Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amen.  This morning we meditate on the Gospel Lesson, previously read.
 
As we look around us right now, as we look especially in view of the coronavirus, something that the virus has forced us to acknowledge is mortality.  I say this periodically, but one thing we do in our culture is sanitize mortality.  We treat it as if it’s non-existent.  You look on TV and in our entertainment and we glorify this active lifestyle which is all sunshine and health, but we don’t like to acknowledge that the ultimately reality for all of us is death.  In view of that we have hospitals where we take the sick—don’t get me wrong, this is a good thing for those in need of care, but this takes away the confrontation with the challenges of death.  The same goes for the dying process itself.  And this makes many unable or unwilling to deal with that reality.
 
As we look at the Old Testament, I think this gives us some insight, however.  If you’ve ever read the books of the Law which contain verse after verse of how to deal with this circumstance or that, with this sacrifice or that washing, then you might remember in the midst of that how there is this aspect where when anyone comes in contact with death, they become unclean.  And we hear that and we say, “Why?”  For example you even have language about dead animals falling on objects and those things being unclean.  On the one hand we might be inclined to argue that this is a realization, or even a revelation, of what we call germ theory.  However, we can’t take the theology of out of it.  This is because death isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.  When God created the world in the beginning, He created life and it was good.  It was very good.  Then sin came and death with it.  And death is not good.
 
However, death is now our experience, and like I said, coronavirus is forcing us to be confronted with it.  In view of that I think it’s good for us to remember that even though death is not good, even though, as Paul says, death is our enemy, we have the One who has power over death: Jesus.  As we see Jesus in the Gospel Lesson we see this power.  There is this son of this widow.  He has died and she’s left alone, and Luke tells us that Jesus has compassion on her.  And then what?  He touches the bier, the casket, and He speaks, “Young man, I say to you, arise.”  And what happens?  When Jesus speaks, that Word does what it says.  This case is no different.  The young man sits up in the bier, and he starts talking.  Those of you that watch my devotions heard me say this there too, but it’s not like the guy was not really dead, but the town thought he was, and Jesus said this and coincidentally the man started stirring and eventually was nursed back to health.  No, this is full death to full life.  Full lack of breath—as it says in the Old Testament Lesson—full lack of breath to sitting up and using breath to talk.
 
So what, then?  Then this Jesus is the One who has power over death.  This Jesus has power such that you don’t have to worry and fear death.  We have all of hullabaloo around us with COVID-19 telling you that you must be afraid, but Jesus says, “No.  No, you don’t have to be afraid.”  Why not?  Because despite the fact that death is our enemy, by the work of Jesus, by His life, by His death, by His victorious resurrection, death is now a useful servant.  For you Christian, death is the passage from this life of suffering to your eternal joy of being with our Lord.
 
And as I say that, it’s interesting how death is philosophized by so many.  I did a search this week, actually looking for a quote that I’d heard a number of times, the quote that says that we as Christians should fear death as little as we fear crawling into our beds.  Well, I’m pretty sure I’ve read that somewhere in Luther.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t find it, but in that search I found a page with all these quotes about death.  Interestingly, a huge majority of them were in that vein.  It was that vein that tells us not to fear death.  But what was sad is how many of them were from authors who weren’t Christian.  Now, you might think that’s odd that I would mourn that, but let me explain.  Why is that sad?  It’s sad because outside of the Christian faith, there is no assurance that one will receive a life after death that is an improvement over this life.  But for you as a Christian, you have that assurance.  You have that promise that as Jesus entered this world as He came and touched death for you, you have the promise of life in Him.
 
In fact, look at how Jesus touches that bier in the story.  He reaches up and stands over the cleanliness laws of the Old Testament, and He touches death.  But does it make Him unclean?  No.  That touch cleanses even death.  Now death is the place where you live.  Jesus takes that ill of death and joins it to Himself to take it away from you.
 
I’m reminded of the movie the Green Mile.  I don’t know if you’ve ever seen it, but there’s a character in it by the name of John Coffey.  No coincidence, I’m sure that his initials are J.C.  But this John Coffey has the ability to heal people.  And as he does this healing, he’ll touch them.  When their sickness has left them, then John will breathe out a stream of what looks like black smoke and flies.  He’s taken the ill into himself, and cleansed the person.  That’s your Lord, He has taken your ill upon Himself, died for it on the cross, and left it in His tomb in His resurrection.
 
