Are You Really Jesus' Disciple?

John 8:31-36

31 To the Jews who had believed him, Jesus said, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. 32 Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

33 They answered him, “We are Abraham’s descendants and have never been slaves of anyone. How can you say that we shall be set free?”

34 Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, everyone who sins is a slave to sin. 35 Now a slave has no permanent place in the family, but a son belongs to it forever. 36 So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”

Are You Really Jesus' Disciple?

“To the Jews who had believed him.”[1] If you were to read those 7 words in English, you’d have to think things were going well for Jesus. This was his whole mission – to preach to his own people, the Jews, so that they would believe him. To read these 7 words, you’d think that’s what was happening.

But what Jesus says to these Jews tells us something else: “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples.”[2] One word from Jesus sets the whole tone of this passage – really. Which implies that even though these Jews had believed in Jesus, they weren’t really his disciples. And what follows proves it.

Jesus promised that his true disciples would know the truth and that the truth would set them free. It sounds good! Who doesn’t like freedom? I’m sure these Jews did, but I’m equally as sure that they didn’t appreciate his implication. If Jesus was offering them freedom, then that implied that they didn’t currently possess it, which is what they say: “We are Abraham’s descendants and have never been slaves of anyone. How can you say that we shall be set free?”[3]

You don’t have to know much Bible history to know that what these Jews say to Jesus is 100%, patently false. The Jews had been slaves several times since Abraham’s day. They spent 400 years enslaved to the Egyptians. They were conquered by the Babylonians and carried off into captivity for a generation. And that’s not even to mention the current Roman occupation of Israel!

And yet, you can probably imagine the “Yeah, but”s, can’t you? “Yeah, but we still live in Jerusalem.” “Yeah, but we still worship in the Temple.” “Yeah, but we still have a Jewish High Priest… I think.” “Yeah, but the Romans are everywhere; we have it as good as anybody else does.”

These Jews, who had believed in Jesus – who had started off well – fell off in a hurry because of their own self-delusion and because of their complete reliance on anything and everything other than Jesus, whether it was their ancestry or their lifestyle or their rights or privileges. Whatever it was, they preferred relying on themselves or their circumstances more than on Jesus as their Saviour.

And Jesus is a smart guy. He could have poked a thousand holes in their argument, like I just did, but their history of slavery and the current Roman occupation of Israel just wasn’t Jesus’ concern. Their souls were. And there was a more historic, more oppressive slavery than whatever the Romans or Babylonians or Egyptians had inflicted on them. It was their slavery to sin.

And while the Jews’ response to Jesus’ offer of freedom was nothing short of delusional – not to mention a direct denial of irrefutable fact – it is understandable, if you think about it. Calling someone a slave is deeply offensive. What if someone called you a slave? You’d probably react the same way: “What are you talking about?? I’m a free Canadian. I’m a citizen, not a slave; I have rights and freedoms. I get paid for the work I do; I’m not forced to do it.” 

But listen to the way the Apostle Paul talks about our slavery to sin: Don’t you know that when you offer yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one you obey?[4] Or this passage from Peter’s second letter: “People are slaves to whatever has mastered them.”[5]

You are slaves of the one you obey. You are slaves to whatever has mastered you. How many things in your life exercise mastery over you? How many things do you give your obedience to – either because you love it or because you’re afraid not to? Could we understand our jobs as a form of slavery in the sense that I let my job dictate my whole life? Sure, you could quit any time you wanted to, but I’ve heard smokers say the same thing. Could you understand your family as a form of slavery – that you’re willing to sacrifice everything else, that everything else gets put on hold for it? Could you say the same thing about your schooling, or your sports team, or your political interest?

And maybe you’d offer your own “Yeah, but”s: “Yeah, but I have it under control.” “Yeah, but it’s only a temporary thing.” “Yeah, but everyone else is in the same situation; this is just what I have to do to get by.”

There are lots of things in this life – other than God – that try to claim mastery over us. There are lots of things that we willingly or begrudgingly give our obedience to instead of or more than God. In every case, ceding control of our lives to anything other than God is bad and wrong and should be obvious to us, but that’s just the beginning. We don’t just live as slaves to institutions in this life. We are slaves to sin.

