takes a beating from evil itself in my place. Yes he is grace personified as he is lifted up in pain and blood to lose it all so that I can gain all.

Yes, we are connected with the maker of all things in a relationship of compassion and love by the compassion and passion and love of this divine man, Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God.

But then he lays a call on us. He said to those 12 people entering the city with him that first Palm Sunday, “Follow”. In his grace – grace enough to overlook their many ignorance’s and offensive ideals and actions, “Follow”. His call to us is a call of underserved love and confidence in us, and yet it is still a call to follow him somewhere into something.

“Follow what or whom?” we might ask. Follow a lifestyle goal? Follow a code of ethics? Follow a set of values. Follow the great thinkers and theologians? Follow the church and all it’s teaching religiously? Follow the family tradition of Christianity?

No, not in the most basic and first instance anyway. “Follow ME”, the donkey riding Servant King calls. “Follow me into the city; into an unknown future”.

So, we are called by this grace-filled God to follow him somewhere in the journey of life he has given us. Today he calls us to follow him into the city and the suffering and the crucifixion and death and then that life at the end of the tunnel.

So how about it? As you welcome the winner, Jesus, will you follow him into an unknown future? Will you welcome this divine crucified man who will win the greatest victory of all – the ability and the power and authority to even forgiven human sin and heal human blindness?

Will you welcome him as he reveals the wise and divine to the foolish and impatient? Will you follow him into Easter and its seeming foolishness and weakness and see where he leads you this time around? Will you follow him?

The opposite response is to settle for a theoretical brand of Christianity. Peter, with all his promises to practice his faith and stay with Jesus even to death, found that the practice of faith and following is more confronting and scary that the theory of it. Actually following in faith is confronting.

But imagine his life after it was all over and he was restored by Jesus to full belonging and love – the practice of following the resurrected Jesus was a joy and a light burden and a great love and fulfilment to his being!

So, how about it? Will you lose the theory and let Jesus lead into the practice of being Christian, and so find that world-shaping and fulfilling life which the Saviour promises?

The time for entertaining Christianity is over. The call of Jesus to a generation is upon us. He still calls to all of us – “Follow ME”.

Follow him to the cross and stay there with him in your spirit these holy days. Stay in the tomb with the seeming “loser”.

Wait for the light to crack the stone around the heart and turn and face the Son in all his glory on Easter Day.

He is calling all of us to let him love us, let him surround us with his underserved kindness. He is gifting us with a call around here – to follow him in our place with our skills, our relationships, our hopes, our plans, our whole selves.

So, we welcome the king. We ask with all our soul for this winner to lead us into his suffering and into his glorious power and light for our calling here in this place at this time.

Welcome the winner. Follow the winner even if it means losing something.

Amen

The rain comes down

The rain comes down

As I listen intently to the rolling thunder and the heavy rain which is breaking the long dry rainless summer, I find myself longing for God to water not just the ground and all living things around here, but also our community.

It has been a tough week. Someone among us has lost their job in our community and that hurts. We are fighting hard, planning hard, talking, listening and praying hard. We long for a new things that re-shape our college and church community. We are longing for God to make his plans clear. We are longing for God to send us the right person to lead our college community as Principal.

We long for life and hope and joy to return in full so that we can know that we are part of the Divine plan for us and this community.

Come. Lord Jesus, come.

Sermon:
Sounds of the Passion
Ocean Forest
Sunday March 28, 2010

Shouting Mob
Matthew 27:15–25
Rev. James E. Butler, D.Min., pastor, Trinity Lutheran Church, Springfield, Massachusetts

One thing a person quickly learns about large groups of people is that, collectively, as groups, they have little common sense. Large groups are often fickle and quick to change direction. Just look at any sports event—the crowd may cheer or jeer the home team at any moment. The larger the crowd, the less control.
This “mob think” can be extreme. About 10 years ago, a group of British soccer fans trying to get onto the field crushed some of their own against a fence, killing many of them. Mob psychology is scary—a cheering crowd can turn into an ugly, vicious mob in seconds.

A good place to view the fickle nature of “group think” is in Jesus’ passion. The crowds that cheered Jesus into the city on on Sunday called for his crucifixion on Friday. Their cheers became jeers; their shouts of “Hosanna” became “crucify him!”.
LISTEN TO THE SHOUTING MOB—AND HEAR YOURSELF.

I

During Passover Jerusalem’s population mushroomed, going from approximately 20,000 residents to close to 100,000+ inhabitants for that week. People camped in the streets, outside the city walls, anywhere they could find a spot. During the week, the city could become a powder keg of explosive force just waiting for the right match to set it off. The situation was explosive.

The first time the crowd shouted was on Palm Sunday, when Jesus rode in on a colt. The crowds saw Jesus coming, and the words of Zechariah rang in their ears: “See, your king comes to you . . . riding on a donkey” (Zech 9:9; Mt 21:5). Someone started shouting, then another chimed in, and soon those in the crowd were all calling out, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Hosanna in the highest!” (Mt 21:9).

