Historic First Lutheran Church of Pasadena

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

You and I have both come across things in life that we can’t understand, things that don’t seem to make sense, things that frustrate us as we try to figure them out.

The opening words of our First Reading today comfort us in our frustration: “It is the glory of God to conceal a matter. To search out a matter is the glory of kings” [Proverbs 25:2]. God gets glory precisely because man cannot understand His universe or the way He rules it. Kings get glory – including ordinary people like you and me – if they can uncover the truth and administer justice. That pithy proverb – one that I must admit I have never before heard and certainly have never before preached on – sure makes a whole lot of sense when you look at the way this world operates. Before I let you know how this proverb applies to today’s “Great Hymn of the Faith,” I have a story to tell, a story in honor of all the teachers and students already back in school or preparing to return to school, a story that conveys to us that sometimes there are things that just don’t make sense, that things sometimes just frustrate us.

One day – back in the cold Midwest on a winter day – a kindergarten teacher observed one of her little ones struggling to squeeze into a pair of cowboy boots before heading home for the day. She asked if she could help him, but even with her pulling the boots up and him pushing his feet down, the boots didn’t want to go on. Finally, when the second boot was on, the teacher, having worked up quite a sweat, almost cried when the little boy said, “Teacher, they’re on the wrong feet.” She looked down and, sure enough, they were. It was no easier pulling the boots off than it was putting them on, but she managed to keep her cool as, together, they worked to get the boots on the correct feet. It was only then the little boy announced they weren’t his boots. The teacher bit her tongue instead of screaming “Why didn’t you say so?” like she wanted to. Once again, she struggled to help him out of the ill-fitting boots. No sooner had the boots left his feet than he said, “They’re my brother’s boots. My Mom made me wear them today. Stifling a scream, she mustered up the grace and courage to wrestle the boots back onto his feet once again. Thinking her task was don and helping him into his coat, she then asked, “Now, where are your mittens?” To which he replied, “I stuffed them in the toes of my boots.”

That one you can’t figure out. You often can’t figure kids out. But, let’s face it, there’s lots in this world you can’t figure out or explain, isn’t there? That’s why I love the title of today’s “Great Hymn of the Faith:” “O Master, Let Me Walk with Thee.”

The title starts with those two words, “O Master.” That right away defines the proper relationship between us and God. We are not on the same level. No matter how much of popular Christianity today likes to get us to think of our God as our “BFF,” our best friend forever, even our brother, the truth of the matter is that He is the Master and we are not. He knows all things and we don’t. He is in control of all things and we are not. God always works in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. “It is the glory of God to conceal a matter. To search out a matter is the glory of kings.”

The third, fourth and fifth words of the title are equally important: “Let Me Walk.” This request is something that is out of the ordinary. It’s not something just to be taken for granted. If you or I wake up in our own home and are hungry, we simply go rummaging through the cabinets or refrigerator until we find something to satisfy our hunger. When we are visitors in someone else’s home, especially someone who is not an immediate family member, good manners dictate that we ask first. So it is with us and God. This is my Father’s world. It is not my world to simply take and use in an unauthorized fashion as I see fit. No, we must approach our God with this simple, polite request: “O Master, Let Me Walk.”

The last two words of today’s title are the toughest: “O Master, Let Me Walk with Thee.” Even when we have a correct perspective of Who God is and who we are in relation to Him, even when we’ve taken the time to properly ask, we still don’t have the knowledge, the insight or the strength to just forge out on our own. No, we ask our Master to walk with Him, to allow Him the opportunity to mold us and shape us into His image, to allow Him in His own way, in His own time, by His own power, to reveal to us His glory.

That’s the only way we can truly carry out the directions issued us throughout the rest of our Scripture Readings today – to have a throne established forever [Prov. 25:5], to not automatically exalt ourselves in the presence of others [Prov. 25:6-7; Luke 14:8-11], to not betray the confidences of others [Prov. 25:9], to protect our own reputation [Prov. 25:10], to keep on loving others as brothers and sisters [Heb. 13:7], to entertain strangers [Heb. 13:2], to remember those less fortunate than ourselves [Heb. 13:3], to honor marriage and keep our lives free from the love of money and be content with what we have [Heb. 13:4-5], to say with all confidence, “The Lord is my Helper; I will not be afraid” [Heb. 13:6], to remember our leaders and imitate their faith [Heb. 13:7, 17], to always remember that Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today and forever [Heb. 13:8].

Those are all tall orders to follow as we walk alone in this world, but, as we walk with our Master, we find a contentment that acknowledges the truth, “It is the glory of God to conceal a matter. To search out a matter is the glory of kings.”

The greatest matter that was ever concealed by our God is His wonderful promise to send a Savior [Genesis 3:15]. Adam and Eve thought they had it figured out, even after their fall into sin. They thought their firstborn would be their Savior, that God would not be long in keeping His promise, but that was not to be. History unrolled itself through the years. The people of God thought that a human king sitting on an earthly throne would be their Savior, so, conceding Himself to the whims of His people, God sent Saul and David and Solomon and a whole list of kings after them – all good men in their own ways, but all just as sinful and all just as much not the Savior as was Cain, firstborn of Eve. No, God concealed His plan and it wasn’t until that silent night, that holy night that God revealed His glory as angels sang and a star guided to the place where Emmanuel was born – God with us. It was that God-Man, Jesus Christ, Whom the eyes of the world watched carefully [Luke 14:1], knowing that in Him was somehow the plan of God at work even though this Savior didn’t ride into town on a great white warhorse of victory, but Who would rather be led outside the city [Heb. 13:9-16], carrying His own Cross, shedding His own Blood to cover over our multitude of sins, to erase every time we’ve walked through this world as if we were its master, every time we’ve taken liberties that didn’t belong to us, every time we walked alone.

Like that teacher, there is much that frustrates us in this world, much that betrays explanation, much, even though we don’t like to admit it, that we just simply can’t understand. And, in the end, when we walk with our Master, that’s OK. It’s OK because all we really need to know is that it was Jesus Christ Himself Who was that Son Who fell into the well of sin and death [Luke 14:5]. It was that Son, Jesus Christ, Whom our Father healed on that Sunday morning [Luke 14:3], raising Him from death to life for you and for me.

Trust me, that’s not something we could dream up. That is the glory of God. That is knowledge that comes our way only when we say, “O Master, Let Me Walk with Thee.”

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

Pastor Christopher Schaar
Historic First Lutheran Church of Pasadena