And your comfort, Christian, is that He has joined you to that resurrection.  When you were baptized, you died and were raised.  Hear that again.  You don’t need to fear death because you already died.  When you were baptized, you died.  You died and your sins were buried with Jesus.  Then you were raised.  You were joined to His resurrection.  So now you’re alive.  You’re not alive in the way you were before, you’re alive in the Spirit, alive in Jesus; alive by faith in Him.
 
Now, as I say that, I know that I have heard many express their fear of dying, and I hope that addresses that fear.  I also know that many will say, “Pastor, I’m not afraid of dying, I’m afraid of something else.”
 
I don’t know if you all had a chance to look at the Lutheran Witness that came this month.  It was on the topic of the Ars Moriendi, “The Art of Dying Well.”  It’s really well done.  I suggest you read it.  What it references is the understanding in the Middle Ages that one really capped off their existence by facing death the right way.  To be clear, it’s not advocating Medieval view, per se.  However, it is advocating how we understand death.  In fact, as I said that about being afraid of something else, it lists a myriad of fears that people have when it comes to death.  It references the coronavirus and death; it references our fear because of sins, because of the unknown nature and finality of death; it references many other things too.
 
But some of the references are things I know I’ve heard as a pastor.  For example it talks about the fear of losing loved ones.  I think that’s one that I’ve heard a lot in the pandemic—and to be clear, understandably so.  Pastor Bender who wrote that response said it so well, “If we truly love someone, we will never ‘get over the death.’  Instead,” he said, “we learn to carry the burden of grief in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection and most importantly in this life, with an ever-deepening understanding of and reliance upon Christ’s love in the grief He carried for us.”  In other words, should we lose loved ones, we have strength in our Lord who knows that loss, who knows grief.  The One who mourned as well, but who most of all carried the grief of our sin to the cross.
 
Another reference was about how people fear or grieve that should they die, they will miss out on so many things they want to see and do still in this life—the good desire to see daughters get married or to be with grandchildren.  Pastor James who responded to that reminds us that as wonderful as it is to see those things, the greatest joy we have is the promise of being with our Lord.  The greatest experience we will ever know is that comfort that we’ll have when He raises our very bodies from the ground and we stand before Him and He wipes away our every tear.  As wonderful as the gifts of this life are, the Giver who gives them is far better, and has far better yet to give!
 
Finally, a section that I could really relate to in my stage of life was worry for children.  If something should happen to me, what about my children?  For me in particular, I worry about them remaining in the faith especially, as apart from my desire to see the Lord, I want to see them with me there in the Lord’s presence forever.  Pastor Woodford describes how there were two deaths in his family.  In both cases the families were provided for very clearly in God’s providential love.  As I read that, I was reminded that in my own case, I lost my mom when I was 15.  Rather than this driving me away from the faith, that’s at foundation of why I stand before you preaching this Gospel today.
 
What does all of this tell us then?  It tells us that as we face death, we need not fear.  We need not fear because we have that One who has taken death upon Himself.  In fact, you belong to that One who has taken death upon Himself, who has not only taken death but sin, your sin, your death upon Himself, and who already has promised you life in His resurrection.  Again, baptized into that, you have no need to fear, because you have been buried already and you have life again in His life.  And that goodness and that care is the same love that He has not only for you, but for the whole world.  That is the love that motivated His coming to rescues us from this realm of death.  And He has proven it by overcoming death, not only as we heard in the story, by the power of His Word, but by the power of His life.  In view of that, even though it’s not Easter, we’re going to conclude today as though it were-because every Sunday is actually a little Easter in the Divine Service—Alleluia, Christ is Risen!!
 
He is risen indeed, Alleluia.  Amen!

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amen.  This morning we meditate on the Gospel Lesson, previously read.
 
