Good Morning!
Have you ever left church on a Sunday, and asked yourself:
- what was that point he made?
- how did his points relate to the readings?
...or even...
- can I have a look at what he said?
Well, here's your chance. Each week we'll post the Sermon text on Monday, so that you can meditate on it, or at least get clarification.
Let me know how it goes!
Vicar Rich
So- here goes!
Sermon Lectionary 14 A Worship July 5th, 2026
Good morning! Welcome to 4th of July weekend. Since the 4th celebration is all about liberty, I’ve taken the liberty of adding to the “Introduction to the Day” in your bulletin:
Light shines in the darkness for the upright, the psalmist sings. Many Psalms begin with grief, and end in joy. Isaiah declares that when we loose the bonds of injustice, and share our bread with the hungry, the light breaks forth like the dawn. Paul’s letter to Rome begins in grief, and ends in joy. In another passage from the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus, the light of the world, calls his followers to let the light of their good works shine before others. Through baptism we are sent into the world to shine with the light of Christ. His yoke is easy, because it helps us be who we were created to be.
Here’s a good example of grief & joy from our reading from Paul to the church in Rome:
Paul is frustrated and angry with himself. I’ve not found a reason why, except for one theologian who thought that his speech and interpersonal skills were not as good as his letters. Hey, we’ll never know. But he shares his feelings in deep honesty within the letter, and the end has a resolution. In some ways, this sequence of grief and resolution appears many times in scripture. Especially in the Psalms. Psalm 22, which brother John chants on Maundy Thursday, is a good example. It begins, “My God, my God- why have you forsaken me?” Halfway along it says, “But you, Lord, do not be far from me. You are my strength; come quickly to help me”. And the resolution continues with, “You who fear the Lord, praise him…. 24 For he has not despised nor scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him, but has listened to his cry for help”.
What is the pattern we see at work here? If you’re feeling it, get it out- in your diary if necessary- then get through it and beyond it, with God’s help. If counseling would help, do it. But take your fears to God. It’s so much better than living a life of denial, and maybe even pain & anger, without knowing why… it’s an easy yoke- more on that later.
Similarly, we can detect frustration in Jesus’s voice in the passage from Matthew. He has ideas to correct about himself and his ministry, and he was irked by people resisting his visions of God’s way. He’s essentially saying, “if only people could grasp the depth of how eager I am to bring relief to those who need it most”.
The scene is basically Jesus’s response to John the Baptizer’s disciples. They pose a pointed question from their teacher, who appears to be contending with uncertainty: “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” (Matthew 11:3).
Jesus answers John’s question by noting the ways he is changing the world, not in an immediate broadscale manner, but through one seemingly small act of mercy at a time. Jesus then praises the Baptizer as a prophet par excellence (11:13–14). All of that is the context for what makes up our gospel reading.
Why do people fail to heed both John and Jesus? Jesus criticizes the reluctance of “this generation,” a mindset of resistance, seen in people who refuse to embrace John or Jesus. Jesus likens the folks of “this generation” to kids who refuse to go along with the rules of a game. When urged to act joyfully, they won’t dance. When the situation calls for gloom, they won’t mourn. Whether they’re foolish, immature, or haughty, they choose to be hardheaded for the sake of hardheadedness. Just like a bulldog!
Then Jesus gets more specific: John conducted his ministry with righteous intensity, yet his opponents belittled him as deranged and demonic. (After all, John was in jail at that time, because Herod Antipas was determined to silence this prophet who makes him look bad; see 14:3–4.) By contrast, Jesus conducts his ministry with joy and inclusion, yet his detractors label him vulgar, unserious, soft on sin. Yeah, it doesn’t matter what kind of messengers God sends; few want to hear from prophets and teachers.
The judgment Jesus threatened (in 11:20–24) does not say that God sets really high demands. Instead, it expresses astonishment that God’s promised blessings are not being welcomed. As we’ll see, Jesus is determined to bring comfort to those who lack it.
As happens often in Matthew, verses of judgment and mercy appear close together. We don’t need to choose one message over the other. Judgment is not an expression of Jesus’s desire to punish, but an outcome from people’s determination to obstruct mercy, or from people’s refusal to extend mercy themselves. To dismiss Jesus’s “deeds of power” is to dismiss the needs of those who benefit from his mercy. As Jesus is about to remind us, he has an unrelenting desire to see mercy spread to every corner of society.
