The Lutheran Hour

  • "Your Destiny"

    #70-22
    Presented on The Lutheran Hour on February 9, 2003
    Speaker: Rev. Ken Klaus
    Copyright 2025 Lutheran Hour Ministries

  • No Sermon MP3 No bonus material MP3

  • Text: Mark 1:38-39

  • Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed! Those words of resurrection victory tell us God has a new purpose, a powerful, transforming purpose for you. No longer need your mind and days be confined to the mundane and temporal. Because Christ has risen, God is providing a better way to live your life in time and in eternity. Christs’ empty grave is the entrance to God’s good purpose.

    Of course, you might be a person of poor purpose. Are you? Would you agree with the writer, Isaac Asimov, who said, “As far as I can see there is no purpose to life”? Are you unsure of life’s purpose? Karl Jung, the Austrian psychiatrist, wrote, “I don’t know what the meaning or the purpose of life is but it looks as if there were something meant by it.” These men, who may have been wise in many other ways, were men of poor purpose. So I ask again, “Are you a person of poor purpose?”

    The time was World War II. The place was a Jewish concentration camp in Hungary. Hundreds of prisoners were enslaved in the compound’s factory which processed garbage and human waste into alcohol which could be mixed with gasoline. Then, one day, everything changed. Allied bombs leveled the factory and cancelled all work. That’s what the prisoners thought. Surprisingly, the next day, they were marched out to the factory as if nothing had happened. They were ordered to shovel a great pile of sand into carts and deliver it to the other end of what had been the factory. The next day the process was repeated, albeit in reverse. Had a mistake been made? No, for the same pile of sand was moved, back and forth, day after day after day.

    Slowly, a picture of their futile future became clear to the captives. One man broke down in tears and was dragged away. Another started screaming. He was beaten until he was quiet. One individual, a veteran of three years in the camp, ran toward the electrified fence. Prisoners shouted a warning. Guards demanded he stop. He didn’t. These, the first of the living dead, were soon joined in their madness by many others. The camp commandant slyly snorted that soon there would be no more need for the ovens. Men went mad because their lives had no purpose. They discovered life without a purpose is empty.

    Poor purposes. I’ve seen poor purposes, even among church-goers. Consider the man who goes to church on a day much like today. At the beginning of the service, he hears the organist miss a note during the prelude. Oooh, that missed note grates on his nerves. He sees a teenager talking when everybody is supposed to have their heads bowed in silent prayer. “What is this younger generation coming to?”, he asks himself. He feels like the usher is watching to see what he put in the offering plate, and that makes his blood boil, too. He catches the pastor, by count, in no less than five grammatical errors, including a dangling preposition, an indefinite antecedent, and two wrong verb tenses. Can you imagine? He calls himself educated. As he slips out through the side door during the closing hymn, he promises himself, “Never again will I come back here. What a bunch of stupid clods and hypocrites.”

    Compare that with the man who also goes to church on a day much like today. At the beginning of the service, he hears the organist begin with an arrangement of Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.” Its splendor sends a shiver up his spine. He is proud to see a young girl speak to her friend about prayer and the difference it has made in her life. He is glad to see the church was sharing, via a special offering, with the hungry children in the African country of Sudan. He especially appreciates the sermon that Sunday, for it answers a question which had been in the back of his brain for a long time. As he walked out the doors, he said to himself, “How can anyone enter this place and not feel God’s love?”

    It isn’t necessary, I imagine, to share that both of these men went to the same church, on the same Sunday. They heard the same organ music, saw the same girl, listened to the same sermon. They both came away with something. But they didn’t come away with the same thing. One came away with what God wanted him to hear. The other came away with–something different. That man had a poor purpose in his life. His purpose at worship was not to glorify God; not to uplift his neighbor, but to be entertained and pleased by a performance by pastor and parish. He had a poor purpose, and because he did, he went away empty.

    Almost 2,000 years ago, when Jesus walked this earth, the same thing happened. The Savior had gone to Capernaum to preach (Mark 1:21). In the middle of His sermon about forgiveness and God’s grace, a man, possessed by a demon, interrupted the worship service. The haunted man pointed out to everyone that Jesus was the Messiah, which means He was the anointed Son of God, on the divinely designated mission to save humanity from sin. With His preaching interrupted, Jesus, much to the amazement of the people, cast out that demon (Mark 1:22-29). Understandably, this action impressed the people. After the sermon was over, Jesus and His disciples went for a meal at Peter’s house. Peter’s mother-in-law was down with a fever. Jesus healed the lady on the spot–healed her so well she felt good enough to get up and serve the meal (Mark 1:30-31).

