[Sixty-third in a series of posts on Martin Luther’s Small Catechism]
For many Christians, Holy Communion is a very personal thing. Even those who think of it as a symbol and not a sacrament cherish it. It has a way of strengthening their faith in Jesus. So it comes as a surprise to many that the Lord’s Supper has a way of doing the same thing between Christians. St. Paul says, “because there is one loaf, we, who are many, are one body.” (1 Corinthians 10:17) When we eat the bread and drink the cup, we proclaim together his death until he comes. (1 Corinthians 11:26) So, when we commune together, we are confessing that we share the same faith as well as receive the benefits of the sacrament.
This is why Confessional Lutherans practice Closed Communion. All those who share the sacrament with us proclaim that what we teach is what they believe. Since non-Lutherans may not believe this, we do not want them to be saying something they do not believe. It is also why we do not commune at churches whose teachings we do not believe. In addition, if a communicant does not believe they receive Christ’s body and blood with the bread and wine of the sacrament, they may not examine themselves before receiving it. In love, we ask them not to put themselves in danger of sinning against Christ when they receive it. Because we do not want this divide to remain, we take every opportunity to study God’s word with them on subjects we disagree about.
Sermon on John 17 Fifth Wednesday in Lent Zion Lutheran Church Guttenberg, Iowa 25 March 2026
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
This reading that we had this evening comes from the last prayer that we have recorded from the mouth of Jesus before he died (John 17). It was said in the Garden of Gethsemane, and while the disciples were trying to stay awake, they were depressed, confused, and did not know whether up or down was coming.
It had been a whirlwind of a couple of weeks. A sense of things leading toward conflict grew with each step that they took toward Jerusalem.
Jesus had healed a blind man in Jericho (Luke 18:35–43), a clear sign of the Messiah. Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead in the sight of the priests, not miles from Jerusalem, after he had been dead for four days (John 11:38–44), yet one more sign of the Messiah.
On Palm Sunday, Jesus deliberately rides a donkey along the road that David took (1 Kings 1:33–34). He rode on a donkey, fulfilling prophecy (Zechariah 9:9), just as David had taken that very same road to reassume his throne, and just as his son Solomon had done, also riding a donkey into Jerusalem.
The sign was unmistakable to the pilgrims gathering for Passover, as the Passover lambs streamed in along the same road from Bethlehem, headed toward the temple for sacrifice.
He accepted the praises of the crowd, “Hosanna to the Son of David, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord” (Psalm 118:25–26; Matthew 21:9), and none of this was lost on the priests and those around him. The disciples were both joyful and just a little bit nervous.
The road led up and across the brook Kidron and directly into the temple complex, where Jesus was to drive the money changers out of the temple (Matthew 21:12–13) for three days and argue with the scribes and the Pharisees as they tried all the trick questions they could think of. Every one of them, Jesus deftly turned aside, and the disciples could not miss the hatred in their eyes. They knew something was up, but they really didn’t know exactly what that was.
Thomas long ago had conceded that he was headed toward Jerusalem to die: “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (John 11:16).
It’s not only that, but Jesus had this tendency over the years to constantly predict his suffering, death, and resurrection, all at the hands of the scribes and the Pharisees (Matthew 16:21; Mark 10:33–34; Luke 18:31–33). And so, unsettled, they were listening to him, wondering half what this last teaching really meant for them.
And so, Jesus, quite aware of all of this, prays for them and for us.
What Is It That Bothers You Today?
We have quite a few things in this life: the usual litany of the phases of life—sickness, grief, death, hurricanes, tornadoes, all kinds of disasters that come our way, and ups and downs in the economy. Just when you think you can pay for your gas, you pull into the gas pump, and the price has jumped again.
All these things can worry and build on you. And if it’s not that, it’s chronic aches and pains, the issues that you find with workers and people alongside you. And any time you open your mouth to say anything to people about Jesus, you get at best a polite look of disdain and maybe even some ridicule along the way.