But all is not lost. In the concluding verses, Jesus expresses his trust in God, and offers some of the most grace-filled promises in all of scripture.
First, with a doxology in 11:25–26 and a statement in the ensuing verse, Jesus acknowledges that there’s something about him and his ministry that confounds conventional wisdom (compare 1 Corinthians 1:18–21, 26–29). At the same time, God will make God’s ways known. We may want to pretend that things are more difficult than they need to be, and we may use our own brands of wisdom and practicality to keep God and justice at bay. Jesus remains nevertheless authorized by God, whom he calls his “Father,” to reveal God to the world. Jesus’s words here communicate resolve and confidence. He will be known, and the good news he proclaims will come to fruition.
At last comes 11:28–30, some of my favorite verses in the whole New Testament.
“28 “Come to me, all you who are weary & are carrying heavy burdens, & I will give
you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, & learn from me, for I am gentle & humble in
heart, & you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, & my burden is light.”
We find these appeals & promises only in Matthew’s Gospel. Jesus offers relief and rest.
It’s important to ask about the weighty burdens and heavy yokes that Jesus wants to lift from people. Elsewhere in Matthew, Jesus rails against leadership that makes religious devotion oppressive (for example, 23:4). He issues dire warnings against those who would exploit or harm children, especially by taking advantage of their humility and vulnerability (for example, 18:4–7). Jesus knows that religious obligations and leaders have the power to become severe and soul-crushing. Weighty burdens.
Also, back in Jesus’s first public speech in Matthew, his Beatitudes promise blessings precisely to those who find themselves disadvantaged, outnumbered, or at risk in this predatory world (5:3–12). His words about providing “rest for your souls” in 11:29 are not mainly directed to people with comfortable lives; read them instead as restatements of the Beatitudes. Jesus is in the business of removing the burdens that our societies and systems inflict on certain people.
He isn’t telling people to run from religious devotion, and he certainly isn’t urging people to abandon Judaism and its high regard for Torah. Yes, Matthew includes criticisms that single out certain Jewish leaders, but we must interpret those criticisms as denunciations of oppressive leadership and hypocrisy, not attacks on Judaism. As difficult as it is, we are called to look at our own traditions and communities if we need reminders that Jesus’s complaints about oppressive leadership apply broadly.
Jesus urges people toward accepting a “yoke” from him that is easy. Jewish teachers in the Second Temple period spoke of yokes as metaphors for obedience to God, especially with regard to Torah observance. The relief Jesus brings is not freedom from all obligations and accountability. It is a promise of a way that brings freedom—a life of connection to God that leads to liberation of oneself and one’s neighbors.
A yoke of obedience may strike some as unpleasant. Jesus invites people to “learn from me” when wearing his yoke, which evokes a sense of partnership, as opposed to following orders from a stern commanding officer.
You might not believe this, but it reminds me of what I’ve heard about training a horse. Horse trainers tell me that horses are smarter than we think, but they want to be part of the family, and support the goal of the owner. So horses are happy to be gently trained in how to hear and even feel the owner’s commands, and cooperate. A horse that has been gently trained to be obedient in this happy way is said to be a “meek horse”, and here meek doesn’t mean subservient and on it’s knees, it means ready for anything the owner decides needs to be done, whether galloping into the rain, or standing in battle with clubs and spears around.
So a yoke of obedience isn’t necessarily negative or painful, but purposeful toward Jesus’ goal of the Kingdom.
So- the way of Christ is a way of imitating Jesus. He won’t ask us to do anything he won’t, and Matthew tells us that what he likes doing the most is delivering blessings to those who find themselves downtrodden and disadvantaged.
You’ll find him all about here, among the burdened.
So may it be for all of us. God loves you, and so do I. AMEN.
Today’s readings call for reevaluation through the lens of the cross, a piety that serves the true needs of others, and a constructive witness to the world.
Isaiah’s oracle contrasts conventional religion with what God truly desires. The people’s practices, such as lying in sackcloth and ashes (traditional acts of mourning), ring hollow amid their quarreling, selfishness, and violence. In response, God proposes a new “fast”—one of saving others from need and oppression. The response in Isaiah 58:6-9a parallels subsequent responses (vv. 9b-12, 13-14), each concluding with a promise of God’s redemptive activity (vv. 8-9a, 10a-12, 14).