This same 2 Peter passage starts out this way: They promise them freedom, while they themselves are slaves to depravity.[6] Peter talks about empty, boastful words, lustful desires of the flesh, living in error. What’s the sin that’s crouching at your door, desiring to have mastery over you? What’s the sin you stopped fighting a long time ago and have given yourself over to? What’s the sin you’re a slave to and can’t fight even if you wanted to?

In the same way that Jesus couldn’t be bothered by the Roman occupation of Israel, his concern for you isn’t about equalization or sovereignty or democracy or your work-life balance. His concern for you is the same as it was for those Jews. He cares about your soul. That’s why he wasn’t and isn’t content with disciples who are disciples in name only. That’s why he wants true disciples who not only understand but hold to the truth.

The truth is that you and I and every human alive has been born into slavery to sin. You’ve never known any other way of life. You were doomed to live a lifetime of subjugation to sin and to dwell for an eternity in condemnation in hell.

But it was exactly because of your slavery to sin, that the Son of God came to dwell with you, i.e. to be more than your God in name only but to demonstrate his love by giving his life, to voluntarily give up his rights and freedoms so that you could be set free from sin, to satisfy sin’s thirst for blood but to give his own so that you go free, so that your identity could change fundamentally from “slave to sin” to “son or daughter of God,” so that death and depravity could no longer claim mastery over you, but so that you could have a permanent place in God’s family, by grace, through faith in Jesus.

That’s what Reformation Sunday is all about. Martin Luther had been one of those Jews who had believed in Jesus. He even took it one step further; he was a Christian in more than just name. He had tried to live as a holy a life as humanly possible. He became a monk. He literally cloistered himself away from temptation, and when he nevertheless fell into it, he spent hours and days in repentance and prayer, trying, seeking some way to throw off the shackles of sin and guilt and shame, and searching for relief and peace and freedom.

He never found it in himself. Like the Apostle Paul, he saw the law of sin at work in his body: I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do – this I keep on doing.[7] Where Luther found freedom was exactly where Jesus told the Jews to look for it: “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”[8]

It is true that we are all born into sin. It is true that sin desires – and often succeeds at achieving – mastery over us. But it is equally true that Jesus came to set you free from sin. Jesus came to forgive your sins, with no strings attached. He doesn’t demand that you obey him perfectly. He doesn’t demand that you be better than anyone else. The mark of a true disciple of Jesus is holding to his teaching.

That means that you cherish the truth of the Gospel that we are saved by grace, through faith in Jesus. We’re not saved by what we do. We don’t earn our own freedom. It’s a free gift of God’s love.  Hold to that truth, because in it you have freedom from the accusations of the devil that you’re not good enough; you’re not, but God’s love for you is unconditional – it doesn’t depend on you, it depends on him. Hold to that truth, because in it you have freedom from the obligation to obey God’s law perfectly; Jesus already did that for you and then died for you. Hold to that truth, because in it you have freedom to enjoy life without fear that punishment is looming; Jesus earned paradise for you.

Hold onto Jesus’ teaching. Don’t just know it. Cling to it. Cherish it. Use it. Remind yourself of it day after day. You’re doing that right now by being in church and listening to his Word. Good! We have another service next week and the week after that. You’re listening to his Word right now. Good! This is just 1 out of 168 hours in a week. Use a few more this week to listen to his Word. That’s how you get to know the truth. That’s how that truth makes a home in your heart. That’s how the truth sets you free, both for this life and eternity.

There’s no question about your identity. You aren’t a slave to sin anymore. It does still crouch at your door. You do still give into it. But that’s not your identity anymore. You are really Jesus’ disciple because you do hold to his teaching. More than that, you are a son or daughter of God who has a permanent place in his family, by grace, through faith in Jesus.

That’s what Reformation Sunday is all about. That’s what the whole Christian faith is all about. Hold to Jesus’ teaching and he will set you free. Amen.