“In the world you will have tribulation,” Jesus told us (John 16:33). And he was right. We do have tribulation at every turn. These, he told us, are a sign that we are in the last days (Matthew 24:8), in the same way that you know that when labor begins, a woman is about to deliver her baby. And you might not know when, but you know it is coming, and it is coming soon.
And so it is we know that the end will come for us, either at the end of our days or at the end of all days, whichever the Lord wills.
The World, the Devil, and Our Own Sinful Flesh
The world itself is also preoccupied with everything that is on its agenda, each and every one of us being of the opinion that we, of course, should rule the world. And so we seek our own happiness, and the commercials and the television programs and the internet all urge us to splurge, to buy, to enjoy ourselves, to have all kinds of luxuries, that we are really right when we think that we are better than the people next to us and the people down the street.
Chief of sinners though I be… we might think all the rest are worse than me.
The devil’s accusations also play into this. Just as the devil tried to throw Jesus off his game with all of his sly things—“Turn these stones into bread… Bow down to me… Throw yourself down from the pinnacle of the temple” (Matthew 4:1–11)—so the same kinds of things also bear down on us.
When we know that we have to be disciplined, that we have to guard our lives so that we please God and our neighbors, so that we live in peace with people, and so that we raise our children well, we discover that sometimes those are very, very long paths and very, very long drawn-out things that you have to engage in, that could take you years to do. And so, taking a little shortcut, even if it’s not quite kosher, is a very tempting thing that comes our way.
Our own hearts, you see, are still inclined to sin (Romans 7:18–25), although we have been baptized and washed by the blood of the Lamb (Revelation 1:5), that we have been made his children and heirs, and a new person put in our hearts (2 Corinthians 5:17). That old Adam and that old Eve still keep coming along, and as is sometimes attributed to Luther, although I can’t find it in him, the old Adam is a good swimmer—very hard to drown in the waters of baptism (Romans 6:3–6). And he will be with us until the day that we die, and the Lord relieves us of him once and for all.
But in the meantime, we have all these things that tempt us to sin, and more often than we would like, we fall into those sins and have to start all over each day, asking for forgiveness and trying one more time.
“I Pray for You”
In the midst of all of this, which can get sometimes very confusing, they say that when you go into a battle, the moment that the first shots are fired, the smoke and the noise and the splashing of light is such that nobody knows where anybody or anyone else is, and the confusion is almost as bad as the violence around you.
And so it is in our world sometimes. We really can’t figure out what’s up or down some days.
And that’s why it is good that Jesus says, “I pray for you.” (John 17:9, 20)
Jesus, you see, rescued us from this, taking all of these sins, all of our doubts, all of our worries, all of our fear, and went to the cross right after he prayed this prayer, where he suffered and died that our sins might be completely paid for, washed away by the shedding of his very own precious blood on that cross (1 Peter 1:18–19).
And when he died and paid for it once and for all and said, “It is finished,” (John 19:30), it was really finished. Our sins are forgiven. Our lives are promised to be with him forever. And when our time comes to an end, that is where we will be, with him in glory forever and ever (Philippians 1:23).
And so he prays for us because he knows exactly what this life is like. One of the side benefits of the incarnation is that God walked as a man, suffered, had the same pains and the same temptations as each one of us (Hebrews 4:15), and knows very well what we’re up against. And so when he prays, he prays for what he knows very, very well.
Just as he begins to pray, it is not the last time he does so. It sounds like it—the High Priestly Prayer comes to an end, he’s arrested and off to the cross. But we’re told in various and sundry different places that in the midst of this world, in the midst of all of the trials and tribulations and the groanings that we have in this world, that Jesus is at the right hand of God interceding for us (Romans 8:34; Hebrews 7:25).
Now, on the side of him, the Holy Spirit is at work, listening to us, and when we don’t have the words to pray, praying those words himself for us (Romans 8:26–27).
In that promise, we can stand knowing that every day of our lives, not only are we not alone, but that God himself is praying to God for us. You really can’t lose when that’s going on.
Why Does He Pray?