I think many of you have heard me tell the story before, but in the year that my seminary class was finishing and was awaiting calls, we had a significant portion of the class who didn’t get them.  Here we had moved to the city of Fort Wayne in all of its splendor, we had uprooted lives, some had uprooted families, many had given up opportunities for much more lucrative ventures, vocations which would bring significantly more glory in the eyes of the world.  We had spent two years sitting at the feet of our professors, spent another year in a church on vicarage, then another year in the classroom; all in preparation for that moment when our names would be called and we would hear the designation of which congregation our Lord was calling us in service to His people.  But about a third of the class came to that point only to find there would be no announcement of their name.  All of this work, and it felt for naught.  Imagine the anxiety.  Seminary isn’t cheap, how would payments be made upon the significant debt incurred?  How would food be put on the table for the wives and children of many of these men?  What would they do if they had no other experience or training to fall back on and a call never came?  And for those whose plans were in place, whether it was continuing study as in my case, or those who knew their names would be called, there was anxiety for these brothers.  Worry for them and their families.  Guilt that our future was not in question as theirs was.
 
It was in the midst of that that our current synod president preached a sermon that rings in my ears to this day.  He preached on the words from John chapter 14, “Let not your hearts be troubled.  Believe in God, believe also in me.”  And as he said what he said, I’ve always associated it with the words Jesus speaks in this lesson.  Do not worry.  O ye of little faith.
 
I know I’ve mentioned that word before, oligopistoi.   Olig as in a few or little, like an oligarchy is a rule by a few.  Pistis, that word for faith.  Oligopistoi, o ye of little faith.  You have your worries, o ye of little faith.  But don’t.  Don’t worry.
 
President Harrison told us so well.  Don’t worry.  Do you worry that God has abandoned you?  Do you worry that the God who has brought you this far would just forsake you?  Do you worry that the God who has called you by name in baptism would leave you?  O ye of little faith.
 
And look at all of the ways that you have worried before.  Look at all of the things you have been afraid would come about and be so bad, and yet weren’t.  Look at how you worry about them.  O ye of little faith.
 
And of course, that word isn’t just for a bunch of fourth year seminarians.  You have your worries too.  I know you do.  And think about how interesting it is.  Look at what Jesus is pointing to.  He talks about not worrying about what these people in His hearing are going to eat and what they’re going to wear, and we for our part are generally in very different circumstances, aren’t we?  Think about that time and place.  Think about what that meant for those hearers.  Don’t worry about what you’ll eat.  God sees the birds of the air and he feeds them.  They aren’t so concerned as to make sure they gather sufficient seed to plant their harvest for next year, but God feeds them.  And clothing, the lilies of the field aren’t concerned about beautiful raiment, yet Solomon didn’t even look that good.  And what’s the point?  Why does He pick these things?  Because they had a real worry about where these would be coming from.  Where was their next meal?  In the refrigerator?  Obviously not.  It wasn’t that simple.  Where was their next set of garments coming from?  Costco?  Obviously not.
 
And so look at how God has cared for us.  We should think that this would relieve us of worry, shouldn’t we?  And yet it’s still there isn’t it?  Oligopistoi, ye of little faith.  Yes you have your worries about the coronavirus.  You worry about getting seriously ill with it.  You worry about your loved ones getting seriously ill and even dying.  You worry about your living situations, about the future.  You worry about politics, what this election will mean for our country.  Then we have Supreme Court Justices dying and that only makes it worse.  The future of the country seemingly hangs in the balance.  And we worry about, don’t we?  All of it.
 
And yet what does Jesus tell you?  Do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.  He says, don’t worry about it.  He tells you, “which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?”  And that’s the truth isn’t it?  Your worrying doesn’t help you live longer—ironically it’s clear it causes you to die sooner.  Nor does it put food on the table and clothes on your back.  No, your worrying doesn’t prevent anything.  Your worrying doesn’t make anyone better or healthier.  Your worrying doesn’t ensure that the government will do what it should according to God’s will.  So why do you do it?  O ye of little faith.
 
Instead hear what Jesus tells you, “Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”  Now, that sounds like Law, doesn’t it?  As we talk about Law and Gospel, it sounds like Jesus is commanding something.  It sounds like He’s saying that if you just seek the Kingdom of God rightly and seek to be good enough, then God will make sure He rewards you with His care.  And when we think about our worry, that could only make us worry more, couldn’t it?  It could only make us worry that much more about food and clothes and illness and politics, couldn’t it?  Because if we don’t do it right, then God’s just going to cast us all off and we’ll be left to suffer.
 