The priests were mortified. They knew what these actions and cries meant—and it was nothing good as far as they were concerned. The people wanted Jesus to seize power and be their king and rule them forever. The cry “Hosanna” means “Save us now!” It was an exclamation of praise. The powers that be would have to stop Jesus and stop him now.

Pushing their way through the crowd, they came to Jesus. “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!” But Jesus replied, “I tell you, if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out” (Lk 19:39b–40). Jesus had no intention of quieting the mob; indeed he rejoiced in their cries and rejoiced with them that the hour of salvation was at hand.

II

Late Thursday night the chief priests and teachers of the law managed to do what no one thought they could ever do—arrest Jesus with no one near. Thanks to the inside information of Judas, they were able to place Jesus under arrest with no crowd nearby. A quick trial and Jesus was sent off to Pilate for condemnation and death.
Except that Pilate decided to try Jesus on his own. Instead of simply taking the priests’ word that Jesus was guilty, he wanted to find out for himself. So, taking Jesus inside his palace, he left the priests outside. Now they were worried. Within five minutes even Pilate would figure out that Jesus was not the revolutionary they had tried to paint him as. Pilate would set him free unless there were a few people to convince him otherwise.

Pilate was a politician. Politicians listen to crowds. No true politician will act against the will of the people; it’s political suicide. Just see how hard Tony and Kevin are working at the moment! If Pilate could be convinced that enough people wanted Jesus dead, then he would cave in and put Jesus to death.

So the priests provided a second crowd that Holy Week. Pilate came out with Jesus in tow only to find a huge mob of angry faces shouting for Jesus’ blood. Of course, this was a carefully screened crowd, put there to do the priests’ bidding. The priests were the cheerleaders; the people shouted what they were told to shout.
Cry out they did. The moment Pilate came outside, the crowd shouted for Jesus’ blood. “Kill him! Crucify him! Nail him to the cross! Get on with it already!” Pilate couldn’t believe his ears. Crucify him? Why? On what charge? But the only reply he got was “Crucify! Crucify! Crucify!”

Pilate didn’t want to crucify Jesus, and he tried everything he could think of to set him free. First he offered to let one prisoner go: Jesus, who was innocent; or Barabbas, a well-known thief and murderer. Surely the crowd would choose Jesus.
But someone shouted out Barabbas, and suddenly the crowd demanded that he be set free. “Barabbas! We want Barabbas! Set Barabbas free! Release Barabbas!” “But what about Jesus?” Pilate asked. Again the cry went up, “Kill him! Away with him! Nail him to the cross! Crucify! Crucify! Crucify!”

Pilate tried to reason with them again, but the mob stopped listening. They were ripping their clothes and throwing dirt in the air. They were crying and shouting, condemning Jesus to death. And Pilate heard the constant refrain of “Crucify! Crucify! Crucify!” Pilate gave in to the crowd’s wish and had Jesus put to death.

III

When we hear the cries of those two crowds—one shouting words of praise; the other, cries of death—we applaud the one and condemn the other. But surely we know we are part of both crowds. We shout words of praise to our Lord, yet we also condemn him to death. We call “Hosanna!” and “Crucify!”

We are part of that ugly Good Friday mob. We are standing there, calling with the crowd for Jesus’ death. We don’t understand him. He is too much for us. His way is seemingly too weak; not prosperous, powerful or positive enough. In a thousand ways we disown him, rebel against his way of living, give in to the passions inside us and get what we need at the expense of others, or place our life in someone or something’s hands other than in His hands, We need no help to stage a crucifixion.
But the stunning news is that God can place us in the other chorus – the Palm Sunday chorus of praise and dependence upon God. This can only be experienced as we acknowledge who we really are and where we really are before a holy God of love.

In that moment we are overwhelmed with the experience of our own guilt before God. We hear of Jesus, hanging on that wooden cross. We know that he is there to bring us back to our full voice – to the voice of the angels and archangels and all those who have gone before us – to a billion sinners world-wide praising the name of the Healer, the Lover, the Victor, Jesus.

“Hosanna! Save us now! Save us, Lord! Take our sins away and grant us new life with you! Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, have mercy on us!” At the cross, and only at the cross of the Crucified Servant King, we are forgiven. And the new voice rises within us. We sing together. We shout, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” Blessed is he who comes to forgive us. Blessed is he who gives us new life through Baptism in his name. Blessed is he who says, “Go in peace, your sins are forgiven!” Blessed is Jesus Christ, crucified for us. As Luther said in the old hymn, “Here might I stay and sing, No story so divine! . . . This is my friend, In whose sweet praise I all my days Could gladly spend!” (LW 91:7).

Spend a while at the cross this day. Listen to the shout of the crowd! See which crowd noise is resonating with you at the moment and ask why. Ask the Spirit to help you find the Hosanna crowd and stay with that. Ask the Lord to help you shout aloud with them, from the heart, and in that find peace and freedom and joy this Easter for whatever is troubling, binding or scaring you.

In repentance and faith we shout, “Hosanna!” Yes, all praise to God our Father, who sent forth his Son, who now receives the praises of countless angels and of the innumerable saints in heaven. Praise Jesus for his willingness and ability to return us to the hosanna crowd where there is some joy and some hope for our relationship with him and each other. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!