And as if that were not enough—and it sure is—he continues to encourage us through the reading, the singing, and the preaching of his word (Romans 10:17), through the waters of baptism (Titus 3:5), through the comfort of hearing God’s own voice through your pastor forgiving your sins (John 20:22–23), through the sacrament of his body and blood where we receive the very body and blood of Christ shed for us for the forgiveness of our sins (Matthew 26:26–28).
In all of this, why does he pray?
He prays that we would be forgiven (John 17:17).
He prays that we would be one with each other and with the Church in heaven (John 17:21–23).
He prays that we would be made holy (John 17:17).
And you know, if God prays to God, there’s only one answer to that prayer, and that’s yes.
And so we can have comfort in this:
When you cannot pray, Christ prays for you.
When your faith is weak, his prayers undergird you and hold you up.
When you are weak and don’t know what is coming next, he is there to strengthen you.
And on the last day, he will send his angel to escort you to be with him (Luke 16:22).
So it is that you live with God even now. In the center of the Holy Trinity, in that family of persons that are one being, yet three, we are also one in some mysterious way with him, even in this life (John 14:20; John 17:23).
For Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me, even though he dies, yet shall he live. And he who lives and believes in me shall never die.” (John 11:25–26)
And so it is with us. As we walk in this life, we can be confident that no matter what comes our way, Jesus is with us and he prays for us. And that is really, really good enough.
Encore Post: From Monday to Wednesday of Holy Week, Jesus taught in the temple. His opponents challenged him several times. He told parables against them and warned people about him. First, the priests asked by what authority he did the things he did. Jesus countered by asking them whether John the Baptist was from God. Because they would not answer, he would not either. (Matthew 21:23-27)
Jesus’ three parables were his last attempt to call his opponents to repentance. They were the Parable of the Two Sons, the Parable of the Wicked Vineyard Tenants and the Parable of the King’s Wedding Feast. The point of all three was that his opponents pretended to serve God but were really disobedient. (Matthew 21:28-22:14)
His opponents responded with several test questions: Should we pay taxes to Caesar? Who will be the husband of a woman in the resurrection who was married to seven brothers without having a child? What is the greatest commandment? His answers were so profound that they did not follow up. (Matthew 22:15-40)
He then posed a question to them: if Christ is David’s son, why does David call Christ Lord? They did not answer.
The majority of what Jesus taught that week, however, was about his second coming and eternity. In this way, he prepared his disciples for his approaching death. One on the evenings of this week in Bethany, Jesus’ friend Mary anointed him with expensive perfume for his coming burial.
Palm Sunday Sermon Zion Lutheran Church, Guttenberg, Iowa and St. Paul Lutheran Church, McGregor, Iowa 29 March 2026 Rev. Michael Brent Keller
Dear saints, the Jewish leaders have wanted to kill Jesus for months, if not years. Finally, they get their chance. Judas goes to the chief priests and asks, “What will you give me if I deliver him over to you?” The answer, thirty pieces of silver, was enough for him, and he started looking for the opportunity to earn that silver.
Jesus is not ignorant of this scheme, and He speaks of it in the Upper Room. He had always known His hour was coming; that He would be handed over to those who hated Him and be crucified. But that also does not mean He wanted Judas to commit treason against his God. But the time does come. Judas brings a mob to the garden, and Jesus is arrested, and your Lord’s passion is well underway.
Something else occurs in the Upper Room. Jesus warns of what is coming, and Peter boldly proclaims that, even if the rest run away, he would never. “Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.” Peter said to him, “Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you!”
But they all run in the garden. And Peter enters the courtyard near where Jesus is tried. During the trial, two different slave girls asked if Peter was a disciple. Finally, a different bystander asks. The denial turns to oath and culminates with invoking a curse upon himself. And then, the crow pierces the air, and Peter begins to weep bitterly.
As this happens, Judas is also paying attention. And when he sees Jesus condemned, he regrets what he did. He changes his mind. But notice what Scripture says he does not do: repent. Nonetheless, he feels the weight of what he has done, and it leads him to return to the chief priests. Those who are supposed to be the shepherds who guide and share the word of the Lord. He confesses his sin and brings back the silver. But whatever absolution Judas sought, he did not find. These religious leaders have no compassion for Judas, and in their hatred of Christ, they also dismiss his remorseful disciple. They leave it to him to care for his sin. And in grief, Judas throws the silver at their feet and flees the temple.