In 1 Corinthians, Paul offers his own example for consideration (2:5). Several remarks in 1 and 2 Corinthians imply that some at Corinth found his bodily presence and rhetorical skill unimpressive compared with his letters (1 Cor. 1:17; 2:3-5; 2 Cor. 10:10). Throughout his letters, Paul assumes personal experience with the Holy Spirit among the recipients, in ways they evidently would have affirmed (e.g., 1 Cor. 2:10-16; Rom. 8:9-11; Gal. 3:1-5; 4:6). In 1 Corinthians 2:6 Paul uses the word “mature” (Greek teleioi) to highlight the spiritual immaturity of some at Corinth (3:1-2). Throughout this passage, he characterizes God’s wisdom and the message of the cross as mysterious, hidden, and foolish according to society’s values. We are invited to consider how this is still the case today.
Matthew 5:13-20 follows the beatitudes (vv. 1-12) to round out a fulsome introduction to the Sermon on the Mount (chaps. 5–7). As such, Jesus’ words about salt and light (5:13-16) serve as prelude to the ethical teachings that follow. That is, the entire Sermon on the Mount shows how disciples may be “salt of the earth” and “light of the world.” These opening metaphors draw from everyday life experiences, associating the ethics of Jesus’ followers with essential ingredients for life and livelihood. The goal of such living is to direct attention to God (v. 16).
The second half of the reading characterizes Jesus as fulfilling the Law and the Prophets, which were the cornerstones of Jewish scripture. Matthew is the only gospel that characterizes Jesus this way, as the fulfillment of Jewish scripture and teaching (see also 22:40). In Matthew, exceeding the “righteousness” of the Pharisees (5:20) involves integrity of word and deed (see 23:1-12). This call for a superior righteousness is issued to disciples already following Jesus, not newcomers wondering if they are welcome. Matthew’s characterizations of the Pharisees are a narrative construct of inadequate leadership, not an objective historical portrayal. Throughout Matthew, “righteousness” is redefined, not as scrupulous adherence to the Law, but as a faithfulness to God that involves justice, compassion, and mercy toward others (1:19; 5:6; 6:33; 9:13; 12:7-8).
In our readings God in Christ expands conventional piety to invite a “fasting” that serves others and a righteousness that involves integrity of word and deed. In these ways, we embrace a deeper spiritual maturity that becomes a more welcome witness to the world.
Troy M. Troftgruben
From a Preacher
For Martin Luther, the Sermon on the Mount offered an impossible ideal. On the mountain, Matthew presents Jesus as another Moses as he teaches his disciples and elaborates on the meaning of the commandments given to Israel at Mount Sinai. Jesus unequivocally sets the bar high—the righteousness of his followers should exceed that of even the most esteemed adherents of Torah (Matt. 5:20). Perhaps it is little wonder then that Luther referred to this sermon as a “counsel of despair.”*
Given this, it might be tempting for a preacher who wants to speak a word of good news to just stick with messages of salt and light today. If a preacher chooses to go this direction, however, they would be wise to avoid too readily setting Jesus’ words on salt and light over and against what he has to say about Jewish law. In fact, the pairing of salt/light with law offers a particular opportunity both to note the distinctly Jewish flavor of Jesus’ teachings and also to shed light on a more nuanced understanding of Luther’s insights into law and gospel.
It is probably accurate to assume that many in the church will hear law and gospel as synonyms for Old and New Testaments. At his best, however, Luther recognized that God’s word, wherever it is proclaimed, is always both law and gospel. We encounter it as one or the other depending on our circumstances. This ever-present dynamic in the whole of scripture compels us in the church to consider that good news might be found in the very same verses that we had initially written off only in terms of the law.**
Luther also understood that law, much like salt and light, is not only necessary but valuable in community life. This is similar to Jewish understandings that tend to regard the law given within Torah not as a burden but as an invaluable guide to life and a tangible sign of God’s ongoing promises. Torah offers a new and living way for the people of Israel, freed by God from captivity, to relate to God and to all human beings as bearers of the divine image. This Jewish understanding of the commandments is probably why Jesus can say with such authority, “You are the light of the world” (Matt. 5:14). In the context of Torah, Jesus’ imagery of light shimmers with allusions to Genesis 1:3 (“Then God said, ‘Let there be light’”) and the story of creation. Each of us has intrinsic value and something to contribute because we are part of God’s good creation.