    Two healings in one day. What did people get out of it? Did they say, “Wow, this is God’s Son?” They did not. Did they hear Jesus calling them out of their past sins to a repentance which, with faith in Him would lead to salvation? They did not. What did they get out of the day? Well, probably not what Jesus wanted.

    Let’s take a look at the story. If you are living or have ever lived in a small town, you can probably guess the next part. It didn’t, in the small town of Capernaum, take too long for the news of Jesus’ miracles to get out. It got out, because, in a small town, everything gets out. The good, the bad, the ugly–it all gets out. That day, people heard: “Miracles are being performed at Peter’s place.” No appointment needed. No embarrassing physical; no sitting on a cold doctor’s table with all kinds of shiny, painful, cold and threatening stainless steel instruments. No gown that won’t stay shut. No blood pressure check, no cholesterol, no blood sugar tests. No prescriptions. No visit to the pharmacist. No “Take these pills three times a day and call me in a week and let me know how you’re doing.” No co-pays. No designated doctor. No pinching, prodding or poking. Nothing. Just come in, and “zap” you’re better. It didn’t make any difference what you had, Jesus could make you better.

    When that word of Jesus’ miracles hit the streets, people came. Before sundown, Peter’s doorway was crammed with an ailing crowd. His foyer was filled with the lame, the blind, the crippled, the possessed. It must have been an unusual parade. They hopped, hobbled, limped, groped, were led and carried. Accompanying them was the rest of the town, who came for the show. And Jesus, using the divine power that was His, had compassion on them. He healed them. Jesus healed enough of them so His reputation, like the ripples on a pond, kept spreading.

    That’s why, during the middle of the night, the next tidal wave of sick started out to see this Man of miracles. Along the dark Galilean roads they came. They didn’t come to hear the words of salvation the Preacher was sharing. They didn’t realize that Jesus’ healing of sick bodies was small potatoes compared to what He wanted to do for sinful souls. The only purpose in their minds was to wrap up their sick, slap them on stretchers, and head off to Capernaum. They wanted to get there before morning. They wanted to be first in line. They didn’t want to miss out on a good thing. And behold, it came to pass, when they arrived, Jesus was gone. Not a trace of Him remained. The families of the sick started to search. The sick themselves started to search. The disciples started to search. Everyone wondered where the miracle worker was.

    They didn’t know. But you should. Jesus realized something had gone wrong. Nothing was wrong with Him. Nothing could ever be wrong with Him. Jesus was and remains the sinless Son of God. No, the thing that had gone wrong could be found in the hearts of those hurting humans. They had come to Him with a poor purpose. It wasn’t a bad purpose. It was just a poor one, a secondary one. They were coming to Capernaum hoping to receive a far lesser gift than what God wanted to give them.

    While Jesus came into this world to offer eternal salvation, the Capernaum crowd only wanted temporary healing. They had a poor purpose. Jesus had come to point out the wonderful love of God. The people wanted to focus on the power of God. They came with a poor purpose. Jesus’ miracles were being performed to point to God’s greater power of saving souls. But people missed the point. They had a poor purpose. And because that is so, Jesus went to pray.

    In the wee hours of the morning, He went out of town, found a solitary place where He could, without clatter and clamor, converse with His Father. He might have shared how people were missing the point of His message and mission. He might have talked about how the people, like little children at Christmas, were neglecting the present and concentrating on the fancy wrappings or empty box. It wouldn’t be the last time people with a poor purpose would minimize the Savior’s mission of mercy.

    Later, by the Sea of Galilee, He would, using a boy’s barley loaves and fishes, feed thousands. Rather than seeing Jesus as the Bread of Life that could feed their souls for eternity, the people saw Him as a delivery man for physical food. That day, knowing they wanted to make Him king, Jesus escaped to a mountain where He communed with His Father (John 6:8-15; Mark 6:44). People had perceived Him with a poor purpose. Later still, as Jesus hung, dying upon the cross of Calvary, shedding His blood to wash our souls from the sins which stained them, people once again came with poor purpose. The leaders of the people, His fellow crucified, passers-by all called for a miracle. “He saved others,” they said, “but He can’t save Himself! He’s the King of Israel! Let Him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in Him” (Matthew 27:42).