Lent 4C, Sunday March 14, 2010.
Ocean Forest
Sounds of the Passion
Crowing Rooster
Luke 22:60–62
Rev. James E. Butler, D.Min., pastor, Trinity Lutheran Church, Springfield, Massachusetts

1
Friends, if anyone ever knew what it is like to be welcomed and loved despite his deep wrong and shame, it was that wayward son in that story Jesus told before – the parable of the prodigal son. Without hesitation or limitation, the Father embraced his son in all the son’s deep sin, with all the hurt it caused and shame he had brought.

Despite this great wrong committed by this wayward young man, the Father loves, accepts and embraces the pain. Oh, that we would experience our heavenly Father this way….

As we reflect on Easter and the events leading to it, we hear of a real-life prodigal son returning to the prodigious love of God. His name is Peter…

2
When confronted with being identified with Jesus, “Peter replied, ‘Man, I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed. The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: ‘Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times’” (Lk 22:60–61).

Peter is fascinating and complex. He’s loud and brash. He speaks his mind. He often leaps before he looks. He’s capable of tremendous insight and yet two seconds later can put both feet in his mouth. One moment he proclaims that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God; the next he tries to keep Jesus from going to the cross. One moment he says he doesn’t want Jesus to wash his feet; the next he’s wanting a complete bath. That’s Peter—wonderful heights of insight and intellect or falling flat on his face in front of everyone.

Nowhere are Peter’s contradictions more obvious than during Jesus’ passion. There we see Peter, brash and bold, treading recklessly where others fear to walk. And yet so quickly, at another moment, his feet turn to clay, and he falters before those around him.

The night begins during the Last Supper. The disciples must have known that something special was happening that night, but they probably didn’t understand exactly what. Jesus talked about sorrow, worry, betrayal, and death. They must have been confused, even troubled. They sang the final psalm of the Passover and walked to the Mount of Olives.

As they were going out of the city, Jesus told them, “This very night, you will all fall away” (Mt 26:31). They would all leave him, each hiding in his own way. Peter says, “No way!” He loved his Teacher and friend, and he was never, ever going to fall away from him. “No, Lord!” he bellowed. “Everyone else may fall away, but I will never fall away. Even if I have to die with you, I’ll never leave you!” There it is—classic Peter, bold, brash, loud, and confident. The others might let Jesus down, but he never would.

“Peter, tonight, before the rooster crows twice, you will deny three times that you know me.” Peter must have been stung. How could Jesus ever say such a thing? Didn’t Jesus know Peter? The others might leave, but Peter would never leave. He protested with all his vigour: “Never, Lord! I’ll never leave you! Even if I have to die with you, I’ll never deny you!” Jesus must have smiled back, gently but knowingly.

They continued up the mountain, going into the garden. Jesus took Peter, and the two close others; James, and John. Jesus asked them to pray with him, to stay with him. Oh, they really wanted to. But sleep overtook them.

“Peter, wake up! Here comes my betrayer now!” interrupts Jesus. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Peter’s mind was foggy. Then he heard what Jesus was talking about—the sound of an angry mob coming up the mountain. It was a small army of men with swords, spears, and clubs. And leading the crowd was Judas Iscariot. Yes, Jesus had told them that Judas would betray him, but actually seeing it . . . Well, that was something else again!

Anger!—Judas’ kiss. The swords of the temple guard, the spears of the Roman army. Peter couldn’t just stand there and do nothing, could he? Then he remembered the short sword he’d packed that night. Pulling the sword out of its scabbard, Peter ran forward in some sort of confused protective defense of the man who meant everything to him. Peter missed. He managed to cut off an ear, which at least drew some blood.
“Peter!” called Jesus. “Put that thing away! The Scriptures must be fulfilled.” Then Jesus touched the man’s ear and healed it.

Peter took a step back and thought about what he’d done. What had he been thinking, pulling a sword against a contingent of soldiers? Did he have a death wish? Was he crazy? He didn’t know; he just ran. He was scared to death and ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

I wonder what Peter would have done had he known what lay ahead. He was truly torn. On the one hand, he wanted to be close to his Lord. He loved the man. On the other hand, he was scared to death. He had threatened to attack a group of Romans. He was a dead man now. But he wanted to be close to Jesus. He would go with John. If he pulled up his cloak and stayed in the background, he could probably get away with it.

No sooner did he walk into the courtyard, than he was recognized. “You, you were with him too!” said the girl who opened the courtyard gate. What could Peter do? He’d been spotted. Could he pretend to be someone else? He hardly had a moment to think. “No, that wasn’t me,” he said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
It was cold. Peter hadn’t noticed it before. Now he felt a cold sweat. He was freezing. Someone had built a fire.

Pulling his cloak over him, he walked over to the fire to warm himself. Immediately the accusations started again. Another servant girl looked closely at him: “You were with that man, Jesus of Nazareth.”

