“Cross Bones- The Ten Commandments” Matt. 5.17–20 June ’26

 

 

1.                Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Heavenly Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, who by grace grants us wisdom to receive the strength and structure of the Ten Commandments as foundational to our Christian faith. Our message from God’s Word today, as we begin our Summer Catechism Sermon Series, “Perspectives on the Cross” is taken from Matthew 5:17-20. It’s entitled, “Cross Bones-The Ten Commandments,” dear brothers and sisters in Christ.

2.                The Six Chief Parts of the Christian Faith are well known among us Lutherans. The sainted Martin Luther in the Small Catechism identified the Ten Commandments, the Apostles’ Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, Baptism, the Office of the Keys, and the Lord’s Supper as the six teachings of Scripture that all of us ought to know well. For the next seven weeks we’ll seek to provide a fresh look at the Small Catechism, plus one more sermon that shows further how they fit into the daily walk of the Christian life. What binds them all together is that they all grow from what Jesus did for us on the cross.

3.                The first of the Six Chief Parts is the Ten Commandments. In Exodus 20 and Deuteronomy 5, we find recorded the 10 Commandments that the Lord delivered to Moses to be presented and proclaimed to the children of Israel. These were not mere suggestions but rather a list of actions to life stations, issues, and activities that would be pleasing to God our Father. Consider this comparison: Viewed through the cross of Christ, the ten commandments are like the skeletal structure of the Christian faith: cross bones.

4.                There are three main types of skeletal structures in living things: hydrostatic skeletons, which use fluid-filled compartments for support (such as in earthworms); exoskeletons, which are hard outer coverings that protect the body (such as in crabs and insects); and endoskeletons, which are internal bones that support the body, protect organs, and enable movement. Humans have an endoskeleton.

5.                Today we consider how the Ten Commandments may be viewed through the cross as an endoskeleton that provides the foundational structure for Christian faith and life. These Commandments are the structure—the “cross bones,” upon which we followers of the Lord Jesus Christ, are empowered to live, move, and have our being. Our activities are discerned to be in keeping with the Father’s will if they align with the skeleton, the Ten Commandments. Cross bones, as in a skull and crossbones, we know used to strike terror in the hearts of sailors. God’s Law, the Ten Commandments, can—and should—strike terror in hearts as well, because it also threatens death. But seen in our comparison as the skeletal structure of the Christian faith, the Commandments also have a purpose we can appreciate deeply. “What does this mean?” the catechism asks.

6.                By studying the Ten Commandments, we come to understand that without the structure they give us, we are like blobs without a definite shape, form, or guiding principle to direct our behavior. That is what sin does in our lives. It destroys the structure and form of our discipleship, and after a while, our behavior is totally indistinguishable from the actions of the “nations” and people around us. We are to be salt and light, with a definite form so that we provide flavor and light to the world around us. The Ten Commandments supply our form and substance.

7.                A simple example is when we are cut off in traffic. Without some structure, some cross bones to help determine our response, we are as likely to curse, swear, and seek retribution as we are to pray, praise, and give thanks that the offending driver didn’t cause a collision. When our spouse or a friend offends us, if we have no form or structure to guide our response, we may lash out in retribution as opposed to seeking forgiveness if we were wrong or offering forgiveness when we are offended. Without some skeletal structure, we are intolerable when we believe someone has more than we do and has come to this increase using some dishonest means. We look at what they have and think, “That should be me in that house”; “We should have that swimming pool.” We may think they have more members in their church than we do and we deserve those members because our doctrine is so much better. This is all sin, and without some structure, some cross bones holding us, we don’t feel the pain when things break and we need the cast of grace to hold our structure in place while the healing occurs.

8.                When we view the Ten Commandments through the cross, we understand how necessary the suffering and death of Jesus was to save us from our sins, faults, and failures. We can’t perfectly keep the Ten Commandments, and forgiveness is essential to set us free to serve even in the midst of our failures. There are those who say that the Law, the Commandments, are in the Old Testament and that they really do not relate to humankind in this new, enlightened era in which everyone gets to do whatever is right for themselves. Jesus reminds us that the Commandments continue to be the heart of the Father for our lives, as he encouraged believers in Matthew 5: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished. Therefore whoever relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Mt 5:17–20)

9.                Our need for this structure is so extreme that Jesus must come to fulfill that which we lost the capacity to do in the Garden as a result of the sin of our first parents. The Law, the Commandments, the structure is not going away. God’s heart and mind are not changing and shifting. He wants people to be consecrated, holy, and set aside for his purposes. So the Father sends us Jesus whose righteousness will surpass that of the scribes and Pharisees, and through his suffering, death, and resurrection, we have access to that righteousness and restoration of the kingdom of heaven.

