This is the third installment in our article series, “An Introduction to the Bondage of the Will,” written to commemorate the 500th anniversary of Martin Luther’s Bondage of the Will.
This is the second installment in our article series, “An Introduction to the Bondage of the Will,” written to commemorate the 500th anniversary of Martin Luther’s Bondage of the Will.
This is the first installment in our article series, “An Introduction to the Bondage of the Will,” written to commemorate the 500th anniversary of Martin Luther’s Bondage of the Will.

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We’re tempted to try and connect the dots. Something bad happens to someone and we can’t help but wonder about the cause. Even if we don’t say it out loud, we are tempted to think they must have done something to deserve it. They must be guilty of something. God must be punishing them for something we don’t know about. But Jesus stops this thinking in its tracks.
I don’t think the people of Jerusalem designed to reject God. They didn’t wake up one day and decide that, instead of listening to God, they would make it their mission to kill him. They were deceived. Blinded. Deluded by sin and its author. As a result, they were unable and unwilling to hear the Word of the Lord.
There are two ways to think about what’s happening when someone is tempted. The first is to imagine temptation as enticement toward something bad and wrong. This is probably the more common of the two. But there’s another way of thinking about it. Temptation could also be seen as encouragement away from something good and right.
You’re not normally an eaves-dropper, and you don’t make it a habit of sticking your nose in other people’s business. But some conversations beg to be overheard. Transfiguration is like that.
This week Jesus continues by discussing the behavior of his people. He’s particularly interested in the way his people treat others—especially those who mistreat them. Like last week, the only way to describe it is backwards.
Backwards. That is the only way to describe the world Jesus portrays in Luke 6. Consider what He says about blessings. The blessed, He says, are the poor, the hungry, those who weep. It is those who are hated, excluded, reviled, spurned. Who among us wants to be “blessed” like that?
Much like the Old Testament reading from Isaiah, Luke helps us consider discipleship by inviting us to identify with an individual.
During Epiphany we reflect on the things God has revealed about the world and Himself through His Son. The Gospel readings, which come from the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, serve as introductions to Jesus—both for the people of His day and ours.
This text reminds us that Jesus was a preacher. He also healed and worked wonders, delivered from danger and forgave sins. But here, immediately following his baptism, Jesus came to his own people in the synagogue of his hometown, and he preached.
And there is Jesus to save the day. With a little prodding from His mother, and some help from obedient servants, He swoops in and solves the problem before anyone even knew it existed. That is what we are looking for from God, right? To swoop in. To save the day. These are good reasons to like this text, but they all miss the point.
The first Sunday after Epiphany is traditionally a time to think about the baptism of Jesus. It is common on this Sunday for preachers to make connections between Jesus’ baptism and our own. That seems like a natural move, for most sermons are directed primarily to the baptized.
On Christmas morning many congregations sang Isaac Watts’ familiar hymn, “Joy to the World.” My home congregation was among them. I was already thinking about Epiphany and Matthew’s account of the magi as I sang, which is probably why the third verse caught my attention.