The Eternal Gospel

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all. Amen.

I have a lot of favorite Sundays in the church year, and Reformation Sunday is one of them. Don’t ask me which favorite Sunday is the favoritest—they’re all equally favorite! But I love Reformation Sunday not just because I’m a Lutheran; I love it because it’s all about the Gospel.

And I can really sympathize with Luther. I understand how he thought. Luther believed in his very soul that when the true preaching of the Gospel went out, people would come to faith left and right. He thought that even when Jewish people heard the true Gospel—instead of the hard and distorted law they’d been taught for centuries about works-righteousness—they would convert.

So he was mystified when they didn’t. And he became, in many ways, a cranky old German. There were a lot of reasons for that—ill health, stress—but I can understand him. I too have often pondered the question: why? Why are people resistant to the Gospel, the Good News?

It’s because, deep down in our hearts, we want to be God. It’s the one area in our lives where we want full control—the spiritual realm.

In the earthly realm, we complain about how hard things are. People start planning their retirements in their twenties. You start paying into those accounts as soon as you can afford it—sometimes not until your thirties or forties—but still, you’re planning for the day you don’t have to work.

We joke about how much work marriage is, or how hard it is to raise children. In most areas of life, we don’t want to do the work—we want everything handed to us. Wouldn’t it be great if children were perfect? And by “perfect,” I mean they just did what you told them to do! But of course, you’re not perfect parents—that’s why you don’t have perfect children. You have original sin, and they have original sin.

Go back to Genesis 3. The serpent told Eve that God didn’t want her to eat the fruit because if she did, she’d be like God. So Eve, seeing that the fruit was desirable, took it and ate, and gave it to her husband—who was standing right there like a bump on a log. When Adam saw she didn’t fall down dead, he took and ate too. And ever since, that desire to be our own god has lived within us.

That’s what works-righteousness is: the belief that I have earned the favor of God, that I’m good enough. “I’m not like those other sinners. I’m not like that tax collector. I’m not like those stiff-necked Israelites in Exodus and Numbers!” We fool ourselves into thinking, “I’m good enough for God to die for. I’m special enough to earn His love. God just needs to help me out a little.”

We imagine ourselves at 95% perfect and God giving us that extra five points to make the curve. Some of you just had school flashbacks and trembled a bit!

The truth is, when it comes to spirituality, it’s a pass/fail test—and we’ve failed. “In sin did my mother conceive me.” “All have fallen short of the glory of God.” “All die.”

When you live by works-righteousness, you’re on a never-ending treadmill. You’re never good enough. You never arrive. You’ll either dull the law so you can think you’ve kept it, ignore the law altogether, or pretend sin doesn’t exist. Or worst of all, you’ll decide: “A God who demands perfection I can never achieve—I don’t want a God like that,” and walk away.

And honestly, that’s the most understandable response. Who would want a God who demands perfection but never lets you reach it?

But the true God—the God of grace and mercy revealed in Scripture—says, “You are a sinner, and My Son, Jesus Christ, has died in your place.” He fulfilled the Law perfectly. He paid the punishment for your sin. You don’t have to earn it. It’s freely given. You don’t even have to knock on heaven’s door—it’s already yours.

Before you even knew God, He loved you. Before you could ask, He acted.

You all know the parable of the prodigal son. When the son was still far off, the father saw him and ran to him. The father had been watching every day. And when the son starts his speech—“Father, I am not worthy, make me one of your servants”—the father barely lets him finish! He throws his cloak over him, puts a ring on his finger, and calls out, “My son who was dead is alive!”

That’s how much God loves you. He watches for you every day. You don’t have to earn His love—it’s freely given.

This is the eternal Gospel the angel proclaims:

“Fear God and give Him glory, because the hour of His judgment has come. Worship Him who made heaven and earth, the sea, and the springs of water.”

Why fear God? Because the terrifying thing about God is that He’s merciful. “Who is a God like You?”

In the Gospel of John, the “hour” of Jesus’ glory isn’t the miracles—it’s the cross. That’s when God’s glory is revealed.

The judgment of God is this: sinners shall die. And your sin was placed upon His Son, and He died. His life was placed upon you. Your sins have been washed away in baptism—not because of what you’ve done, but because He loves you. The meal of immortality—the Lord’s Supper—is given to you, not because of your merit, but “for the forgiveness of sins.”

The Word of God is preached here, far from Jerusalem—not because of anything we’ve done, but because God brings His Word to the nations, even to us.

We stand in a holy place—or maybe more accurately, you sit in a holy place while I stand—because God has made this place sacred to Himself. This is the place where forgiveness is proclaimed, where burdens are laid down, and where you take up the light yoke of Christ—the forgiveness of sins, grace everlasting.

Now, some people hear this and think, “So I can just do whatever I want.”

Have you ever seen O Brother, Where Art Thou? There’s a scene where a man gets baptized and says, “I’m forgiven! Even of the robbery I did!” And when someone says, “But you said you didn’t do that,” he replies, “Well, I’m forgiven for lying about that too!”

We trust that forgiveness covers all sin—not so that we live carelessly, but so that we point others to the light of Christ, to the grace of God, to the forgiveness of sins. We can tell them, “You can get off that never-ending treadmill.”

The “disapproving” parent has actually made you His child. He’s adopted you into His family of grace and mercy. You now live for God—a God of love, mercy, and grace.

One last thought:

We get a lot of visitors from different denominations. I often hear, “I’m so glad I came on your Gospel Sunday.” But what I love about our church, our history, and our understanding of Scripture is this—every Sunday is Gospel Sunday.

So yes, today is Reformation Day, and the church is dressed in red. But next week? I’ll preach on the forgiveness of sins. Last week? The forgiveness of sins. Every week until I die—the forgiveness of sins.

It is the eternal Gospel of God.

Leave this place knowing that you are a precious child of God. Your sins are forgiven—not because of what you’ve done, but because God loves you in His grace and mercy.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.