https://assets-cdn2.dropwave.io/086174f0-efbe-400f-a3e9-b91549a26ab7/media/Trinity 19 AD 2026.mp3

https://app.dropwave.io/show/our-savior-lynchburg/trinity-19-ad-2026

++ JESU JUVA ++

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

Today’s Epistle starts in the middle of a sentence. This cutting of the text can lead us to a bad conclusion about what St. Paul is saying. If we look at it the way it’s printed in our bulletin, it can sound like Paul is just giving a list of commands: put off the old man; be renewed in your mind; put on the new man — as though this putting off and renewing and putting on are actions that you must do. But when we look at the context, we can see it as part of a larger argument St. Paul is making. Instead of these being imperatives or commands, they are first a description of who you are in Christ, by virtue of your Baptism into Him.

Permit me some freedom in the translation to make the point. This is how you were taught the truth in Christ Jesus: that you put off the old man… that you are being renewed… and that you put on the new man. This is what you have been taught about what has already happened to you in Holy Baptism. You were taught that you have put off the old man; that you are renewed in the spirit of your mind; that you have put on the new man. This changes the picture entirely. And if we want to understand this rightly, then we need to begin with our need for new clothing.

[Original righteousness and the fall]

When God made man, He made him in His own image. Man reflected God’s holiness and righteousness; His goodness and patience; His love and mercy. Man had no evil thought, no sinful lust, no disordered desire. Work was a pleasure, and he had no pain. He had no anxiety or worry, but only boundless joy. Man’s conscience was at rest and in peace.

And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed (Genesis 2:25). This is the image of man in paradise before the fall. They weren’t ashamed to be naked because they had something better than clothing. They had original righteousness — the image of God.

But instead of living by every word that comes from the mouth of God, Adam and his wife chose to live by another word. They listened instead to the voice of the serpent. They ate of the tree of which God had commanded Adam, you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die (Genesis 2:17). Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves coverings (Genesis 3:7).

The serpent was partially right. Their eyes were opened. They gained the knowledge of evil — but by experiencing it in their own bodies. Now they see that they are naked. Now they feel shame. Sin had stripped away the original righteousness that God had given them. No longer covered with that righteousness, they see themselves naked — bare, uncovered, ashamed.

In the Fall, Adam and his wife lost the fear and trust of God, and they gained the desire to sin. So now when they behold their nakedness, they are ashamed. They are disgusted by what they see. We are born without the fear of God, without trust in God, and with the desire to sin. This is the inheritance of all who are born in the usual way.

[Covering one’s own shame]

So they do what any person who is ashamed tries to do — they seek to cover their shame by themselves. They sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths. But fig leaves make flimsy clothing, and they dry out quickly. They also irritate skin. And when God showed up, it became clear that fig-leaf underwear couldn’t cover their shame. Shame-covering and self-justification aren’t things they could do.

We can look back on their sad attempt and see why it was foolish, but there’s lots of ways we do the same thing today. We make excuses and try to shift the blame to our neighbors or claim that we are merely helpless victims of circumstance. It’s not my fault! You made me angry. Everyone does it.

We attack the one who accuses us. We use the fact that anyone who seeks to correct us also has his own sins — as though resenting those who speak God’s Word takes away its authority. We rename sin — calling it a mistake or even calling evil ‘good.’ We try to establish our own righteousness (Romans 10:3) by comparing ourselves to our neighbors or by an abundance of good works.

Or we hide. We hide from church, from the pastor, from our fellow believers. Like our first parents, we try to hide from God. And even if it doesn’t work, we try anyway. We think it’s good for man to be alone (c.f. Genesis 2:18). We think that being alone with our shame will save us from having to acknowledge it. And if we don’t acknowledge it, then we won’t have to address it. Shame thrives by being hidden.

Or we distract ourselves from our shame. Entertainment or doomscrolling. Sometimes it’s just a matter of keeping ourselves busy, so that we don’t have the time or the mental bandwidth to examine ourselves. If I’m constantly focused on the next thing on my to do list, I never have to stop and reflect on my failures.

Or we seek to numb the shame by engaging in other sins: drunkenness or pornography or other addictions that bring us harm. Trying to find relief by numbing ourselves to the truth. All these are ways of not confronting our shame. They are different ways that we refuse to let the law do its work on us.

But there’s another way we try to deal with shame, too. This second way begins by acknowledging our sin and shame. We admit that it was wrong and bad. But then we say that we can pay for our sins. That we don’t need Jesus or the Gospel. Here’s what that might look like: self-punishment. Some try to pay for their sin with their own misery. This is often what’s going on when someone says, “I can’t forgive myself.” It’s endless self-reproach or a kind of self-imposed penance. Self-punishment has the appearance of humility. If I feel bad enough, long enough, perhaps it will count. This way of thinking says that Christ’s blood couldn’t cover my sin — but my suffering might.