“I don’t know him,” Peter declared. “I’ve never met the man.” He walked away.
But the inquisitors were not satisfied. “He is one of them! I know he is!” someone insisted. “Yeah, he’s one of them! Can’t you hear that accent? He’s from Galilee!” “I know he’s one of them! He was the guy who cut off my cousin’s ear!”
Peter was scared to death. What could he say? Summoning up all the courage he had left inside, he began to scream. I DO NOT KNOW THE MAN!” And again the rooster crowed.

Friends, in comfortable 2010 coastal dwelling, we think we have it all figured out. No way will we be “unchristian”. No way would we sell out on Jesus. Others might fall away from worshipping Jesus, serving people in his name, loving in his name, but we never will. We’ll stay close to Jesus! Even if everyone else falls away, we will never fall away!

Oh, but we know the truth. We know Peter well. Maybe that is why we can relate to him so well. He is just like us and we are just like him. The spirit may be willing at times, but the flesh is so, so weak!

We are meant to stay with him. We are meant to stand up for the weak and show them who he is. We are meant to love like he does. We are meant to shine in darkness. We are called to love the unlovely. We are called to pray for peace and work for justice. We are given the gift of grace of God to be grace to others. But somehow, we are so often overtaken with ourselves.

This week, I heard about a man who is deliberately charging poverty stricken indigenous people extra interest in their small loans they take seek from him somewhere in our North West. The money is most often used by these people to make child care payments. It has been recommended that this man’s business be shut down. Here, here, I say. We are called to act justly, seek wisdom and walk humbly with our God. But will we act in love. Will we actually say something and do something?

3
Thank God that something happens to make us aware of our actions. A rooster crows; someone calls for help; and something we’ve learned before comes back to mind. We hear this Easter suffering of Jesus and we remember what we are here for – to be loved with a love beyond all loves; to love beyond all loves; to suffer with those who suffer.; to give up the comforts this life affords and place ourselves and our possessions in the service of the Suffering Servant who serves us and all who need serving. Bitter tears of regret and the pleas for God’s forgiveness and renewal should be no be a stranger to us who have it so good. .

THE CROWING OF THE ROOSTER IS GOD’S GRACIOUS WAKE-UP CALL TO US!
The rooster crows and we are set on another course. Is that why Jesus told Peter beforehand about the rooster crow? Was it give Peter a marker in his most confused and darkest moment? I think so. The rooster crow is God still speaking. God is still in touch. This suffering of this divine man has something to do with me. He sends the call to me. I am still his. He is still mine. We are still living this journey of life and faith together in this community. He is waking me up again as woke Peter up and gave him markers to find his balance and his Lord again after his great fall. Jesus is still wanting the best of me and forgiving the worst of me. His cross is still alive. I am still alive because of it.

4
Take the cross, people. Look at it. Bury yourself in it this Easter.Don't look away. Don’t run away for its ugliness. Gaze at him in all his unattractiveness and seeming weakness. The cross is the power of the Divine to shift the world – to shift us.

Enter into this Easter. Delve into the depths of his suffering love. We do not have to hide. We don’t not have to pretend. He can take our worst and restore us to our best. The cross is his best and mine. We live because he lives. We rise above the suffering because he lives in the suffering.

The rooster crow is no longer our shame. It is his love. He is marking our way back to him. Amen

Random Musings
WA District
Convention -
Katanning
It is always nice to know that people are
thinking well of you and commending you to
God’s grace. Can I tell you that last weekend,
a whole lot of people were doing just
this for you!

People from all over the WA Lutheran
church gathered in the annual convention
last weekend. We met in the Great
Southern Wheat belt town of Katanning.
Interstate guests were also present: Mike
Semmler, the President of the Lutheran
church in Australia, Loyd Fyfe, representative
from the Lutheran Schools Association
of WA, NT and SA, and Rev John
Henderson, the principal of Australian Lutheran
College, the premier higher education
and vocational education provider of the
Lutheran Church throughout the Lutheran
church in Australasia.

There was a great moment when the
convention decided to show some sign of
their heartfelt support for the staff, students
and families of Ocean Forest. Way back in
the beginning, before the college was even
open, some money was loaned to the
interim board as part of the overall plan to
get Ocean Forest up and running. This
$7500 has always been seen as an
“outstanding loan” and has never been able
to be sorted out between college and state
organisation.

As a show of support and concern over the
“rough trot” we have had with two of
our senior staff dealing with cancer
and all the stresses this has caused
over the last couple of years, the
good folks of the Lutheran Church
unanimously decided to wipe that
money off in a tone of genuine encouragement.

Our Principal, Mike,was able to address the convention
and express out thanks.
We all need support in our efforts to educate
and love our kids. We as a college are here because
the WA Lutheran church cared and did
something about it. We are all here living and
breathing together because God cared enough
to bring us into being. God was not forced to
create us or love us – he just did and still does.
Easter is coming up. I can tell you that there are
people thinking well of you and praying for you –
praying that you would really ‘get’ the love and
kindness of God poured out in the life of Jesus
of Nazareth.

† News
†Cecilia’s—Note
CONVENTION WRAP
There was plenty of welcoming and positive
spirit was the flavour of this Convention. There
was also indication that the Lutheran Church of
Australia is in rapid transition - at least at its
theological and political centre. There is a new
inclusivity and willingness to engage people
from within and without as the church tries to do
justice to the task of living faithfully as God's
gifted and gospel hearted people in Australia
these days.

