Jesus predicts His death and resurrection three times.

In Luke chapter nine, Saint Peter confesses that Jesus is “the Christ of God” (Luke 9:20).

Then—“[Jesus] strictly warned and commanded them to tell this to no one, saying, ‘The Son of Man must suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised the third day’” (Luke 9:21-22).

This is followed, immediately, by Jesus saying to them all, “Take up your cross daily and follow me” (cf. Luke 9:23).

But they don’t hear Him—they don’t understand.

Later in chapter nine, Jesus “rebuked [an] unclean spirit, healed [a] child, and gave him back to his father” (Luke 9:42).

“And they were all amazed at the majesty of God. But while everyone marveled at all the things which Jesus did, He said to His disciples, ‘Let these words sink down into your ears, for the Son of Man is about to be betrayed into the hands of men.’ But they did not understand this saying, and it was hidden from them so that they did not perceive it; and they were afraid to ask Him about this saying” (Luke 9:43-45).

Again, they fail to hear Jesus—to understand Him.

We’re told, in fact, that “it was hidden from them so that they did not perceive it” (Luke 9:45).

They’re afraid to ask Him about what He’s said, and then, of all things—they argue about who among them is greatest.

And today, in Luke chapter eighteen, Jesus predicts His death and resurrection again, saying, “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and all things that are written by the prophets concerning the Son of Man will be accomplished. For He will be delivered to the Gentiles and will be mocked and insulted and spit upon. They will scourge Him and kill Him. And the third day He will rise again” (Luke 18:31-33).

“But they understood none of these things; this saying was hidden from them, and they did not know the things which were spoken” (Luke 18:34).

This is where we come in.

The thought and concept of death is, for many, either foolish or offensive.

To die well…to die a good death…or to sleep expecting to wake up, as the New Testament frames it, these should be how we speak—but they’re not.

Rather—it’s foolish, some say, to waste time talking about death because—what good can come of it?

And—it’s offensive, some say, to assert that death will occur at all, especially when someone you love is dealing with a bad diagnosis.

On the one hand, why waste your time?

And on the other, why make it worse?

Perhaps you think it better to be ignorant of a thing with unrealistic expectations than knowledgeable and have to deal with reality.

It won’t get us—if we don’t talk about it.

It’s not real—if we don’t say it out loud.

I recently read the account of a woman who is no longer Christian. When her husband died she was told by members of her religion that he must have lacked faith or he wouldn’t have died.

He must have committed some terrible sin or he wouldn’t have suffered as he did.

There are people who claim Christianity who believe that, and it is not true.

I recently watched an interview with an atheist who thought he was really smart. He said that if God is all-powerful but does nothing about evil in the world, then He is either not loving or not all-powerful and would therefore be unworthy of worship.

That sounds so smart, but he fell victim to one of the classic blunders—never go in against God when death is on the line—or think that death and suffering is without point or purpose.

Death is, to many, either foolish or offensive.

“Jews request a sign, and Greeks seek after wisdom; but we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling block, [a scandalous offense,] and to the Greeks foolishness, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ [is] the power of God and the wisdom of God” (cf. 1 Corinthians 1:22-24).

In and to a world obsessed with death and dying but oblivious to what kills and makes alive, we preach Jesus Christ and Him crucified.

We, Christians, know better than any other that through the suffering and death of One there is salvation for all.

We, Christians, know better than any other that through the daily taking up of our cross, following Jesus, we “partake of Christ’s sufferings” (1 Peter 4:13).

That’s how St. Peter writes it.

And—“If you are reproached for the name of Christ, blessed are you, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you” (1 Peter 4:14).

This is a hard saying, and we’re not alone in our befuddlement.

When Jesus predicts His death and resurrection, “[the disciples] understood none of these things; this saying was hidden from them, and they did not know the things which were spoken” (Luke 18:34).

This is where we come in.

Death concerns us, because we know it’s coming.

Death frightens us, because we know we can’t beat it.

Death humbles all men, because it can find any man at any time.

It’s foolish and offensive to talk about it.

But we preach Christ crucified.