But Christians, this isn’t a command, it’s an invitation.  After all, what is the Kingdom of God, what is God’s righteousness?  Or perhaps more pertinently, in whom is the Kingdom of God, in whom is His righteousness?  Jesus, right?  This is the kingdom with Jesus.  It’s the Kingdom He won for us.  The victory He’s won over sin, over death, over the devil, by His life, death, and resurrection. It’s the promise of His eternal care, the eternal beauty found in the nail scarred hands and the spear-pierced side.  The blood that poured out there for you and for your sin.  And it’s the promise of that Kingdom coming to you in the waters of baptism, opening its doors wide that you would be brought in.  You fear for clothing, there it is, the clothing of Jesus’ righteousness.  You fear for food, here it is the body of Christ, His very blood.
 
Christian, if He has done this for you, for your eternal care, will He not make sure He watches over you as He carries you to that Kingdom?  Of course He will.  That’s the point of what Jesus is saying.  He’s saying that if your Heavenly Father sees the birds and cares for them, if He clothes the flowers, He certainly will take care of you.  After all, God has found you worth dying for.  He will make sure He watches over you.  He had your name in His book before the foundation of the world.  He baptized you and spoke that name that you would know you are His.  He will care for you!
 
Now, as I say this, there two things that need to be noted.  First is something that was pointed out by a commentator I read for the sermon.  That is to say that this doesn’t mean the Christian is without care.  It wasn’t wrong for my brothers in seminary to desire to care for their families.  That’s right according to their vocations as husbands and fathers.  That’s something they were called to do.  It’s right that they should care.  But, in the midst of that care, Jesus calls us to the understanding that the you need not be anxious because your Father in Heaven knows your cares and concerns and knows what is best.
 
What does that mean? It means that when it comes to your worries, know that God does know what is best.  Know that He cares more for you than you do.  Know that He cares more for your loved ones than you do.  Know that He cares more for your future than you do.  Know that He cares more for this country than you do—not as a nation perhaps, but her peoples such that any hope you have in politicians, whether it be Trump or it be Biden, these are ungrounded-- Put not your trust in princes, in a son of man, in whom there is no salvation.  Don’t trust in any person or government over and above your Lord.  Because they will never care for you more than He does.  That’s the first thing to know: that He knows what it is best and cares for you.
 
In fact our Lutheran Confessions say “God ordained in his counsel through which specific cross and affliction he would conform each of his elect to ‘the image of his Son,’” In other words, God knew beforehand what challenges to give us.  To what end?  Because it’s good for us to be like Jesus.  It’s good for us to experience these challenges.  It makes us holier, more focused on our Lord and His call to us.  As I said, this is good for us, God knows what’s best for us.  That’s the first thing, but that leads us to the second thing to know.
 
Second, understand that this doesn’t mean that it will be easy.  I heard a great sermon making that point last week.  It referenced the Israelites in the desert.  The pastor said, just like them, we often think the journey will be easy, that it will be the utopia.  But that’s not what God tells us.  The Utopia will not be until we arrive at the Promised Land.  Which means that things will be hard at times.  There will be cares that will wear on you.  This will be hard.
 
But in the midst of it, what do we do?  O ye of little faith.  Trust Him.  Trust Him because He cares for you.  Cast your worries, your anxieties on Him because He cares for you.  Know that He sees you and knows you.  Know that He will never leave you nor forsake you.  Know that His love for you, for your loved ones, for this world surpasses any love we could know anywhere else.  Know that He is trustworthy and true.  He has shown you this in the death of Christ.  In the promise of His Kingdom come, that Kingdom He brought you into in you baptism.  Trust in Him, then, ye of little faith.  He is faithful and all this will be added to you now, and even more so eternally.  Amen.

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amen.  This morning we meditate on the Gospel Lesson, previously read.
 
As you hear this lesson, what do you hear?  Likely you hear these parts: “‘Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?’… ‘The one who showed him mercy.’… ‘You go, and do likewise.’  ‘Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?’… You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.’ … ‘do this, and you will live.’”  If you noticed I chose all the commands from this passage, I chose what as Lutherans we call the Law.  And we say that the Law is good.  This is God’s Word, this is an eternal Word—heaven and earth will fall away but His Word never will.  This is what God intends for us to do, it is His will.  So do it. 
 