    What a poor purpose they had. What narrow vision was theirs. Jesus was performing a miracle. The Son of God was, beyond any logic or imagining, giving Himself so that everyone who believed in Him might be saved. Jesus was performing a miracle. He was dying so that we might live. Jesus was performing a miracle as His love for you–not nails or guards–kept Him on that cross. Sadly, people of poor purpose couldn’t see or understand or agree with God’s purposes. They didn’t on that day. They don’t now. People with a poor purpose refuse to see He came to seek and save the lost and give His life as a ransom for many (Luke 19:10; Matthew 20:28). That, my friends is God’s good purpose.

    God’s good purpose is what Jesus had intended people to see when He preached that day in Capernaum. God’s good purpose is what He wanted them to see when He healed the demoniac and helped Peter’s mother-in-law. God’s good purpose is what the Father told Jesus to preach during those early morning hours of prayer. I say that because, by the time Peter found Jesus and reminded Him the waiting rooms were full of the sick, Jesus calmly said, “No thank you, Peter. My purpose is to preach. That’s why I have come. Let’s go somewhere else.” And that is what Jesus did.

    Jesus did what no actor or politician would have done. He left the crowds, left the popularity, and left Capernaum behind. It was an unbelievable decision. He went out and preached–to anyone who would listen. When He met a woman at a well, He preached. When He met a rich man or a leper, He preached. To big crowds on shore, He preached; to disciples on boats, He preached. He preached in Galilee, in Samaria, in Judea. He preached with words, with miracles, with His life. He preached with His death and with His resurrection from the grave. He preached a message that has shaken the world. He preached that wondrous message: through Him, salvation is there to anyone who will abandon their poor purposes and acknowledge Him as Savior and Lord.

    No doubt, the people who came to Peter’s house that day were disappointed. No doubt they complained. No doubt they were put off, put out, discouraged and depressed. Perhaps they, like the man in our church story, vowed, “Never again will I make a trip to see Jesus.” How sad people did that then. How sad they do it now. Even today, as Jesus says, “I am the Way and the Truth and the Life,” people with poor purpose (and possibly you are one of them), try to reduce the Savior to the status of teacher, social worker, and all around good guy. The Holy Spirit tells us all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, but people with poor purpose try to shoot holes in that Word of God. When Jesus says, “Love as I have loved you,” people with poor purpose say, “Sounds good on paper, but it won’t play in Peoria.” When Jesus says, “Bring the little children to Me,” people with poor purpose decide they should wait until the children are old enough or wise enough or behave good enough to decide for themselves.

    Yes, there are still people with a poor purpose. They are semi-alive, sort-of-well, and trying to rewrite, correct and redo everything Jesus came to accomplish. They pray “My will, not Thine be done.” When a tragedy occurs, people of poor purpose ignore the cross and Christ’s sacrifice and proceed to question God’s love. When illness comes, people of poor purpose threaten God with penalties unless He heals them. When difficulties arise, people of poor purpose demand God make things better–in their way, on their timetable.

    My friends, God has a higher purpose than that for you. A century from now, when people step up to your tombstone and sweep away the leaves, the inscription should be more than, “Short time alive, long time dead.” God’s purpose for you is greater than that. If you feel a hole in your life that can’t be filled, no matter how hard you try, no matter how fast you go, no matter how much you party, God has a good purpose for you. If you feel there must be more–there is more. That more is Jesus Christ, Savior and Lord.

    God has a good purpose which can use you, move you, mold you and shake you. Years ago, after a tornado, a farmer called his insurance claims adjuster. The most severe damage had been done to the barn. The roof had been lifted off in the storm and set down, intact, 50 yards away. Inspecting the situation, the adjuster commented, “Well, it looks to me like you lost your roof.” My farmer friend replied, “No sir, the roof’s not lost. It just ain’t where I want it.” Without Jesus in your life, you ain’t where God wants you. Without God’s good purpose, you ain’t hardly got no purpose at all.

    My colleagues at “The Lutheran Hour” want to share the power of God’s good purpose with you today. If you desire God’s good purpose; if you long for something more, something better than what you have experienced, they can point you the right way. Call the number that will be given before the end of today’s broadcast. Call them, because, in Christ, God has a powerful purpose for your life. Amen.

    LUTHERAN HOUR MAILBOX (Questions & Answers) for February 9, 2003

    ANNOUNCER: I’m Mark Eischer. Joining me is Pastor Ken Klaus. Before we get to the question, I was wondering, had you ever considered doing something other than being a pastor?