Jesus said, “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and all things that are written by the prophets concerning the Son of Man will be accomplished. For He will be delivered to the Gentiles and will be mocked and insulted and spit upon. They will scourge Him and kill Him. [But] on the third day He will rise again” (Luke 18:31-33).

For the disciples and for us, as proof of the power and love of God, He restored the sight of the blind man.

“Hearing the multitude passing by, he asked what it meant. So they told him that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by. And he cried out, saying, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’ Then those who went before warned him that he should be quiet; but he cried out all the more, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!’” (Luke 18:36-39).

And here we see the good that can come of suffering, the good that can come of blindness even. That man had faith greater than all twelve of the disciples.

He persisted in his prayer and was unfazed by the masses.

Jesus commanded him to be brought to Him and said to him, “Receive your sight; your faith has saved you” (Luke 18:42).

Jesus foretold His death and resurrection three times, which was a fine thing to do but hidden from them all.

But then He speaks blind eyes open.

“And all the people, when they saw it, gave praise to God” (Luke 18:43), because He just proved He can do all the things He promises.

And so, for the disciples and for us, as proof of the power and love of God, He died in the place of sinners, forgiving the sin, and was raised on the third day.

All of what God promises is true.

You can die a good death and die well.

That is, you can live to the Lord, fearing neither what is or is to come.

Well and faithfully, you can suffer for doing good and bear the cross God gives you.

You can thank God that He counts you worthy to partake of Christ’s sufferings. Blessed are you.

“If anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in this matter” (1 Peter 4:16).

To my shame, I heard recently the story of some Lutherans in Africa—a place, to be sure, we would all at first look down on.

These Lutherans happen to be a four hour drive away from militant Muslims who seek to kill Christians and steal their children.

What we see on the nightly news—or really, what we don’t see—is, for them, real life and an every day affair.

Nevertheless, knowing that there are those close by who desire their death and the death of all Christians, they not only go to church every Sunday—they bring their kids to Sunday School for two hours before the service begins.

Too much breakfast or fifteen minutes less sleep than normal might be enough of a temptation for us to skip Sunday School and even church all together.

To our shame we should hear that there are Lutherans who live under such a daily burden and yet glorify God with exceeding joy, giving Him praise.

Jesus foretells His death and resurrection—He restores sight to the blind—so that you can suffer all, even death, in faith that trusts that God has suffered all, even death, that you would be saved, body and soul, from sin and satan, death and hell, and be raised to life eternal.

And all the people when they saw it—when they heard it—gave praise to God.

In Jesus’ name, Amen!

Quinquagesima, 2021
Luke 18:31-43
Rev. Benjamin Tyler Holt

Jesus said to him, “Recover your sight; your faith has made you well” (Luke 18:42). That’s how it was read a few moments ago, but that’s not quite right.

The man is well. Jesus restores his sight. But the actual word that Jesus uses is saved. It could read, “Recover your sight; your faith has saved you.”

The King James has it that way, for what it’s worth.

And here’s why it matters: if faith makes you well, we’ll doubt our faith every flu season.

We’ll think the man was made well because Jesus restored his sight.

That’s wrong because faith doesn’t guarantee good eyesight, otherwise there’d be no blind, deaf, weak, hurting, or sinful Christians.

 Jesus doesn’t say “made well.” He says saved.

Faith in Jesus Christ doesn’t guarantee good health. It doesn’t guarantee eight hours of sleep each night or nine months of ease whenever you need it.

Lots of other false gods promise those things—but not faith in Jesus.

But faith in Jesus does guarantee salvation.

And nothing else does that.

But here’s where it’s most difficult:

In our day-to-day lives, for which do we feel the greater need?

Eyesight? A clean bill of health? Wealth? Ease?

Or salvation?

The Gospel lesson today hits us hard, because it contrasts the seeing (and unbelieving) disciples with the blind (but believing and therefore saved) beggar.

And we should prefer to be the blind beggar.

Though you don’t want to be blind, you really don’t want to be one of the Twelve, because at this point, they don’t understand.

“Taking the twelve [disciples], [Jesus] said to them, ‘See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written about the Son of Man by the prophets will be accomplished. For he will be delivered over to the Gentiles and will be mocked and shamefully treated and spit upon. And after flogging him, they will kill him, and on the third day he will rise’” (Luke 18:31-33).