Contrary to misconception, Jewish law does not demand perfection. Instead, it provides a framework for acknowledging our sin while also encouraging us to let our “light shine before others,” however imperfectly, for the good of all and for God’s glory (Matt. 5:16).
Making Connections
The rite of confession and forgiveness, when done regularly in worship, assures us of God’s ongoing presence in our lives, regardless of human sin. It also runs the risk of lulling us into spiritual self-satisfaction. As the prophet Isaiah points out, our spiritual lives are ultimately fulfilled not simply in acts of worship but also in our public witness to God’s concern for the hungry, unhoused, and imprisoned. In preparation for the Lenten season ahead, the prophet’s words urge us to consider how worship practices like confession and forgiveness might inspire a renewed commitment to justice.
We approach the baptismal font, to borrow the words of Paul, not by our own power or wisdom but rather “in weakness” (1 Cor. 2:3). In his Small Catechism, Martin Luther likewise suggests that we do not come to God by our own strength but are instead called, gathered, enlightened, and made holy by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Paul’s message to Corinth about God’s hidden wisdom seems to stand in sharp contrast to today’s other readings and their emphatic call to let our light shine for all the world to see. While our witness to God’s grace is meant to be obvious, other truths remain hidden in plain sight. In worship, Christ comes hidden in ways that defy our everyday sensibilities: “alongside” plain water, “in, with, and under” bread and cup, and on the cross.
* Amy-Jill Levine, Sermon on the Mount: A Beginner’s Guide to the Kingdom of Heaven (Abingdon, 2020), xviii.
** See the following resource guide: ELCA Consultative Panel on Lutheran-Jewish Relations, Preaching and Teaching “With Love and Respect for the Jewish People” (2022), in particular Topic 7, “Law and Gospel; Promise and Fulfillment,” 33–36, elca.org/Faith/Ecumenical-and-Inter-Religious-Relations/Inter-Religious-Relations/Jewish-Relations.
Today’s readings call for reevaluation through the lens of the cross, a piety that serves the true needs of others, and a constructive witness to the world.
Isaiah’s oracle contrasts conventional religion with what God truly desires. The people’s practices, such as lying in sackcloth and ashes (traditional acts of mourning), ring hollow amid their quarreling, selfishness, and violence. In response, God proposes a new “fast”—one of saving others from need and oppression. The response in Isaiah 58:6-9a parallels subsequent responses (vv. 9b-12, 13-14), each concluding with a promise of God’s redemptive activity (vv. 8-9a, 10a-12, 14).
In 1 Corinthians, Paul offers his own example for consideration (2:5). Several remarks in 1 and 2 Corinthians imply that some at Corinth found his bodily presence and rhetorical skill unimpressive compared with his letters (1 Cor. 1:17; 2:3-5; 2 Cor. 10:10). Throughout his letters, Paul assumes personal experience with the Holy Spirit among the recipients, in ways they evidently would have affirmed (e.g., 1 Cor. 2:10-16; Rom. 8:9-11; Gal. 3:1-5; 4:6). In 1 Corinthians 2:6 Paul uses the word “mature” (Greek teleioi) to highlight the spiritual immaturity of some at Corinth (3:1-2). Throughout this passage, he characterizes God’s wisdom and the message of the cross as mysterious, hidden, and foolish according to society’s values. We are invited to consider how this is still the case today.
Matthew 5:13-20 follows the beatitudes (vv. 1-12) to round out a fulsome introduction to the Sermon on the Mount (chaps. 5–7). As such, Jesus’ words about salt and light (5:13-16) serve as prelude to the ethical teachings that follow. That is, the entire Sermon on the Mount shows how disciples may be “salt of the earth” and “light of the world.” These opening metaphors draw from everyday life experiences, associating the ethics of Jesus’ followers with essential ingredients for life and livelihood. The goal of such living is to direct attention to God (v. 16).
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