[1] John 8:31

[2] John 8:31

[3] John 8:33

[4] Romans 6:16

[5] 2 Peter 2:19

[6] 2 Peter 2:19

[7] Romans 7:19

[8] John 8:31,32

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Does Jesus Ask for too Much?

Luke 5:1-11

1 One day as Jesus was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret, the people were crowding around him and listening to the word of God. 2 He saw at the water’s edge two boats, left there by the fishermen, who were washing their nets. 3 He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little from shore. Then he sat down and taught the people from the boat.

4 When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.”

5 Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”

6 When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. 7 So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.

8 When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” 9 For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, 10 and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s partners.

Then Jesus said to Simon, “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will fish for people.” 11 So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him.

Does Jesus Ask for too Much?

Did Jesus ask too much? At first the request seems small enough: He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little from shore.[1] As far as charters go, this is about as easy as it gets. Jesus just wanted to be able to address the crowd of people who had come to listen.

The thing is, Peter had been fishing all night long. He must have been tired and ready to go home. So, even this easy charter could have been considered an imposition. But not to Peter. He had heard about Jesus. He wanted to be there, even if he had to stave off sleepiness a little bit longer. If it was an imposition it only required Peter’s passive attention.

But then Jesus asks for more: When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.”[2] There’s a difference between “a little from shore” and “deep water.” This was going to require effort now, and even more time.

Plus, remember what Simon was doing at the start of this passage: He saw at the water’s edge two boats, left there by the fishermen, who were washing their nets.[3] They had just washed and stowed their tackle for the day. Now Jesus is asking them to take it back out and start all over.

Is this where Peter’s generosity runs out? Had Jesus finally asked too much? Apparently not for Peter. He says simply, “But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”[4] And it was a good thing too! When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break.[5] Not even two professional fishing crews on two professional fishing vessels could handle this one catch of fish! If Jesus was asking much of Peter, he was giving a lot to him too.

And still Jesus isn’t done asking. After Peter blurts out his unworthiness, Jesus says to him, “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will fish for people.”[6] This is more than a boat charter or an afternoon on the lake. This is a career change! This is a seismic shift in lifestyle. This would require leaving families and possessions, familiarity and professions. That’s a lot! This has to be where Peter draws the line and says, “Thanks but no thanks, Jesus. Enough is enough.” But still no: They pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him.[7]

It was much the same story 175 years ago, when Lutherans emigrating from Europe found a new home in North America. They left all the same things behind that Simon Peter and his fishing pals did: families, familiarity, possessions, professions. They had worked hard to find a place in Europe where they could exercise their faith freely, but without much luck. The state churches of Northern Europe were almost as bad as the Catholic Church in Luther’s day – binding consciences, mixing faith with politics, legislating morality not on the basis of the Bible but on what was socially expedient.

These Lutherans had worked hard, but their efforts didn’t yield results. So they put out from shore and started over. They let down their nets in the deep waters of North America. It was going to be a lot of work. This little band of Lutherans established the Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod and from their modest beginning God built the church body we’re part of today. We literally wouldn’t be here had it not been for their hard work.

Can you imagine? Can you imagine being called upon to do so much? Can you imagine if God had told those first WELS Lutherans that the fate of generations of believers across North America depended on their “fishing”? Could you have done it?

The truth is, God doesn’t ask for much different from you than he did from those displaced Lutherans 175 years ago or than he did from those fishermen 2,000 years ago. It starts with your passive attention, like what you’re doing right now – listening to the Word, even though, passive as it is, it does cost you something. You might be coming off the night shift and choosing to be here instead of going to bed. You might be fighting sickness or anxiety or 40 minutes of travel to get here. Your passive attention is expensive. And you know it from all the times that you lose those battles – you go to bed, you can’t bring yourself to walk out the door or get in your car.

And as hard as it can be to give our passive attention to him, God isn’t even content with just that. He asks for more. He calls for a life lived in faith and for your effort on things that sometimes defy logic. That’s hard work! Sometimes you’re up for it – you help out with the fall cleanup even though it eats up your Saturday morning. Sometimes you’re not – anything else sounds better than working hard, helping out, even just getting out of the house. Sometimes you’re willing to cast your net and tell others about Jesus – you invite your friends to the movie night or fall festival. Sometimes you don’t, because it’s hard and scary, and you’re not sure how they’ll react.

