Bible Text: Matthew 8:1-13 | Preacher: Pastor Christian Preus | Series: Epiphany 2022 | The Christian message is without doubt a message that calls us to humility. We see this in our Old Testament lesson – Naaman has to be humbled, has to submit to the lowly words of Elisha without even getting to see Elisha’s face, has to give up his pride and wash himself in the dirty Jordan. And only then is he cleansed. And our epistle speaks to this humility directly: “Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight.” And so we see also the humility of the centurion, who declares himself unworthy to have Jesus enter under his roof. Jesus himself, who is our Lord and Master, and a disciple is not above his master, Jesus humbles himself to the point of death, even death on a cross, and for this reason He is exalted and we with him. But as with every virtue, this humility is a directed humility. If you humble yourself, you humble yourself under something. And it makes all the difference what that something is.
As citizens, it would be a horrible thing to direct our humility to some foreign communist ideal instead of to the constitution of our own country. As parents or teachers, it would be ridiculous to submit to our children and let them call the shots in the house or the classroom. As husband and wife, it’s a domestic disaster when husbands give up their lead in the home and instead submit to the authority of their wives. You get the point. Humility needs to be directed properly. And the first direction it needs to point is God’s Word. We humble ourselves to God’s Word.
And it is this very Word of God that tells us to be confident. This is the beautiful paradox of Christian faith. God humbles us, but in humbling us God exalts us to greater things. Like the slave girl in Naaman’s household – she’s a slave, a captive, has to submit to her master, but from her mouth comes the salvation of all the household. And this means that Christian humility entails Christian courage. Jesus humbled himself. That doesn’t mean he acted like a sissy. No, even as He went to suffer and die, He overturned tables in the temple and spoke the truth without compromise to the rulers of this world. He didn’t cower. He died triumphantly. Precisely because He put Himself under the authority of His Father’s will, and His Father’s will is always to do and confess the truth.
So it goes with us. We Christians must be humble. But we must learn to direct that humility to God’s Word and so learn courage from that Word. That’s courage to fight our own sins. It’s courage to speak the truth even when that truth isn’t popular. And as we head into the next years, it’s this courage that is absolutely essential. You will be pressured to cave to a godless culture, to call girls boys and boys girls, to go to so-called gay weddings as if you approve of what’s happening, to keep your mouth shut when the Bible’s teachings are mocked. And you’ll be expected to fall in line. God’s own words will be twisted and used against you, be tolerant, don’t judge. And you need bravery, courage, to stand on the truth, fight the good fight of faith. Not to be passive and subservient, as if Christian humility is synonymous with cowardice and inaction, but to live in the confidence that God’s Word gives.
This confidence is not in yourself. You don’t get courage from looking inside yourself. You get it from Jesus. He is your confidence and the source of all your courage. This starts with your salvation. It doesn’t depend on you. It depends on Jesus. You can boast of nothing in yourself of yourself, but you must boast in the Lord Jesus and His cross. You can’t boast of your sinful birth, but you must boast of the rebirth your Father gave you in Baptism. You can’t boast in your own flesh and blood, but you must boast in the flesh and blood of your Lord Jesus, placed into your mouth for the forgiveness of your sins. Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord.
The centurion was humble – I am not worthy he says; and he was courageous – Only say the word. Because his humility was directed to Jesus, and so His courage came from Jesus.
Whatever authority you obey in this world, you obey only if Jesus tells you to. Because Jesus has all authority in heaven and on earth. Jesus tells you to obey the government – so long as it doesn’t terrorize the good or ban church. So if the cop writes me a ticket because I’m speeding I obey. I pay the ticket. Because I’m under Jesus’ authority and Jesus tells me to obey the government. If I tell my children to eat their supper, they are bound to do it because Jesus says, “Obey your parents.” If I tell them to go to church, they must because Jesus says honor your father and your mother and remember the sabbath day to keep it holy. So we in this world obey the lesser authorities precisely because they derive their authority from the Lord Jesus. The world can’t work without this authority. That’s why every attempt to defund the police has failed, because it’s insanity. And it’s rebellion not just against law and order, but against the Lord Jesus who tells us to obey our earthly authorities.
The centurion understands authority, because he tells his soldiers to go and they go and to do this and they do it. But he understands also that all authority comes from God and that God stands before him in human flesh in this Jesus, who has all authority, the authority to speak and disease and death and leprosy and paralysis and sin flee away.
This is the source of all his confidence. Not just that Jesus has all authority in heaven and on earth, but that he wants to use it for our good. In the Garden of Gethsemane, as Jesus prays to His Father, he says, “You have given him authority over all flesh, to give eternal life to all whom You have given Him, and this is eternal life, that they know You the only true God and Jesus Christ whom You have sent.” Notice what Jesus calls His authority, His all-encompassing authority over all flesh. His authority, his Kingdom, his reign on this earth consists in taking poor sinners who are not worthy that He should enter under their roofs and exalting them. What manner of love is this, the apostle asks, that we should be called children of God? But so we are. He imposes nothing on us. He instead imposes everything on Himself, bears our sin and our shame, and promises by His own blood to be our God and use His almighty power only for our good. That’s His authority.