    KLAUS: Before I answer that, Mark, is there something you know that I don’t?

    ANNOUNCER: No, no, I just wondered if you always knew you wanted to go into the ministry.

    KLAUS: Well, Mark, when I was little, every once in a while, my dad took me down to his blacksmith shop in the Chicago loop. It was a great time by the forge, watching him do all kinds of things with hot metal. I thought about becoming a blacksmith.

    ANNOUNCER: But you decided against it?

    KLAUS: No. My father decided against it. He said if any of his boys became blacksmiths, living their lives in front of a hot forge, he would have their hide.

    ANNOUNCER: That was the end of the discussion?

    KLAUS: You don’t argue with a blacksmith. But Mark, why that question?

    ANNOUNCER: Well, it’s really based on something a listener said. He said, “I know my life has purpose. I just don’t know what it is.”

    KLAUS: You don’t think he wants to be a blacksmith, do you?

    ANNOUNCER: No, I don’t think that’s part of it. But he wants to know what to do with his life. Do you have any advice for him?

    KLAUS: Do we know if this fellow is a Christian?

    ANNOUNCER: Would that make any difference?

    KLAUS: A great deal of difference, I would think.

    ANNOUNCER: How so?

    KLAUS: If the man is an unbeliever, that is, if he doesn’t have Jesus as his Savior, I would tell him, follow the advice of the Roman emperor, Marcus Aurelius.

    ANNOUNCER: And what did the emperor say?

    KLAUS: Well, in contrast to contemporary philosophy that says I should grab all the gusto I can and have it my own way, Marcus Aurelius said things like, “Men are created that they may live for each other.”

    ANNOUNCER: That’s not a bad philosophy.

    KLAUS: No, not bad. He said other things like, “Every man’s life lives within the present; for the past is spent and done with, and the future is uncertain.”

    ANNOUNCER: Jesus took that further when He said, in Luke 12: “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear; for life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. . . your Father knows you need these things. But seek His kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.”

    KLAUS: Well, without Jesus, Marcus Aurelius was doing the best he could. He said, “Never value anything as profitable to yourself which shall compel you to break your promise, to lose your self-respect, to hate any man, to suspect, to curse, to act like a hypocrite, to desire anything which needs walls and curtains.” You notice, Mark, he was coming up with a pretty good summary of God’s Ten Commandments.

    ANNOUNCER: And the commandments are worth following, aren’t they?

    KLAUS: They are. That’s probably why the emperor said, “Do every act in your life as if it were your last.”

    ANNOUNCER: Well, the world would certainly be a better place if everyone practiced that kind of ethics, but that doesn’t always happen.

    KLAUS: No, it doesn’t.

    ANNOUNCER: And then what?

    KLAUS: Without Jesus, there isn’t a “then what.” That’s the shame of it. Life becomes so futile. I remember a young man who had just come to faith. I said, what I thought was a pastoral thing to him: “Well, now you won’t be afraid of death anymore.” To which the young man replied, “To tell you the truth, pastor, I’ve never been all that much afraid of death. But I am afraid I’ll waste my life.” I think the Lord put that fear in each of us. Nobody wishes to waste his life. Each of us thinks there must be more than just being born, living, and dying. That’s why most people start searching. It is a search that should lead to God.

    ANNOUNCER: Always?

    KLAUS: Well, it doesn’t always get there. Did you ever see the rapids of a river? Sometimes, a floating piece of debris gets caught in a whirlpool. It will bob to the surface, spin around a few times and then go down. It’ll keep on repeating that sort of thing. That’s how a lot of folks end up: a lot of motion, a lot of action. But they’re not going anywhere. Because they’re not going anywhere, they get bitter. I was in jail once–I was visiting a person in jail once–and I saw where someone had scratched into the wall of a cell, “Born to lose.”

    ANNOUNCER: But aren’t Christians born to win?

    KLAUS: Pretty close. Jesus said we are “reborn” to win (John 3:3). As sinners, before Jesus came, we were lost. Life had no purpose–live, die, be condemned. With faith in the Savior, we are cleansed of our sin and free to live the life that God wishes us to have. It is different.

    ANNOUNCER: In other words, in Christ, we are free to be what God wants us to be. Thank you, Pastor Klaus. The next Lutheran Hour message is titled, “Jesus is Willing.”

Large Print

TLH Archives