Sermon on Matthew 8:18–22 – What Does This Mean?

Sermon on Matthew 8:18–22
Friday in the Week of the 6th Sunday after Pentecost
July 6th, 2018
Kramer Chapel
Concordia Theological Seminary
Fort Wayne, Indiana

Text: “Now when Jesus saw a crowd around him, he gave orders to go over to the other side. And a scribe came up and said to him, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” Another of the disciples said to him, “Lord, let me first go and bury my father.” And Jesus said to him, “Follow me, and leave the dead to bury their own dead.”

Grace, mercy, and peace be to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.Introduction

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

The text for this morning’s meditation is from the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 8, verses 18 to 22.

Welcome to Zion on the St. Joseph—where tranquil vistas, first-class architecture, vibrant worship, and perhaps the most comfortable, well-ordered library in the world await you. Here, you sit at the feet of profound scholars, studying Scripture and the Confessions. Yes, you have chosen well—and all it cost you is your whole life.

The would-be disciples in our text did what any pious, Torah-loving Jew of the age would do: they chose a great rabbi. But Jesus of Nazareth was unlike any other. He called His own students.

And so it is with you. You are here because you believe God may be calling you to ministry, in answer to the prayers of the Church that He send workers into His harvest field.

As those early disciples discovered—and as you may have discovered upon meeting your first drill sergeant, your Greek instructor—there is much more to come. If you haven’t already, now is a good time to assess the cost. And I don’t mean financially.

Ministry requires sacrifice and dedication.

The first would-be disciple thought that becoming a scribe meant simply following the teacher and taking notes. But Jesus reminded him: no five-star hotels, no comforts—just the road, wherever it leads. The second disciple wanted to fulfill his familial duties first. But Jesus made clear: the kingdom of God comes first, even before family.

This is not a lucrative trade. You won’t make much money as a Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod pastor. Stock options? Unlikely. Appreciation? Sometimes scarce.

You’ll arrive at your first parish and discover they expect you to be “on” before you’re even ordained. I remember pulling into my first church to unload books a week before installation. I was invited to dinner to meet the daughter of a member, who happened to be in a cult. Immediately, I was on. Time for cult evangelism.

The ministry calls at unexpected hours and in unexpected ways. It’s not just on Sundays. It’s 24/7, 365 days a year. Yes, you’ll have a vacation—but pastors are often called back for funerals. Even family time may be shortened, vacations truncated, and relocations sudden. Yes, this costs you your whole life.

Sometimes, that burden is heavy. When a policeman shines a light into your bedroom window at 3 a.m., you may not respond with grace. Yet ministry calls. Sometimes you’ll wonder why you ever said yes. Sometimes you’ll be appreciated. Sometimes your sermon will hit the mark—and the congregation will growl. Sometimes they won’t receive you at all.

Friedrich Wyneken arrived in town with a breathtaking call:

“Come, we need a shepherd.” But when he introduced himself, the man didn’t even look up. “So, you’re a preacher? The sick man’s house is over there. But you probably want to see the wagoner down the block.” How’s that for a welcome?

You’ll often feel unfit. Luther’s sacristy prayer says it best:

“Lord, you have made me a pastor and teacher of the Church, and you know how unfit I am for so great and responsible an office.”

So what do you do? You don’t pack up. You don’t leave. You do what God has called you to do.

And remember what it cost Jesus to call you. Though He was God, He did not cling to equality with God but emptied Himself, became man, and went to the cross. He died for you and me, taking our sin, our pride, our expectations—and nailed them to the cross. He rose again, and we rose with Him. You are never alone.

Now, when ministry is hard, God is with you. Jesus strengthens you through His gifts—through your hands, He blesses your flock with forgiveness, life, and salvation. He is present in the Sacrament and in the prayers of saints near and far. That grandmother who can’t make it to church? She prays for you daily.

You are never alone. He lives with us every day. And when we lay down our office in death, we will go to where He is now—where there is no sorrow, sighing, crying, or pain. And on that day, we will see the true fruits of the ministry He worked through us. It will have been worth it.

And now may the peace of God, which passes all human understanding, fill our hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus to life everlasting. Amen.

Originally posted at What does this Mean? Blog: https://whatdoesthismean.blog

The posts in the blog What does this Mean? are now available at What does this Mean? | Rev. Robert E. Smith | Substack