This is why faith acts boldly, because in humility under God our confidence is in this God. And we pray, “Thy will be done.” That’s what the leper prayed. “If you are willing, O Lord, you can make me clean.” This appeal is senseless, stupid, ridiculous, unless we know the will of this God. I do not pray, “Thy will be done” to a God I don’t know. I don’t pray Thy will be done either to a God who insists on throwing me into hell to be separated from Him forever. I can’t. I learn to agree with God’s judgment, that hell is my desert, what I have earned by my sin, but there is no way for me to say, “Thy will be done” except to the God who I know from His beautiful and everlasting Gospel has taken my hell on Himself and has loved me to His death.
Thy will be done is the humblest and most confident prayer imaginable. The petition only Christian faith can pray. To will simply means to want. And you want all sorts of things. Your flesh wants bad things, wicked things, things that you don’t even want to admit out loud. And your spirit, because you’re a Christian, wants good things, beautiful things, things we bring before God every day and every Sunday. But we commend all our wants to God. The evil things for him to forgive and wash away and free us from. The good and beautiful things for him to do with as he wishes.
This is especially important when we need courage to bear a cross, when we suffer, when we can’t understand why God hasn’t given us something good, why mom or dad is dying of cancer, why you are lonely, why you suffer with a sin you’ve prayed God to remove from you and you still are tempted with. Thy will be done, we say. Three times the Apostle Paul prayed that God would remove the thorn from his flesh, some awful torment that God placed on him, and God said, “My grace is sufficient for you. For my strength is made perfect in weakness.” And in the face of things we can’t understand faith acts, it prays, and it trusts in the will that God has revealed, the will that is sure and certain, that He who has not spared His own Son but has delivered Him up for us all, how will He not in Him freely give us every good thing? This is faith’s courage and confidence.
And so faith acts. And that acting begins with prayer. When you wake up in the morning, do you pray? Do you pray? Do you thank God that He has kept you safe in the night? Do you commend yourself to His care? Do you ask that His will be done among you, that you bear patiently whatever He gives you? Please do. Don’t reach first for your cellphone. Pray. Do it. You’re God’s child. He loves you. He cherishes you. He kept you safe throughout the night with His holy angels. He cares what happens in your life more than you do. He does. And He knows better than you do what is good for you, what you can bear, and why you need to bear it. And He will give you courage to fight the good fight of faith.
We are asked the question in our catechism, “How is God’s will done?” And we answer, “God’s will is done when He breaks and hinders every evil plan and purpose of the devil, the world, and our sinful nature, which do not want us to hallow God’s name or let His kingdom come; and when He strengthens and keeps us firm in His Word and faith until we die. This is His good and gracious will.”
Whatever else you ask for in life, whatever is going on in your life, whatever you are suffering, whatever you are enjoying, whatever you wish for the future, you pray, “Thy will be done,” to focus your heart and your mind and confidence on this, that this is not simply the most important thing, but the only thing, from which everything else flows, all crosses and all joys, life itself, that God’s will is to destroy the plan of the devil and this world and your sinful flesh, which would drag you into misery and unbelief and hell, God’s will is to keep you a Christian, to draw you to Himself to find your confidence in His Word until you die, so that, as St. Paul says, whether you live or die, you are the Lord’s. This is His priority, His will from everlasting to everlasting. And to think of that, that God’s priority, the Almighty’s will and desire, has everything to do with you and your good, that He doesn’t want to lose you, but wants you to remain His child and to defend you from every evil and to teach you to live and love as He has lived and loved you, this is to see into the very heart of God.
We pray Thy will be done to learn to want what our Father wants. And our Father wants us to be His own. To know that in Christ He has made us worthy to live and die as His children, to call upon Him in every trouble, pray, praise, and give thanks, to commend everything to Him. If that means suffering, we bear it. If it means happiness, we thank Him. His priority is ours. We are His children. That’s the legacy of our Baptism. He is our dear Father. He said, “I am willing.” He says it. He wants it. Christ’s blood is proof of it. Your Baptism is the guarantee of it. He wants you in his heaven. He wants to keep you from sin and give you the courage to speak the truth and to fight against every temptation. He wants to forgive every sin that burdens your conscience. He wants to declare you righteous on the last day by the blood of Jesus in whom you believe. He wants you to join and sing forever with the heavenly host. He wants to beat down the devil under your feet. He wants to comfort you in every sadness. And so we pray, Thy will be done from the heart in humility and confidence. God grant it for Jesus’ sake. Amen.
Let us pray:
Lord, as Thou wilt, deal Thou with me;
No other wish I cherish.
In life and death I cling to Thee;
Oh, do not let me perish!
Let not Thy grace from me depart
And grant an ever patient heart
To bear what Thou dost send me.