But the guilt remains. And it breaks him. Sorrowful for his betrayal, Judas fails to seek his Lord. Perhaps he feared what would happen if he did. Even after he sought those who hated Jesus and who treated him with contempt. And now, instead of looking to Jesus for absolution, he takes the priest’s advice. And to make matters worse, he decides that he must be the one to pay for the curse he has put himself under by betraying innocent blood. He judges himself guilty, sentences himself to death, puts himself on a tree, and hangs himself. He knows the Law. He knows the penalty. And so, he takes it all upon himself. He condemns himself and dies for his own sin.
But Peter does not deal with it himself. He does not try to fix it himself. Instead, he stays with the rest of the disciples. On the day of the Resurrection, he is with them in the upper room. He is with them in the days that follow when he decides to go fishing. And he is with them when they encounter Jesus on a seashore. Where Jesus questions and absolves him, restoring him to the Twelve. And when he leaves, he is unburdened.
Judas betrays our Lord, and Peter denies Him. But afterward, Peter is repentant while Judas is remorseful. Peter receives absolution from his Lord. Judas is counselled by the priests to deal with it himself. Something he does with tragic consequences. When you sin against your Lord and God, the same options stand before you. You can feel bad for what you have done and try to fix it yourself, or you can run to your Lord and know that His absolution is there for you.
Today, the week that leads to the cross begins. Your Lord enters Jerusalem as King and will soon take up His throne on Calvary. There, He wins for you salvation…redemption… absolution. We see the effect of Judas’ betrayal. But even more, we witness the place where absolution for Peter…for you…is claimed. Amen
Encore Post: “It is better for you that one man should die for the people, not that the whole nation should perish,” prophesied Joseph Caiaphas, the High Priest. (John 11:50) On his way to Jerusalem, Jesus had healed a blind man, performing a sign of the Messiah. A week before the first Palm Sunday, Jesus was at the Bethany home of his friends, Mary and Martha. The week before, in this bedroom community, he raised their brother Lazarus, who had been in the grave for four days.
This unmistakable sign of the Messiah was done before their own eyes and those of their relatives and friends. People flocked to see him and Lazarus. The priests feared Jesus was going to start a rebellion, proclaiming himself the Messiah. Caiaphas knew what would happen. Pilate would destroy the rebels and level the temple and the city. Rather, one man, this man who called himself the Son of God and the Messiah, would die instead of the people. They did not realize that was God’s will — for an entirely different reason.
The Sunday before Passover did not calm these fears but intensified them. Like David had done one thousand years earlier, he rides a donkey into Jerusalem along the road from Bethlehem. It ran through Bethany, Bethphage, through the Mount of Olives, across the Brook Kidron, into the city through a gate into the Temple. The people spread their coats and palm branches on the road before him, sang praises to God, and shouted, “Save now! Son of David” (Hosanna). Jesus not only did not discourage them but also accepted their praise. The leaders of the people united in their plans to kill Jesus. He was, in their minds, a blasphemer and a threat to them and to the nation.
What they missed was that Jesus the Messiah was not intent on earthly revolution, but to die for their sins and the sins of the world and rise again to open the tombs of all believers. He agreed with Caiaphas. For weeks, he had been warning his disciples that he “had to” suffer at their hands, be crucified, die, and on the third day rise. Throughout the week, he would remind them of it. With the hindsight of being on the other side of the resurrection, we remember these events and sing: “Ride on, ride on, in majesty! In lowly pomp ride on to die. Bow Thy meek head to mortal pain. Then take, O Christ, Thy power and reign.” (Henry H. Milman, Ride on, Ride on, in Majesty, stanza five)
Encore Post: On Palm Sunday, Jesus deliberately went to his death in Jerusalem. He could have called upon the countless armies of heaven to save Him, but He did not. Knowing full well what was ahead, He went willingly. Down the road used to bring the lambs for the Passover into Jerusalem, the Lamb of God went to the slaughter. Just as King David rode into the city on a donkey 1000 years earlier, Jesus chose a donkey as his mount. When the crowds acclaimed him Messiah, he received their greeting.
