Tag Archives: matthew 28:19

Satan is a Toothless Punk

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Last week’s eNews prompted an interesting response from one of its readers. The part that stirred discussion was my apparent disregard for Satan’s significance. Referring to the Lord’s words in Luke 22:53, I insisted that Jesus was not referring to Satan by the phrase “power of darkness.” I claimed sin was the power Jesus was talking about, implying I’m not one to give Satan credit as an all-consuming “power.” I did say that Satan is a big deal. Of course, if he weren’t, the Lord wouldn’t have needed to face off with him in all the ways He did. That certainly means the Devil is not to be trifled with. Still, he’ll forever be an agent of sin and nothing more. And so, when the Lord says to Judas, “This is your hour,” He’s speaking to Judas directly and engaging with the one actively inspiring his deeds—Satan. However, when the Lord adds, “and the power of darkness,” He’s referring to sin’s consuming reign in this world. I might consider adding death to the equation. Saint Paul certainly noted its relationship to sin. He wrote that sin once had dominion over us. Within this dominion, he explained that “just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned” (Romans 5:12).

Looking at what I just wrote, I think I’ll add it to this morning’s sermon manuscript. It certainly fits. One of my goals is to paint a portrait of sin’s deepest significance for the listeners.

Getting back to my original thought, I suppose if I’m wrong about this detail concerning Satan, I’m sure others will be willing to say so. Either way, we’ll find out on that great and glorious day. In the meantime, I won’t go looking for reasons (even biblical ones) to stroke Satan’s ego. He’s been defanged. I have nothing to fear from him, the toothless punk that he is.

Regardless of the person, if someone writes or says something worth remembering, I’ll file the truth of the words away. I do this mentally and physically. That said, I have various quotations printed and taped to the bookshelves in my office. I’ve had one for over a decade from Father Gabriel Amorth. He was the Roman Catholic Church’s chief exorcist for many years. It seems he’s somewhat popular, having become the subject of a recent film starring Russel Crowe. I appreciated something he said during a 2001 interview with an Italian news magazine. The interviewer asked Amorth, “Are you afraid of the Devil.” His response was as it should be:

“Afraid of that beast? He’s the one who should be afraid of me. I work in the name of the Lord. He is only an ape of God.”

As I acknowledged, Satan is a big deal. He’s clever. He’s tenacious. He’s strong. Even Jesus admitted this. In Luke 10, the Lord told His listeners, “When a strong man, fully armed, guards his own palace, his goods are safe” (v. 21). The term “strong man” was a familiar reference to Satan, and so, Jesus’ listeners knew who he was talking about. Still, the Lord concluded the acknowledgment of Satan’s strength as quickly as He began it, turning His listeners’ attention toward Himself, “But when one stronger than he attacks him and overcomes him, he takes away his armor in which he trusted and divides his spoil” (v. 22).

Yes, the Devil is strong. But Jesus is stronger.

In the scheme of things, the Lord spoke the words in Luke 10 well before venturing toward His death on the cross. Doing so, He assured us that the Devil was about to be disarmed and stripped of everything. Later in Luke 22, the time finally arrived for head-to-head combat. The strong man led a contingent to meet the Stronger Man praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. Strangely, the Stronger Man said to the strong man, “This is your hour” (v. 53). In other words, Jesus submitted at that moment and, as such, invited the Devil to do his level best to lay the Lord low. If you keep reading, you’ll see that the Devil embraced the challenge, ultimately delivering measures of dreadfulness we’ll never fully know.

But the strong man’s fun ended when the Stronger Man cried out, “It is finished” (John 19:30). Of course, the Lord’s cry was declarative. He was announcing that the price for our redemption had been fully paid. With a sense for Easter, His words can be heard as, “Alright, that’s enough. It’s my turn, now.” Because it was. By His death, the Stronger Man endured in our place against the strong man’s fury. In that same moment, the unholy trinity of sin, death, and Satan was ultimately taken to the mat and pinned. The Stronger Man walked away at the end of the three-day count, leaving the strong man defeated.

As believers, the Stronger Man is with us (Matthew 28:20). He claimed us as His own in our baptism (Matthew 28:19, Romans 6:3-8, Galatians 3:27, Revelation 7:14-17). We are not apart from Him. We are in Him, and He is in us (John 14:19-20), and greater is the One we bear (1 John 4:4). Because of this, the Devil has every reason to fear God’s people and not the other way around. We confessed as much at Lent’s beginning when we prayed the Litany here at Our Savior in Hartland last Sunday. At one moment along the way, we boldly petitioned that God would continue “to beat down Satan under our feet.”

By the power of the Holy Spirit for faith, that’s precisely what Christian feet can do.

Scan the Church’s hymnody. You’re sure to discover this kind of Christian confidence. You’ll likely experience just how penetrating this reality has been for Christians throughout history. Luther’s great hymn, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” is a perfect example. Stanza three offers with astounding conviction:

Though devils all the world should fill,
All eager to devour us,
We tremble not, we fear no ill.
They shall not overpower us.
This world’s prince may still
Scowl fierce as he will,
He can harm us none.
He’s judged; the deed is done;
One little word can fell him.

Another is Erdmann Neumeister’s “God’s Own Child I Gladly Say It.” A middle stanza of this exceptional hymn demonstrates the same certainty, proving itself emboldened enough to impose demands on Satan:

Satan hear this proclamation:
I am baptized into Christ!
Drop your ugly accusation,
I am not so soon enticed.
Now that to the font I’ve traveled,
All your might has come unraveled,
And, against your tyranny,
God, my Lord, unites with me!