Jesus could not be more clear. 

Seventeen times prior to these verses in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus refers to the Son of Man.

The disciples know it’s Him.

And yet, St. Luke writes that ”they understood none of these things. This saying was hidden from them, and they did not grasp what was said” (Luke 18:34).

In three separate ways, Luke tells us that, seeing, the disciples do not see. Hearing, they do not understand. And having Jesus there, they yet have nothing at all because they lack faith.

And so we read of the blind beggar.

“As [Jesus] drew near to Jericho, a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging. And hearing a crowd going by, he inquired what this meant. They told him, ‘Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.’ And he cried out, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’ And those who were in front rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he cried out all the more, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!’ And Jesus stopped and commanded him to be brought to him. And when he came near, he asked him, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ He said, ‘Lord, let me recover my sight.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘Recover your sight; your faith has saved you’” (Luke 18:35-42).

This beggar is the example of faith.

This blind beggar is a perfect illustration of the Christian because he’s blind (which means he believes what he hears) and because he’s a beggar.

We are all beggars. This is true.

Each of us, before God, is an empty cup needing to be filled. Each of us, before God, has nothing to offer God that He needs. We are, arms outstretched and palms up, in need of what He has to give.

And this blind beggar gets it. Literally blind, he hears and believes and trusts.

Having Jesus there, he has everything.

Notice, Jesus is near and the beggar cries out, “Son of David, have mercy!” He knows who David was.

He knows who Jesus is.

So yeah, this beggar gets it. “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy.”

But what happens? This blind beggar and example of the Christian faith cries out to what end?

He’s rebuked by the crowd.

And it at least seems like Jesus is ignoring him.

Jesus, who knows all things, doesn’t answer him immediately—and that’s on purpose.

We should all learn to be like the blind beggar.

He ignores the rebuke of Man out of faithfulness to God.

And he’s got thick skin. He remains faithful and cries out all the more even when it seems that God Himself is silent or uncaring.

Practical wisdom tells us the squeaky wheel gets the grease and the impudent friend what he needs.

But God wants to give you all that you need. So how much more will our Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him (cf. Luke 11:5-13).

Prayers stay the same for years, sometimes.

That God doesn’t give you what you want doesn’t mean He hasn’t given you everything you need.

Maybe you want for yourself what God doesn’t want for you? If that’s the case, it’s not God who should change.

That’s a difficult lesson to learn.

But we’re not alone in having to learn it.

Nor are we supposed to keep our desires to ourselves.

The blind beggar can’t see Jesus, but he trusts that Jesus hears. He trusts that Jesus answers. So when rebuked by Man and seemingly ignored by God—when it would seem that he has all the reasons in the world to stop praying—he cries out all the more, because he knows that God is merciful.

Literally blind, he hears and believes and trusts.

“And Jesus stopped and commanded him to be brought to him…” He commands him to be brought to Him, because by your own reason or strength you cannot believe in Jesus Christ your Lord or come to him.

“…And when he came near, [Jesus] asked him, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ He said, ‘Lord, let me recover my sight.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘Recover your sight; your faith has saved you.’”

The faith that saves the blind beggar was there before Jesus restored his sight. It was there before he cried out the first time. It was there when he was rebuked, and it was there when it must’ve felt like God was ignoring him and refusing to answer his prayer for mercy.

The faith that saves the blind beggar is there apart from the miracle of sight restored.

And—regardless of his sight—the man is saved.

Jesus heals the blind man for many reasons.

Because the man asked.

Because Jesus is there to give sight to the blind.

But our reason—the reason Jesus did that then but not now—the reason we don’t get our miracles the way they got theirs—is because Jesus wants us to seek and ask for more than eyes that see.

He wants us to believe and be saved.

So that in the resurrection we have all that we ask for and more.

That’s what’s at stake.

Jesus, in healing the blind man, is showing us what the resurrection looks like.

And in telling the blind man that his faith has saved him—Jesus is showing us what is most important.

Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved.

And then—in the resurrection—everything else will be added unto you.

In Jesus’ name, Amen!

Quinquagesima Sermon, 2020
Luke 18:31-43
Rev. Benjamin Tyler Holt