The WA District is undertaking the most
substantial project for decades in the redevelopment
of St Johns Lutheran Church in Aberdeen
St in North Bridge. It is estimated that within 10-
15 years, this new three story office building will
bring in around $1M per year to the WA District,
once loans have been paid off. The need is for
WA Lutheran to raise a further $1M now and for
a long term tenant to lease the top two stories of
the new building when complete. The bottom
floor will house congregational and WA District
offices, catering and meeting areas and
teaching area for youth, children and family
ministry.


NEWS
† Pastor Greg Pfeiffer remains President and Pastor
Adrian remains Vice President of the WA District. Scott
Nuske remains a member of the WA District Church
Council.

† Easter is gearing up to be an excellent witne4ss in our
community with Maundy Thursday Passover, Good Friday
Ecumenical worship in the community hall and Easter Day
all taking shape with a team of around 15 people signed up
to get involved. Some of the local Dalyellup folks who are
part of the Grace Christian Church are going to cater for
morning tea after the ecumenical service to raise money for
the purchase of a wheelchair for a local person in need.
Great stuff!
† Pr Adrian will be taking 3 weeks annual leave immediately
after Easter. Our Pastoral Assistants are gearing up
for that.
† Gloria Kitson has been appointed as a “Carer” at the
college in a voluntary capacity. She works to provide care
and support in our community in Jesus’ name.
† The people responsible for the appointment of a new
college Principal are working hard behind the scenes to
ensure that an appointment of a new principal for our
community is made. Pray for them and for those considering
coming to work with us in this role. Especially pray for
the chair of the college board, Dean Pfitzner.
† The college board and spouses/families gathered for a
meal at Dean and Tania Pfitzner’s a few weeks back. It was
a great night of fellowship for all concerned. Thanks Dean
and Tania!
† The Executive of the college (including Pr A – he’s taking
the photo!) are working tirelessly to try and pull all the new
people and systems together in an attempt to make our
community more of a community in Christ. Pray for Jan
Daly (Head of our Primary School), Graeme Scales (Head
of Senior School), Mike Leske (Principal) and Margaret
Pfitzner (Head of Middle School) (oh... and Pr A! – head of
nothing but around the place!)
Updates/ News
Dear Pr Adrian and members of the OFLF
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to attend the
LCA WA District Synod Convention in Katanning.
Although I found myself in “deep water” when
asked to attend the convention, listening to the reports
of the leaders and different committees, as well as
their new proposals, got me really excited about the
future of our church in WA. All conversation was done
in line with the theme of the convention, being
“Gathered Under His Wings”. I was very impressed to
experience the structure in which things are happening
in the WA District and it was a privilege to meet many
of the important role players. There are so many arms
and legs working together to make our church function
as one body, it was good to see the faces of so
many dedicated people.
I guess we will have to wait for the minutes of the meeting
to make sure that the members of our congregation
are fully informed of all the decisions and proposals
made at the convention. However there is lots to look
forward to this year, youth camps in April & July and a
dads & lad’s camp in May to name a few. The District
also requested that all WA congregations should set
aside money for the further professional development
of our pastors. Another exiting project “Faith for the
Future” entails a new building being developed by St
Johns Court Northbridge aimed to celebrate the love of
God not just for St Johns but also for the local community
and the WA Lutheran District.
Thanks to the people of Katanning we experienced the
love and care of a “mother hen”. The food was great
and the people were warm and inviting. I would like to
challenge all members of our congregation to attend
the Synod Convention whenever given the opportunity.
If you are asked to deliver a speech make sure you
grab the opportunity otherwise you might just miss out
on a jar of Pastor Pukallus’s tomato relish!

Sermon: Sunday March 7, 2010.
Ocean Forest, Lent 3C
Sounds of the Passion: Part 4
Tramping Feet
John 18:1–6
Rev. James E. Butler, D.Min., pastor, Trinity Lutheran Church, Springfield, Massachusetts

If there was ever a movie with a whole lot of tramping feet in it, it was the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Thousands and thousands of Orks, relentlessly marching across mountain plains to search out and destroy anything good – particularly Froddo and Sam!. It is a uncompromising and foreboding sound – the sound of tramping feet…I think of all those war movies I saw as a kid – the relentless and perfect step of the SS homing in on some feaful ally.

The heavy footfalls in tight precision, the rhythm of the feet marching in proper cadence as the powerful people descend upon the powerless.
The gospel tellers must have knwn this sound well. As they recalled the events of that first Easter, the sound of tramping feet musy have pervaded their minds because it is very present in their telling. Tramping soldiers feet is heard again and again as Jesus is shuttled from one place to another. There are guards, armies, sentries, and centurions taking our Lord from Gethsemane to trial, from Caiaphas to Pilate, from judgment to the cross.