Perhaps another—Jacob Fabricius’ “O Little Flock, Fear Not the Foe”—spends a stanza mocking the Devil and his crew, calling their might “a joke, a mere façade!” Indeed, for those grafted to Christ (John 15:5), Satan is a joke, the kind that prompts regular laughter throughout heaven’s gloriously cavernous halls.

I don’t necessarily want to belabor the point. Suffice it to say that while I’ll admit the Devil is trouble, I do not fear him. By God’s gracious care, I can live with no small measure of certainty that he should fear me. And why? It’s not because of who I might claim to be of myself. It’s because of who claimed me and now stands between me and the strong man: The Stronger Man! And so, just as Luther so famously said, if the Devil would pull me down, he would first need to overcome the One who is my Redeemer and Defender. Christ is mine, and I am Christ’s. Period. I’m happy to let the Devil put that in his pipe and smoke it while I move on to more important things.

New Year’s Eve 2022

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I wanted to take a quick moment to invite you to the New Year’s Eve Divine Service occurring here at Our Savior in Hartland at 4:30 pm. Although a strange time of day for a worship service, its selection is purposeful, allowing a brief intermission in your day before venturing out to whatever New Year’s Eve plans you may have. Although, whatever those plans might be, don’t forget about the New Year’s Day Divine Service tomorrow (Sunday) at 9:30 am.

Gathering in the Lord’s house on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day is good. Actually, the Church doesn’t necessarily refer to the gatherings using the titles of New Year’s Eve or Day. January 1 has long been celebrated as the “Feast of the Circumcision of Christ” because, according to the Law, a newborn male was required to be circumcised on the eighth day. For Jesus, according to our current Gregorian calendar, that would be January 1. Naturally, the night before was referred to as the “Eve of the Feast of the Circumcision of Christ.” A little further into history, the titles changed a bit. On many church calendars, the dates are referred to as the “Circumcision and Name of Jesus.” This is due to what’s written about the event in Luke 2:21, which reads: “And at the end of eight days, when he was circumcised, he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.”

No matter what you call the event, again, it’s good to be in the Lord’s house on New Year’s Eve. Tonight, we understand ourselves as pitched against a brand new year. Christians are inclined to go into it having first visited with Christ.

But why?

Because anything could happen. All things considered, we already know we couldn’t have made it through the previous year without Him, and we know far too well that we won’t survive the coming year apart from Him. He must be our point of origin and destination in all things all year long, all at the same time.

The Lord’s circumcision is a hint to this. His name is, too.

Christ, the perfect Son of God, could never be found accused by God’s Holy Law. And yet, as we are beneath it, He shows His willing submission to it—to bear its heavy burden perfectly—when He sheds His first few drops of blood through circumcision. Moreover, the announcement of His name—a name that literally means “the Lord saves”—testifies to who He is and what His trajectory will be relative to the Law. Indeed, He will keep it perfectly. Moreover, He will die as the perfect sacrifice measured against it. He’ll do this for us, not for Himself. He will be our substitute. And when He accomplishes it, He will give the merits of the victory to us.

Evelyn and I listen to music every day to and from school. One of the bands we’ve been singing along with lately has a particular lyric that reminds me a little bit of what New Year’s Eve holds in its back pocket. It’s a short lyric, but it’s memorable: “We walk the plank on a sinking ship.”

This is true.

The world is sinking. If you feel differently, then you’re not paying attention. Moreover, the crew—the Devil, the world, and the sinful flesh—has a sword in the back of humanity, pressing it to the edge of the ship’s plank.

In a sense, when we celebrate the “Circumcision and Name of Jesus,” Christians realize two things. Firstly, we’re reminded that Christ shed His blood so that the plank’s end would not be the final word for any of us. Regardless of how the crew might accuse us, we are innocent. Christ saw to that. We can go into every new year, walking any of life’s planks along the way, with this promise in our pocket.

Secondly, we’re reminded of just what it means to do these things relative to the Lord’s name. For anyone attuned to the biblical promises associated with God’s name, it’s likely baptism will be one of the first things that comes to mind. It certainly did for Saint Peter. In Acts 2:38, Peter announces the essentiality of being baptized into the name of Jesus, which is to be baptized according to the mandate Jesus prescribed in Matthew 28:19—that is “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Among the many glorious benefits, part of the point here is that God puts His name on you in the waters of Holy Baptism, and God has long promised that He will dwell where He puts His name.

Walking the plank on a sinking ship isn’t so bad when I know these things. For one, the plunge at the end of the plank becomes an opportunity to remember no matter the waters I’m entering, I’ve already been through the best waters there are. I’m bearing God’s name now. He loves me. He gave me everything that belongs to Christ. He said as much. He said that all who’ve been baptized into Christ have been baptized into His death and resurrection (Romans 6:3-4). And if this is true, then, what comes at the end of any plank is of no concern. God said this, too. Death holds no mastery over me because it holds no mastery over Christ, the one who has clothed me with His righteousness (Galatians 3:27).

Remembering and celebrating these things is an excellent way to begin a new year. I encourage you to begin yours this way. Join other Christians who gather to receive this Gospel. The oncoming year promises a regular need for it. Christ promises to be there to give it.

I suppose I should conclude that if this message finds its way to a Christian whose church does not offer New Year’s Eve or Day services, then may I humbly urge you to go and find one that does? If anything, my guess is you’ll sense a level of spiritual awareness communicated by those services, a sense that proves their relevance for this troubled world. That alone makes it well worth your while.