On Thursday evening, Jesus gathered with his disciples to celebrate the Passover. They remembered the night when the Angel of Death passed over the doors of the people of Israel, marked by the blood of the lamb. That night, when he gave us the Lord’s Supper, Jesus became our Passover, giving us his body to eat in the bread and his blood to drink in the wine.
Later, he would be led to trial before the Sanhedrin, which met in the Temple of Solomon. Here, the Lamb of God was condemned to die. On the cross, when He said, “It is finished,” God completed the sacrifice for our sins.
What the women found when they arrived at the tomb the next Sunday morning changed everything. The stone was rolled away; the guards had run away, and an angel greeted them. “He is not here! He is risen!” Once it sank in, the disciples went from sadness to joy. For Christians, the day of worship shifted from the Sabbath to the Lord’s Day. The very people who ran away and hid for fear of arrest would face arrest, torture, and eventually death themselves to proclaim the good news of salvation because of the death and resurrection of Jesus the Messiah. Today we still proclaim the same good news. Now we were redeemed, forgiven, and restored to fellowship with God.
[Sixty-second in a series of posts on Martin Luther’s Small Catechism]
The Lord’s Supper is a great gift to us. With bread and wine, Jesus gives us his Body and Blood to eat and to drink. This gift would be precious, even if that was all there was to it. But God gives us much more in this sacrament. He meets our greatest need, to be forgiven of our sins.
The greatest disaster that comes from Adam and Eve’s disobedience is that it separated them — and us — from God. Cut off from the source of life itself. It brought death to all of us. By giving his body on the cross and shedding his blood there, he paid the price for sin, earning us the forgiveness of sins and reconciling us with God. With the reason for our eternal death removed, the seal of the grave is broken. We are saved and will live with him eternally.
In Baptism, God applies these benefits to us. Yet our sinful nature remains in us. “The old Adam is a good swimmer,” the old quip goes. (No, Martin Luther likely did not say it!) Constantly harassed by the world and its temptations, the sweet lies of Satan, and the lure of our passions, we sin often. The Lord’s Supper forgives our sins and assures us of God’s love for us. It is communion with Jesus in the most intimate way. It is as the ancient liturgy for anointing the sick, “bread for the journey.”
So, we receive this precious gift often. After all, Jesus is really present there. And where he is, there we also want to be.
[Sixty-first in a series of posts on Martin Luther’s Small Catechism]
The Lord’s Supper is really very simple. At his last Passover meal, Jesus took bread, broke it, gave it to his disciples, and said, “This is my body,” and took a cup of wine and said, “This is my blood.” When we eat this bread, we also eat his body, and when we drink this wine, we drink his blood. From the day the Lord instituted this sacrament until the Reformation, all Christians believed that these words did what they said. They also realized this was a mystery that human reason cannot possibly begin to understand.
Because we cannot understand how this can be true, the Reformed and Evangelical traditions believe that Jesus did not mean these words literally, but that the sacrament is a meaningful symbol that reminds us of Jesus’ death on the cross for the forgiveness of sins. They argue that a human body can only be in one place at a time. Since Jesus is now in Heaven, the literal body and blood of Jesus cannot be in the elements of Holy Communion. This way of interpreting the words of Jesus, however, relies not on Holy Scripture but on our capability to make sense of them.
The problem with this approach is that it causes all kinds of other difficulties. Human wisdom is limited because we are creatures and God is our creator, and because we are sinful and God is holy. We can never know for sure that we are right when we depend on our reason. So, Lutherans are content to use our reason to understand what God’s word says and then believe it, even when we cannot put it all together. We let the Bible be the master of our minds and not our minds the master of the Bible. (theologians call these approaches the ministerial and magisterial uses of reason) When we alter the meaning of Scripture based on reason, we end up with all kinds of unintended problems. For example, if Christ’s resurrected body can be in only one place at a time, Heaven, then how can he be as he promised, “with us always until the end of time” (my paraphrase of Matthew 28:20)
Since all the passages which report the institution of the Lord’s Supper are simple reports of the historical events and none of them have poetry, teaching or preaching in them, we take them at face value. They mean exactly what they say. When Jesus says “this is my body” and “this is my blood,” we believe that is exactly what the Lord’s Supper is: Bread together with the body of Christ and wine together with the blood of Christ. We wonder at the mystery of it all and thank God for the gift of his own flesh and blood to us, uniting us to him now and forever.
