All sinners hunger for the assurance that Christ did not die in vain but for them.
A number of conversations of late have revealed to me that a spiritual hunger plagues the land, troubles the people; and I do not mean any specific nation or any particular citizenry. These conversations have taken place across national, linguistic, and denominational lines. These conversations have been with “Bible-believing Christians,” some of whom know more Bible passages by heart than I ever will. This hunger among believers arises from the way in which they are listening to the prophets, evangelists, and apostles. Their craving stems from the way in which they digest what they hear, and where they believe the action in their conversations with God takes place.
These conversations have taken place with people who are willing to die for (and eager to die trusting in) the proposition that God saves sinners on the basis of His grace alone, on the basis of the faith that God alone gives them. Their hunger has arisen out of their wondering whether they will remain faithful and whether the works that the Holy Spirit has aided them in performing will be sufficient proof of their worth in God’s sight. Their longing is searching for sure ground under their feet when they want to go before their Savior’s throne. They know the Bible has directed them to go boldly before the throne of grace, but they are finding it difficult sometimes to know what to say to God when they get up there.
These conversations have helped me appreciate afresh what a blessing it is to be able to converse, or at least read Scripture, with Martin Luther. He understood how it is not that the Holy Spirit accompanies our souls up to God to hear His word of forgiveness. Luther has conveyed the message to me that the proof of the pudding of salvation comes not from checking out whether the Holy Spirit has been able to conform my execution of God’s will to the divine design for daily life. Luther believed God enjoys coming into our down and dirty world to speak to us right here and now in normal human language that delivers the mysteries of His way of dealing with those who refuse to talk to Him or listen to Him. He comes to us to refashion our hearing and our hearts to be tuned in to what He has to say. He comes to repeat His promise to be our faithful God and to sustain us as His chosen children. He comes to remind us that our works are not proof (though they are indeed demonstrations) of our trusting the Word who has transformed us into children of God. Instead, our good deeds are no more (but no less!) than the products of trusting God when He says, “You are my child.” The status of being the child of another person cannot be earned. It is simply the way we are, who we are.
God is present with us, here, in our own earthly environments, Luther confessed. He seeks us out because He wants to talk to us who had turned our backs on Him and closed our ears to what He wants to tell us. Christ does not summon us to His Father’s right hand in order to share the benefits of His death and resurrection with us. He comes to us in His Word of absolution, of forgiveness which brings new life through words in our own languages that come through fellow believers.
He comes to us in His Word of absolution, of forgiveness which brings new life through words in our own languages that come through fellow believers.
Luther trusted in a Creator who loves the created order and the material objects He has fashioned with His creative Word, “Let there be.” The Wittenberg reformer was convinced that the scholastic rule of the finite having “no capacity by definition to convey or deliver anything infinite,” such as forgiveness and life, had arisen in a Hellenistic world in which there was no active Creator, certainly not one who spoke to create what He wanted to craft, who used words as tools to accomplish His desires. While Luther’s contemporaries were listening to Aristotle, whose Unmoved Mover did not speak, and to Plato, whose Deity did not speak with human beings, he was reading Moses and Isaiah. Moses had learned that he needed only a word, no stick, if he wanted water to revive his thirsty people (Numbers 20:11). Isaiah had confessed that the Word of the Lord never came back empty (Isaiah 55:11). Luther wound himself up so tight turning in upon himself and trying to do what he was capable of on his own, so that they could be sure he was in God’s good grace. He relaxed and found his truly human form only when he found God was talking when his brothers in the cloister assured him that his Creator loved him and had come to die and rise for him.
All sinners hunger for the assurance that Christ did not die in vain but for them. All those recognize they have strayed long for the security of being carried on the shoulders of the Good Shepherd, who rose that they might have the abundant life. Luther concluded that we do not have to climb to the heights of the heavens to find assurance that “for you” means “for me.” They receive the saving Word of life from the multi-media communicator, who has come to speak in our day as He did in Pentecost through Peter to every nation and in every language. He comes with His message shaped in oral, written, and sacramental forms which convey His promise that He will be our living and faithful God, who has made it possible for us, by dying and rising for us, to live with Him forever.
Luther recognized we are freed to turn to God with unmitigated, unrestrained joy and love when we know He has made us His own, to live under Him and His rule, by claiming us as His possession through Christ’s sacrifice of His life on the cross and through His rising to restore us to being children of God. We can serve Him by loving our neighbors through serving them in their times of need, not so we look good in God’s sight but, rather, so He can demonstrate His love for them in our care and concern.
Luther realized God delivers His deliverance from being turned in on ourselves when He tells us through other believers that our sins are forgiven and Christ has insured them a place at the Father’s eternal banquet table. The place cards have already been made, and our names are holding our places for us. For when our names were entered into the baptismal records of the congregations in which we were baptized, they were recorded in the Book of Life. Trusting in our Lord’s sacrificial death on our behalf and in the power of His resurrection which has restored our identity as God’s children, we trust His telling us, in sermons and casual conversations with Christian friends, in absolution and in reading the Bible, in remembering that we are baptized and in receiving the “for you” borne on His body and blood in His Supper, that we will be enjoying the holiday of eternal life at home with Him.