LISTEN TO THE SOUND OF TRAMPING FEET.
I

We first hear the sound of armed men marching on Thursday night at the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus had just finished his agonizing prayer. He awakened his disciples with the news that his betrayer was now here. The heavy footfalls of an army stopped closeby. Jesus goes to meet them. At the forefront of this crowd was Judas, but with him were the temple guard and a contingent of Roman soldiers. Dead of night or not, the priests weren’t taking any chances of Jesus’ arrest causing a ruckus on this Passover weekend among the packed city of people. Anyone wanting to raise a fuss would be answered with Roman steel.

Jesus faced the armed crowd with courage and conviction. “Am I leading a rebellion,” he asked them, “that you have come out with swords and clubs to capture me? Every day I was with you, teaching in the temple courts, and you did not arrest me” (Mk 14:48–49a).

Then Jesus said two other important things. “But the Scriptures must be fulfilled” (Mk 14:49b). The coming of the crowd, the timed precision of their feet marching in perfect order, wasn’t a random event. This crowd was part of God’s will for the world. Surely Jesus knew what the armed contingent meant: the cross.

They were coming to take him before the kangaroo court that would find him guilty, then to Pilate for sentencing, and eventually to the cross. Scripture had to be fulfilled. God’s had to take our brokeness and death to himself and deal woth – by the death of his own Son. The marching army was a part of it, the timed tramp of feet kept beat with the promise of Holy Scripture, even if they didn’t understand it that way.

And then Jesus added, “But this is your hour—when darkness reigns” (Lk 22:53b). Jesus saw this small army for what it really was, not just a ragtag group thrown together by the chief priests and the Sanhedrin at the last minute. Nor was this merely a group of professional soldiers joined together for a short while.

This group was in reality part of the army of darkness arrayed against Jesus that night. For Satan himself had entered into Judas, and his dark power was guiding the crowd. This was the time when darkness would reign. This was the night when the powers of sin and darkness would give Jesus what he had coming to him. They would pour out their hatred of God and his Son and nail Jesus to the cross once and for all (so they thought)..

Jesus meekly went with them. They marched down the mountainside, swords clanging in time with their feet. Hup-two-three-four. Hup-two-three-four—down the Mount of Olives, across the ravine, into the city of Jerusalem, up the temple mount, onto the Court of Gentiles—company, halt! The Romans dismissed to their barracks at the Fortress Antonia on the north side of the temple. The temple guard took Jesus into the council chambers.

The trial proceeded in almost perfect precision. There were some missteps as they marched to the preordained verdict of guilty, but soon it was all done. Jesus was guilty; that was the only thing that anyone really cared about.
Then the guards took Jesus back outside. Once again, Jesus marched in step with the soldiers: across the court, down the steps, through the city, to the fortress, stopping at Pilate’s judgment hall, where they transferred Jesus back to the control of the Roman army. The soldiers remained outside as Jesus was tried before Pilate. After some shouts and bickering, the sentence was handed down: Jesus would die by crucifixion.

Jesus was marched crisply to the barracks, and then . . . the soldiers at last broke ranks. Suddenly, the strict discipline that held them together disintegrated as they began acting like barbarians. Striking, mocking, dehumanising, shaming….. Heavy boots that had earlier marched across the ground kicked Jesus, bruising him, knocking the wind out of him, causing blood to flow freely from his wounds.

Then the final march…Picking up Jesus, they put the cross bar on his back and led him out to the Via Dolorosa, the way of sorrows. “Hup-two-three-four. Hup-two-three-four. Hup-two-three-four. Hup-two-three—oh, come on! Come on you weakling! Jesus had fallen. The lack of sleep, the loss of blood, and the weight of the cross all conspired against him. Jesus didn’t have the strength to walk another step.

The centurion in charge of the procession is irritated. Pushing aside the crowd, he takes his sword in hand and cuts the ropes holding the cross bar, setting Jesus free. Quickly scanning the crowd, he sees a Cyrenian. Hauling him into the street, the centurion motions to the cross bar. “March! he roars”. “Hup-two-three-four! Hup-two-three-four! Hup-two-three-four!” Out of the city, across the dry riverbed, to Golgotha, the Place of the Skull. There they crucify Jesus.
II
As they nail Jesus to the tree, a word comes from his lips, a word that surprises all who hear it. There’s no cry for vengeance, no word of hatred for the Romans who nailed him there. Simply a word of grace: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Lk 23:34a).

What an indecribable word – sheer underserved compassion! Instead of calling down legions of marching angels to destroy all who were hurting him, Jesus called down a word of forgiveness. In fact, Jesus earned forgiveness for the soldiers whose feet had taken him to his death. Jesus died for the very community who put him on the cross. He took it all. He gave it all. He brings forgiveness for all.

Friend, where are we marching and with whom? How easily we go off on our own way, following our own orders. We seem to predisposed to march to the beat of a different drummer—ourselves. We shut our ears to the cadence of God’s direction and listen to our own drumbeat of self determined journey. It’s so easy to get out of rhythm with the Spirit. So easy to become confused about who we are and where we are going.
Hiding our confusion and self- interest and focus can be done with a veneer of civilization, as the Romans kept such strict discipline over their soldiers. But the moment the officers were out of sight, their discipline fell apart; deep down they were still cruel barbarians. We see this in the Easter witness of the NT.