In Israel, an ancient inscription is set in the floor of a church. Verbum Caro Hic Factum Est (here the word was made flesh). Emperor Constantine had the church — and these words — built there in the 4th century. (300s). There, his mother, Helena, was told that God had become a man. It is not in Bethlehem. It is Nazareth, the place thought to have been the girlhood home of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Ancient tradition identified it as the place where the Angel Gabriel had announced the incarnation of the Eternal Son of God in her womb. Here, it was believed the impossible happened — the finite contained the infinite. The Author of Life became the child of a Jewish girl. To all Christians who confess the doctrines of the Nicene Creed, she is known as the θεοτόκος (theotokos) — the bearer or the Mother of God.
On March 25th, the church celebrates it as the Annunciation. We celebrate on March 25th — nine months before Christmas — right in the middle of Lent or early in the season of Easter. From the perspective of human logic, it is backwards.
Religions invented by humans are all about people seeking God, going on a quest, doing one work after another, performing one ritual after another. Greeks and Eastern religions are all about getting rid of the flesh and the physical world, ascending into the heavens spiritually. The goal is to shed the body for what’s really important — the spiritual.
The incarnation is the first and greatest revelation — epiphany. We don’t seek God — God seeks us. We don’t strive to climb Jacob’s ladder — he comes down it. The Son of Godis the Son of Man. He is in every way like us — except he didn’t sin. He brings to us grace after grace.
The incarnation tells more than about God. It tells us that flesh and blood are good, not to be despised or rejected, but to be celebrated and accepted. We are very good, just the way God made us. We are male or female, short or tall, big or small-boned, a unique combination of traits chosen by God so that none of us — even twins — are exactly the same. In baptism, he calls us by name and writes our names in the Book of Life. What he wants is each one of us. It is for us he was born, lived a perfect life, suffered, died, rose, and ascended into heaven. And it is for us he will come again. He will call our name when he summons us from the grave and transforms us for life everlasting. The truth is, he became flesh to live with us — now and forever.
[Sixty in a series of posts on Martin Luther’s Small Catechism]
Baptism is for everyone — every person of any place, color, class, race, country, or age. God wants to save everyone. The Lord’s Supper, however, is for Christians only. (1 Corinthians 10:14-22) St. Paul tells us that sometimes even Christians should not receive this sacrament. (1 Corinthians 11:27-32) So… who is the supper for?
Sincere Christians have often worried much over whether they are worthy to receive the Lord’s Body and Blood. Did they sin too much? Did they forget to apologize for something or to forgive someone? Should they go to the altar or not?
Martin Luther takes this up in his Catechisms (Small Catechism 6.5, Large Catechism 7.75): “he is truly worthy and well prepared who has faith in these words: Given, and shed for you, for the remission of sins. But he that does not believe these words, or doubts, is unworthy and unfit; for the words For you require altogether believing hearts.” If you realize that you are a sinner, in need of forgiveness, believe that Jesus offers you that forgiveness with his body and blood and the bread and wine of the Supper, then it is for you.
St. Paul’s warning is for those who are sinning in the process of going to the Sacrament. If you really do not want forgiveness for some or all of your sins, watch out. You are, at best, treating trivially the very Body and Blood of your Savior, sacrificed on the cross for you. At worst, you mock the Lord’s Supper. This you would do to your peril.
This is why Christians take a moment to prepare to receive Holy Communion. Luther’s Christian Questions and Their Answers are very helpful for this. Remember your sins, your need for forgiveness, and that Jesus desires to forgive you. Then joyfully go to the altar to receive the sacrifice he made for you, being united with him and your brothers and sisters in Christ.