And who of us can claim that we’ve done as much for Jesus as Peter and his fishing pals did, leaving everything behind to follow him? So, if even Peter with all of the good work he did do for Jesus had to confess, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!”[8] how could we say anything different? We haven’t always answered the call. We haven’t always done the work. We haven’t even always given him the bare minimum. We are unworthy sinners.

But, dear Christian, that’s the point! None of this depends on you. Not your place in God’s family. Not the results of the work God calls you to do.

Why do you suppose Jesus chose Peter’s boat? Was it because it was the nicest, the biggest, the best? Luke just says it was there: He saw at the water’s edge two boats, left there by the fishermen, who were washing their nets.[9] Jesus needed a boat. Peter had a boat. He used Peter’s boat to preach a sermon he wanted Peter to hear.

Why do you suppose Jesus told Peter to let down the nets for a catch? Was it because he could tell that Peter had expertly navigated them to the most likely place a school of fish would be at that time of day? Jesus wanted to show Peter something that would defy a lifetime of fishing experience to open his eyes to the reality of who was standing in his boat.

Why do you suppose Jesus told Peter that he would fish for people now? Was it because Peter was so good with people – so eloquent, so persuasive? Peter was there. And there were many more people who needed to hear what Peter heard, who needed to have their eyes opened to the same reality Peter needed to see with his two eyes.

That’s why Jesus said, “Don’t be afraid.” Peter really did have every reason to be scared. He was an unworthy sinner standing in the presence of the holy God. Jesus told him not to be afraid because despite his unworthiness he was loved. And that’s God’s message for you too.

We haven’t always leapt into action when the obvious opportunities presented themselves. We haven’t even always done the bare minimum. But Jesus wasn’t content to passively sit by and let us suffer for sin. He leapt into action and left his throne in heaven to pursue you, to preach his message of forgiveness for sins to you, to do the hard work of suffering and dying to wash your unworthiness away, so that you could always know his love for you.

And then Jesus sent Peter – and his brother Andrew, and their business partners, James and John – to spread the good news, to the share the Gospel, not because they were such amazing people, but because God had amazing work to do through them. And generation after generation the story has been the same. One lowly sinner-turned-believer takes up Jesus’ message and passes it on to one, two, a hundred others, and God’s kingdom grows, not because of that sinner, but through him or her. Always because of Christ but through people like you and me.

That’s what makes anniversaries – like our synod’s 175th or our congregation’s 60th – so humbling and happy. Who are we that God would work through us? But he does. We may not always see it in the moment. We might feel like Peter after a long, fruitless night of fishing. But God nevertheless chooses lowly sinners like us to accomplish his greatest miracles – the miracle of faith being born in a human through a simple proclamation of Jesus’ love.

And that can’t happen without you. Without your passive attention as you sit here today or give time for personal devotion at home. Without your active participation – to whatever degree it might be, e.g. making popcorn for guests who come to watch a movie, raking leaves to take care of the place we proclaim his Word, saying prayers with your kids before bed. You are God’s chosen instrument to proclaim his love to this world.

And through you and the work you do in his name, generations of believers will rejoice. 60, 100, 500 years from now, Christians will look back on this time and thank God for the work he did through you to fish for people. Because that’s what matters most. Not the rod or the tackle. Not the net or the boat. But the miraculous catch of fish Jesus miraculously supplied to be gathered together with you and all the rest of the saints in his heavenly home to be with him forever.

Is that too much for Jesus to ask? Not in the least. Because it doesn’t depend on you. It depends on him. He just works through you. And while he may ask a lot of you, he gives even more to you and through you for the advancement of his kingdom and to the glory of his name. May we always be humble and happy to be used by him. Amen.

[1] Luke 5:3

[2] Luke 5:4

[3] Luke 5:2

[4] Luke 5:5

[5] Luke 5:6

[6] Luke 5:10

[7] Luke 5:11

[8] Luke 5:8

[9] Luke 5:2

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