In the same way our veneer of civilized behavior can drop away in an instant. You’ve heard of “road rage,” when people suddenly go ballistic at other drivers and use their cars as weapons. There are an array of ways in which we betray our marching to beat of our own broken drum.
sound

Hear that relentless sound. He marched it with you and I in mind. He changes our march headlong into more self-inflicted pain, sin and sorrow into a march of victory – the victory over all that that binds us, hurts us and intimidates us. This is no march of relentless fear and loathing but a march to love – pure self-sacrificing, Divine love that excells all loves.

Freed from self-laothing and the death this bring us, we join the march of the Via Dalorosa – the way of Jesus’ suffering. “If anyone would come after me, he must take up his cross and follow me” (Mt 16:24).

Take the march to the cross this time around. In the weakness, violence, obvious pain and darkness of human sin, there is light. There is life. There is a relentless God inviting you to go deeper into his suffering that you may go deeper into his life given and shed for you.

Because of this march to the freedom of the cross, we walk in the way of forgiveness, peace, mercy, and love. The world needs us to walk in this way. Without the suffering of Jesus there is no end to suffering. Without the march to the grave and the resurrection, there is no resurrection to God’s life.

God has prepared a way to march with others; good works for you, that you should walk in them (Eph 2:10), loving others as God has loved so clearly and humanly loved you. We in this community of God here in this place walk in the way that Jesus did, marching with him in the way of God’s directive word and his Spirit’s power.This sound of tramping feet— is the sound of God’s people following the way of Jesus!

WA Lutheran Community

The Lutheran community throughout Western Australia met for the weekend just gone in the Great Southern Wheatbelt town of Katanning.
Plenty of welcoming and positive spirit was the flavour. Also indication that the Lutheran Church of Australia is in rapid transition - at least at its theological and political centre.

There is a new inclusivity and willingness to engage people from within and without as the church tries to do justice to the task of living faithfully as God's gifted and gospel hearted people in Australia these days.