10.             We know the Ten Commandments with their “Thou shalt nots,” and we understand them to be the basis for our life and behavior that is pleasing to our Father. We know that in ourselves it is impossible to perform these Commandments, and we need someone to come and save us from our failure to keep them, which is sin and deserves eternal punishment in hell for breaking them. The One who comes to rescue us must be perfect in keeping the Law—must never, miss the mark or transgress the Father’s boundaries, the skeletal structure the Commandments set.

11.             We need someone to come who is able to step in on our behalf and without fault or failure do for us that which we can’t do for ourselves. Jesus comes for this purpose. He doesn’t come to condemn us for our failure but to supply what we lack—holiness and total devotion to the Father in all his Commandments and expectations. That means that Jesus must take our failure, our sin, upon himself and boldly go up the way of sorrows to the cross of Calvary. He must suffer, bleed, and die to save us from sin, hell, and death. But even in death, his cross bones could not be broken (Jn 19:36). Neither could they stay in the grave and see corruption. Those bones must live again, be resurrected and restored, so that by faith we receive his life and resurrection, which delivers the grace of salvation and resets our broken, sinful life, restoring our relationship with the Father.

12.             It’s at this point that another classic catechism question posed by Dr. Luther helps bring into focus the impact of these Commandments on everyday life, which is “How is this done?” The answer is best summed up in the command found throughout Deuteronomy: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets” (Mt 22:37–40).

13.             The Ten Commandments are more than a list of “Thou shalt nots.” Through Christ’s grace, they become the framework for a life of faith, guiding us to love God and serve our neighbors. As Christians, we are called to be “little Christs,” reflecting God’s mercy and living according to His will. The Commandments are the foundational “cross bones” that support the Christian life, while Jesus’ death and resurrection provide forgiveness for our failures and strength to rise again and continue serving Him. Through faith in Christ, our lives become a witness to God’s grace, forgiveness, and love in the world. Amen. Now the peace of God that passes all understanding, guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, until life everlasting. Amen.

 

“Mindful of Tiny, Little Us” Psalm 8 Holy TrinityA May ‘26

 

1.                Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God, our heavenly Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The message from God’s Word as we celebrate Holy Trinity Sunday is taken from Psalm 8 and it’s entitled, “Mindful of Tiny, Little Us,” dear brothers and sisters in Christ.

2.                In Dr. Seuss’s beloved story Horton Hears a Who, the tiny residents of Whoville live in a universe no bigger than a speck of dust, carried around on a clover by a patient elephant named Horton. Most of the Whos go about their days unaware of their true size. It takes a crisis, and a great deal of noise, before they finally wake up to the truth: they are tiny, they need Horton, and Horton has been caring for them all along. That humbling realization, far from crushing them, turns everything around for the better. When we, too, wake up to the truth — that God is God and we are not, that he is the Creator and we are his creatures — it goes better with our souls. And suddenly, it becomes the most astonishing news in the universe: the almighty Lord of heaven and earth is mindful of tiny, little us.

3.                The psalmist David marveled at this. Standing under the open sky, gazing at the work of God’s fingers (Ps. 8:3) — he broke into a question that is really a hymn of praise: “What is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?” (Ps. 8:4). The Hebrew word translated “mindful” means to think about, to call to mind as a present, passionate concern. Like a mother who wakes in the night, not because her baby cried, but simply because her mind is full of her child. That is how God thinks of you.

4.                But we must be honest: we don’t always find this comforting. When we examine ourselves according to God’s Law, we have long lists of things of which we are ashamed (1 John 1:8). We wonder: Why is God thinking about me? Is it to settle a score? We look at the troubles of life — the plans that fell apart, the prayers that seemed to go unanswered, the suffering that came anyway — and we begin to suspect that God’s attentiveness is not warm but accusing. We imagine him less as a loving Father and more as a cosmic auditor, reviewing the ledger, noting every deficit.

5.                Or maybe the temptation runs the other direction. We think, of course God is thinking about me — I’ve earned it. We are good neighbors, faithful spouses, generous givers. We say our prayers and show up on Sunday. God is pleased with me, and his attentiveness is our reward. We don’t say this out loud, but self-righteousness is a very quiet sin. It betrays itself when things go wrong and we grow angry at God, as if he has broken a contract.