Do that Law, love God with all of your heart, with all your soul, and with will your strength and with all your mind.  Do it.  Love Him entirely.  Love Him with every ounce of your being, with every thought in your brain, with every ounce you can muster.  And your neighbor.  As much as you love yourself, doting on your wants and your desires, do that and more for your neighbor.  As the Samaritan showed mercy on the road, so also show mercy.  Care for those in need.  That is your call, the neighbor as you see him or her around you, care for them.  When you see them hungry, feed them.  When you see them suffering, relieve it.  When you see them downtrodden, pick them up and carry them.  That is your job, those around you—as Jesus says, “by chance.”  You see that’s what this tells you.  This is a lesson about love and about your neighbor being those around you, not just your friends, but those God places on the path of your life.  You are called to care for them.  Do this and you will live.
 
Now, as I say that, some of you might be squirming a little bit.  You might be wondering if Pastor Zickler has gone back down the roots of his childhood and is adopting some salvation by works.  You might be uncomfortable with saying it like I just did.  After all, it might sound like I’m pushing this idea that we have to earn our salvation by these good things.  In fact, you might be thinking, “I don’t have to do this, I’m saved by grace through faith.”  But let me put it this way.
 
In the early church there was a document called the Didache.  Now didache is just the Greek word for teaching.  And that’s what this was.  It was supposedly written the apostles—although that wasn’t well confirmed, which is why it’s not included in Scripture.  But this Didache begins like this: “There are two ways, one of life and one of death; but a great difference between the two ways.  The way of life, then, is this: First, thou shalt love God who made thee; second, thy neighbour as thyself and all things whatsoever thou wouldst should not occur to thee, thou also to another do not do.”  In other words walking in God’s commands are the way of life.  As He has made you anew in baptism.  As He has buried you, buried your sin in the death of Christ’s tomb, He has washed you and made you anew in the life of Christ’s resurrection.  This is that life.  That life shows mercy—and don’t we need mercy in our day!  That life shows forth mercy for our neighbor, and it shows forth love for God, love with the wholeness of heart, soul, mind, and strength.  Do this and you will live.  Walk in this life.  Don’t walk in the way of sin, in the way of death.
 
But as I say this, first of all notice what I haven’t said.  I have been saying, “do this and you will live.”  But I have not said “do this SO THAT you will live.”  That’s the first thing.  You don’t do this so that you will live.  You walk in the way of life that Jesus has raised you to in His resurrection.  You don’t pick yourself up into that life by doing these things.  The second thing is what I always say.  If you watch my devotions, you heard me say it about his passage this week, and I’m sure you’ve heard me say it before.  That phrase, “do this and you will live,” is true.  It’s a promise, a promise spoken by our Lord, and when our Lord speaks He does not lie, so therefore this promise is a promise that holds to eternity.  Do this and you will live.  But what’s the problem?  You don’t do it.  You haven’t done it.  You won’t do it.  You’ll try and you’ll try, or at least you should keep trying.  Like I said this is what God wants for you.  But you won’t do it.  So you don’t do this so that you will live.
 
And yet what do we see from this Lawyer that Jesus interacts with in the lesson?  He wants to do this so that he can live.  Look at what Luke tells us, the man “desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbor?’”  So this man has asked Jesus how one earns eternal life.  He says the Law says to love God and love neighbor, and the man wants to prove that he’s right, that he’s righteous.  He wants to justify himself.  Now the first thing I think is interesting is that the question presumes that this loving God with the entire heart, soul, mind, and strength is easy and done with no trouble.  In his arrogance, there’s not a question of how.  “How can I love God with my heart, soul, mind, and strength?”  But let’s look past that, and deal with what’s here.  This man jumps to justifying himself by asking who is neighbor is.
 
I just said that the first thing that was interesting was the question, but there’s a lot more that’s interesting.  For example, there’s the fact that Jesus tells him this is the wrong question.  Look at how Jesus answers.  He asks who was a neighbor to the beaten man.  He makes the point that the Lawyer needs to quit wondering who is neighbor is, and he needs to be the neighbor.  That’s interesting, and noteworthy.  It’s also interesting all the ways this justification could be directed.
 