LENT 2010
Sounds of the Passion: Part 2
Sunday February 28, 2010
Crying Tears
John 11:35–36
Rev. James E. Butler, D.Min., pastor, Trinity Lutheran Church, Springfield, Massachusetts
People cry all the time. Sometime in life, we all shed tears. We cry because we hurt. Oh, we talk about shedding tears of joy, but mostly we cry because something’s wrong. Maybe it’s a death, maybe it’s leaving a job, maybe it’s the end of a relationship. Sometime in life, we all cry tears of pain and sadness.
Even Jesus cried—real tears of pain and sadness. Jesus cried as he saw the pain that sin and death brought into the world. He cried when he considered and when he felt the full price that sin and death would cost him. Tonight we hear the sound of crying. Listen carefully:
IN THE SOUND OF JESUS’ TEARS, CAN YOU HEAR HOW HE LOVES YOU?
I
The first time we encounter Jesus crying is at the death of his friend Lazarus. Lazarus was the brother of Mary and Martha. You remember them—the sisters who invited Jesus to eat. Martha was busy hustling and bustling to get everything ready, while Mary sat and listened to the Lord. Martha became angry about this arrangement, and Jesus told her that Mary made the better choice. You remember that story? Well, Mary and Martha had a brother named Lazarus. He became ill. His sisters sent word to Jesus, saying, “Lord, the one you love is sick” (Jn 11:3). I’m sure they expected Jesus to come just as soon as he heard, but he didn’t. Instead, he waited around for a few days and then set out to see Lazarus. He told his disciples that Lazarus had died, but that he was going “to wake him up” (Jn 11:11).
When Jesus arrived in Bethany, Lazarus’s sisters, Mary and Martha, came out to meet him. Where had Jesus been? Why didn’t he come when he got the news? “‘Lord,’ Martha said to Jesus, ‘if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask’” (Jn 11:21–22).
Jesus reminded her that he is the resurrection and the life, and that all who believe in him never die. Even when they end life on this earth, they will live with him forever. Then he asked Martha, “Do you believe this?” (Jn 11:26). “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who was to come into the world” (Jn 11:27).
Jesus, Mary, and Martha approached the tomb. A crowd of people followed. Jesus knew what was going to happen. He knew he was going to go to the tomb to raise Lazarus from the dead. He knew the surprise and the joy that were to come. Yet as he went to the tomb, Jesus began to cry. At this place, we find that short, poignant verse, the shortest verse in our English Bibles, “Jesus wept” (Jn 11:35).
But why—with all that Jesus knew—why was he crying? Most of the people thought Jesus was crying for Lazarus. “See how he loved him!” (Jn 11:36), the townspeople said. The fact is, though, Jesus wasn’t crying for Lazarus. He knew Lazarus was just fine. Jesus was crying for Mary and Martha. Jesus was crying for the people in the town. Jesus cried for all those who were in pain at Lazarus’s death. They knew he loved Lazarus and his sisters because he cried tears for them. He cried because he saw the pain and torment that death caused. So he cried with the people as they cried for their friend.
II
A second time we find Jesus crying is in the Garden of Gethsemane. Referring particularly to that night, the writer to the Hebrews tells us, “During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death” (Heb 5:7). This time as Jesus weeps, there’s no crowd of people. Jesus is by himself. His disciples are sound asleep nearby, oblivious to their Master’s tears and pain. He throws himself down on the ground, shedding tears in anguish. “Father!” Can you hear the pain and torment in that word? Can you see the tears rushing down his cheeks as he cries aloud to God? Oh, Jesus cried that night—shed blood and sweat, no doubt mixed with tears of pain and torment. “Father! If it is possible, please let this cup pass from me!”
Why is Jesus crying now? Think about it: again Jesus knows what’s going to happen. He’s told his disciples over and over: “The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into the hands of men. They will kill him, and on the third day he will be raised to life” (Mt 17:22–23). Jesus knew the joy at the end, the resurrection. So why is he crying now?
He’s crying because of the cup. “Let this cup pass from me!” That cup, filled with the wine of the Lord’s anger, he promised the nations would one day be forced to drink, and it would send them all reeling. That cup, the cup of God’s wrath and anger, was now at Jesus’ lips. He recoiled in horror at the thought of drinking it—of being the sin bearer for the whole world. “Father,” he cried out through salty tears, “if it is possible, let this cup pass me by. Yet not my will, but yours be done!”
Jesus knew what was in the cup, but he also knew that someone had to drink it. We couldn’t face God’s wrath on our own. Ten thousand times ten thousand years in hell would not be enough pain and anguish to alleviate the wrath of God. Only the death of a sinless person, of God himself—only the death of Jesus—would be enough to take away God’s anger. Jesus would have to drink the hated cup of God’s wrath. Even knowing that all of this would happen, Jesus was willing to go through with it, to go to the cross. “Not my will, but yours be done!” He would take God’s anger on himself. He would give up his holy life, and he would take our sin on himself. In return, he would give us the perfect life that God requires, so that we could be forgiven. (See stanza 4 of Gerald Coleman’s hymn “The Lamb” [HS98 822].) The writer to the Hebrews tells us that Jesus was willing to learn obedience through suffering so that he might be the source of eternal salvation for all who believe on him (Heb 5:8–9). We can almost imagine the angels, seeing their Lord calling out to his Father in anguish and yet fully willing to suffer it all, saying, “See how he loves them!”
III
Once more, at the cross, we can surely picture Jesus shedding tears. Tears of pain as the nails went through his hands and his feet. Tears of grief as the chief priests and Pharisees stood laughing at him. Tears of anguish as he saw his mother crying in pain for her Son. Tears of supreme agony as his Father abandoned him to suffer his wrath and anger, damning his Son to the full torments of hell in our place. And finally, tears of victory as he called out in triumph, “It is finished” (Jn 19:30). “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit” (Lk 23:46).
Oh, yes, Jesus cried. Jesus cried to see what death had done to his people. He cried to see the pain that the punishment of death and hell placed upon us. But Jesus did much more than cry about the pain caused by sin and death. He did a lot more than merely hurt with the people of God. Jesus went to the cross and suffered in our place. By dying for us, Jesus defeated death once and for all, winning God’s grace and salvation forever. All people—from every time and every place—who believe in Jesus are completely forgiven, their sins wiped away forever. What greater joy, what better message than this, that God loves, accepts, and forgives every person for Jesus’ sake! As Jesus cried, as he suffered for us, the angels of God well might have cried out, “See how he loves them!” See how our Lord loves us: he gives himself on the cross in our place.
And not only did Jesus die in our place. No, he rose again on Sunday morning. Never forget the joy of Easter morning! For there we see the final victory of Jesus, as he broke free of death’s prison and showed that the curse of death, the curse from Eden itself, was finally destroyed. And he gives us this promise—whoever lives and believes in him will never die. Jesus drank the cup of God’s wrath. He destroyed the power of sin and broke the chains of death. His Easter victory moves us to tears. We are filled with joy and peace unending at his forgiveness and grace. We rejoice in his love and proclaim, “See how he loves us!”
Brothers and sisters, each of us has pains and hurts. Sometimes we feel lonely. Other times we feel distressed. Some members of our congregation are facing personal battles with family members; others are facing a biopsy, surgery, and many other illnesses and pain. But I want to remind you that as you face each of these tough roads, you are never alone. Jesus is with you. Jesus hurts with you. Jesus walks with you. Jesus cries real tears with you. Jesus promises to bring you through the times of pain and darkness into the light of his joy. Jesus shed his tears of pain at Gethsemane and on the cross for you. He hurts to see you in pain now, and he cries with you. But more than that, he promises to bring you through the pain and into an eternal joy. “I have come that they might have life,” said Jesus, “and have it to the full” (Jn 10:10). Not even the pain of death itself is able to separate you from God’s love in Jesus Christ.
Listen—the sound of sobbing. People crying in pain all over the world. But over and above all of those tears is the sound of Jesus’ crying. He cried to see our pain. He cried in Gethsemane. He cried on the cross. And now he welcomes us into his kingdom, where he promises to wipe away every tear from our eyes with his own love and joy.