6.                Both errors share the same root: we place ourselves at the center. We stare inward for our ultimate meaning, for our worth — using the mirror of our own hearts as the final authority. But as Martin Luther knew well, the sinful self is curved in upon itself. The heart turned in on itself sees everything — including God — through a distorted lens. We become our own judges, our own gods, making the same fatal error as Adam and Eve in the garden, and as the devil, our ancient enemy himself.

7.                But, here is the wonder the psalmist sings: the God who set his glory above the heavens (Ps. 8:1) — the God before whom even angels veil their faces — has been thinking about you. Not occasionally or grudgingly. But, tenderly, with the focused care of an artist over his finest work. Notice how David describes creation: not as a cosmic explosion, not as the detached decree of a remote deity, but as intimate craftsmanship — the work of your fingers (Ps. 8:3). The God who flung the stars into place did it with the kind of care a father gives to carving a gift for his child. The logic of the psalm is breathtaking: if this God gives such lavish attention to the moon and the stars, how much more does he give to you, the crown of his creation, the one he made in his own image (Gen. 1:26–27)?

8.                And if creation already reveals this love, the incarnation shouts it from every rooftop. God didn’t merely think about mankind from a safe distance. He became one of us. St. Paul says that Jesus the Son of God,“being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing”* (Phil. 2:6–7). He who made the stars with his fingers took on fingers of his own — infant fingers, clutching in a manger, stretched open on a cross. And this is why Psalm 8 found its fullest meaning not in David, but in the Son of David, Jesus Christ.

9.                When the author of Hebrews quotes our psalm — “What is man that you are mindful of him?” — he applies it to Jesus (Heb. 2:6–9). Jesus is the true Son of Man who was made, for a little while, lower than the angels. He entered fully into our weakness, our death. He bore our shame so completely that from the cross he cried out with the words of another psalm, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Ps. 22:1; Matt. 27:46). The Father’s attention didn’t waver then — but for one dark hour, the weight of all human sin broke the fellowship between them, so that it might be restored forever. The bone God had to pick with sinful humanity, Christ settled with his own bones on the cross — he who is “bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh” (cf. Gen. 2:23).

10.             Here is where the gospel becomes very personal. God thinks about you because you are in Christ. Through Holy Baptism, you’ve been clothed with Christ (Gal. 3:27), joined to his death and resurrection (Rom. 6:3–5), inscribed with his holy name. When the Father looks at you, he sees his beloved Son. The psalmist’s words — “You have crowned him with glory and honor” (Ps. 8:5) — are words God now speaks over you, because you are hidden in Christ who is your life (Col. 3:3–4).

11.             Every time you remember your Baptism, the finger of God — the same finger that carved the stars — traces his name on your heart again. Every word of absolution that I speak as your Pastor is God himself declaring that you are forgiven, that you are not forgotten, that you are always on God’s mind. Every time you come to the Lord’s Table, you receive the very body and blood of the Son of Man — “Do this in remembrance of me” — which is to say: Remember that God has not forgotten you. He is here. He is present.

12.             You are not a Whoville resident too small to matter. You are a child of God, bought at a great cost, crowned in Christ with glory and honor. The Holy Trinity — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — went through the whole cost of creation, incarnation, atonement, and resurrection for you. That is how much you matter. That is what God thinks of you.

13.             There is one more turn in the psalm, and we dare not miss it. God, who is entirely self-sufficient and self-existent, directs his attention outward — to creation, to mankind, to you — not for his sake, but for yours. And as he thinks of you, he turns you outward too. “Out of the mouth of babes and infants, you have established strength” (Ps. 8:2). Jesus quotes this very verse when the children cry out his praises in the temple and the chief priests object (Matt. 21:15–16). The gospel goes out through small, seemingly powerless vessels — like you. Like the Virgin Mary, who carried the Son of God and went to share the good news with her cousin Elizabeth. Like those first disciples, standing on a mountain in Galilee, commissioned in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit to go and make disciples of all nations (Matt. 28:19).

14.             God has turned your eyes outward — away from the mirror of self, toward the faces of your neighbors, your children, the stranger, the suffering one down the street. You were made for this. You are Christ’s Body in this world, and as he was sent, so you are sent (John 20:21). The same God who can’t stop thinking about you calls you to think about others — to carry the good news that the great and majestic God of the universe is obsessed with them, too. “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” (Ps. 8:1, 9). He made the stars with his fingers. He made you with his heart. And he has been thinking about you — in love, in Christ, forever. Amen. Now the peace of God that passes all understanding, guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, until life everlasting. Amen.