What do I mean?  Well, first of all, Luke tells us that this Lawyer is trying to trap Jesus.  He’s putting Jesus, “to the test.”  So he could be trying to justify himself in the argument with Jesus.  He could be trying to prove that intellectually he’s got something on this teacher from Galilee.  He also could be trying to justify himself before God.  He could be trying to prove how good he is by saying, “look there is my neighbor, and now I am faithful and I deserve the eternal life coming to me.”  He could also—sort of on the flip side of that—be justifying how he knows he doesn’t care for everyone.  “Yes, I haven’t cared for this person or that person, but I’m not by brother’s keeper.”  These are all interesting.  And in fact, I don’t think they’re mutually exclusive.  I think they all go hand in hand.
 
And in that, then, we should learn from him.  We should learn from Jesus’ response to him.  We should learn that all the ways we try to use the law, the commands, to prove how right we are will fall short.  We should see what Jesus is doing.  He’s doing what He always does.  Whenever someone asks Him, “What must I do?”  Then He raises the bar.
 
You see, while we should do God’s will according to His commands, not so that we would live, but because they are good, we can’t forget what else this Law is.  It’s not just instruction, but it’s a diagnostic tool.  In fact, it’s first and foremost a diagnostic tool.  This command to do this comes to you, and above all it, it strikes you and says, “look you’re supposed to be doing this.  Look you’re supposed to be loving God with 100% of your heart, with 100% of your soul, with 100% of your mind, and with 100% your strength.  100%.  And you’re to be loving your neighbor as yourself, 100%.  Perfectly.  You’re not.”  It comes to you and it tears the bandages off of you, the bandages that have made you think that you’re not as bad as it tells you.  And the Law does this not only in those commands.  But it also does it in the reality around us.  The Law says, “don’t only look at ways you’re falling short, look at the world, look at coronaviruses and looting and political messes, look at all of it.  Look at it and see that you need to repent.  You’re not doing it right so you dwell in the way of death.  And you can see it because you see death is coming for you.  You don’t know when, you don’t know how.  But it will come for you”
 
I liken it to the phone call I got when I was on vacation a couple of years ago.  My dad had been taken to the hospital for pain, and the doctors did the diagnostic scan.  They came to him and told him, “there is cancer, and it’s metastasized.”  This was a death sentence.  And the Law comes as that same diagnostic, we have a death sentence by sin.
 
Now, as I’m saying this, you might be saying, “Wow Pastor, this is really beating us up!”  I’m not trying to.  I’m only trying to show you the reality of your sin and the commands.  But this isn’t just to be mean.  No.  It’s so that you can relate not to the Lawyer in the story, nor the Levite or priest in the parable.  No, it’s so you can relate to the man beaten and left half-dead.  Why?  Because then you can see the beauty of this story.  It’s not just a parable telling you what to do.  No, it’s something so much greater.  It’s the story of Jesus.  You have been beaten down by sin, by death, by suffering, by the devil Himself.  And yet Jesus is your Good Samaritan.  He is the One who, when you see your estate, He picks you up and puts you on His animal.  He bears your load, bears the load of your sin on the cross, suffering death that you would have life in His resurrection.  He walks the path, carrying you when you are suffering.  He carries you to the inn of His church, where He can wash your wounded body and soul with the oil of the waters of baptism, the salve of His mercy to you.  He tends to you and feeds you His body, with the wine of His blood bringing you the remedy that will be your medicine of immortality.
 
You see it sounds like I am saying all of these hard things to hear, but I am merely bringing you the diagnosis, so that you would know the treatment.  Doctors sometimes have to play the bad guys as they bear bad news, but the joy we have is that our physician has the eternal vaccine for our virus.  You see as worried as we are about viruses and vaccines right now, the real virus is sin, and the real antibodies are in the blood of Christ.
 
So Christians, as you hear this Law, this command in this passage, do it, know that it is right and good for you to do what God commands.  Do it not so that you would live, but do it and live.  Live in the life of your Good Samaritan Jesus.  Do it because He has been so merciful to you that you could never hope to repay Him.  Do it because He has picked up your half-dead body from the road of sin, and has carried you to the hospital of His Church with His Word and Sacraments to treat your illness—because that is what the Church is: a hospital for the sick.  But our Great Physician, our Good Samaritan is the most merciful and gracious Physician there is.  Amen.