The Lutheran Hour

"Worth the Wait"

#93-47
Presented on The Lutheran Hour on July 26, 2026
Speaker: Rev. Dr. Michael Zeigler
Copyright 2026 Lutheran Hour Ministries

Text: Matthew 13:44

Officially, she’d been waiting for this day for a whole year. Unofficially, it was longer—two, maybe three years. “There were two parts,” she explained to me. “There was “Waiting?” (with a question mark), and “Waiting.” (with a period).

Waiting-with-a-question-mark comes with a lot of fear and uncertainty. You’re tempted to back off and hold off to protect yourself, because you don’t know. You don’t know if the wait is going to be worth it. But waiting-with-a-period, it’s different. Fear and uncertainty are still there, but less so, because there’s also anticipation and excitement and joy, and also different temptations, not so much tied to fear, but to control, to try to run ahead, to figure out everything now in advance, before its time to figure it out (whatever it is), to figure it out together. You still have to wait, but the waiting is different. It’s not indefinite anymore, because you know, or trust, that it’ll be worth it. That’s what it means to wait-with-a-period. And it’s different than having to wait-with-a-question-mark.

That conversation was in the context of an upcoming wedding, but there are other situations when that distinction applies—waiting-with-a-question-mark versus waiting-with-a-period. For example, if you’ve already bought your plane tickets, or the school has already sent you their letter of acceptance, or the company already offered you the job, or your retirement date’s already set—that’s waiting-with-a-period.

But if the tests came back inconclusive, or the treatment plan is experimental, or the person that you’re with every day seems more distant, and you have no clue what comes next—that’s what it means to wait-with-a-question mark.

They’re different, but also mixed together, because a period will stretch into an ellipsis and then a question mark, but then another period or an exclamation point, but soon another question. And it goes on like this. And then there’s the big question mark at the end no one can escape. What comes next after this life? What are we waiting for, ultimately?

Earlier this summer, I participated on a team that went out into our local neighborhoods and knocked on doors and asked people if they would be willing to take a brief religious survey. The team was mostly young people, with an adult to supervise. I was the adult who accompanied Avery, a ninth-grade girl, and Carter, an eighth-grade boy. Avery, Carter, and I knock on this door, and a man in his fifties, answers. We learn his name is Don.

Carter, the eighth-grader, administers the survey. We hear that Don used to attend church but he doesn’t go anymore, that he has a Bible in the house but couldn’t think of a favorite Bible story. But he thinks that Jesus is a “real person.” In about two minutes, Carter gets to the end: “I have one more important question to ask you,” he says. “Where do you believe you will go when you die?” Don said he wasn’t sure, but he tries to be a good person.

Avery marked down Don’s final response on the clip board and Carter says, “Could I share with you where I know I will go when I die?” Don squints down at Carter and says, “I don’t think you can know that.” Carter stops a second, not sure how to proceed. This wasn’t in the training. So, he improvises, “Well, can I tell you what I think I know?”

What about you? When you think about waiting to see what comes after this life—what kind of waiting is it? Do you wait with a question mark, or with a period? Carter told Don what he thinks he knows. He used the three-S method to remember the message: sin, separation, and Savior. Carter stood there with Don squinting down at him and said, “Well, I try to be a good person, too. But I also sin every day. And I know that even one sin would separate me from God forever, because God is perfect. And that’s why I’m glad to know that God sent His only Son, Jesus Christ, to save me, to die, to pay for my sins, and then to rise again so that I can rise and live with Him forever. And I want you to know that this is most certainly true for you, too. Well, that ends our survey. Thanks for your time. Could anyone from our church call you or follow up with you?” Don politely declined but thanked us for stopping by.

Of course, there’s more to the story of Jesus than what Carter shared with Don, but two things ought to be said. First, it takes a lot of guts to do what Carter and these other students did, and I’m grateful to have had a front row seat to their courage. And second, even though there is more to the story of Jesus, Carter shared the heart of it—those three Ss: sin, separation, and Savior–they’re true for you, too. God sent his Son to change you from having to wait with a question mark, now to wait with a period.

Now, we can quibble like Don did about whether any of us can know anything with certainty, end of story, no more questions, period, dot. But the certainty Jesus offers is not of a theoretical or experimental kind. It’s the certainty of a promise, of a secure relationship. It’s not entirely different from the transition between “We’re just dating” to engaged. How do you cross that threshold? How do you know if this person is trustworthy, that they won’t betray you or abandon you, that they’ll be worth the wait? You can’t answer those questions with theoretical or experimental knowledge. It has to be personal and relational. The question mark becomes a period when you let down your guard—and trust.

To wait-with-a-period doesn’t mean all fear and uncertainty go away immediately. It doesn’t mean every question is answered. It doesn’t answer “What’s next?” or “Why?” or “How?” or “Where, exactly?” But it does answer “Who?” Because you know, you trust that, for better or for worse, this person is your person. That’s no longer a question.

It’s the same dynamic with Jesus, but different, because every merely human person will let you down. Even if they’re faithful for a lifetime, they’ll let you down by dying. Jesus, in contrast, showed you His commitment by dying. And when He rose from the dead, He proposed to become yours forever. Will you trust Him?

But there is more to the story. Because Jesus is not just “your person.” He is for all people, for the whole creation, and above all, He is for God, His Father. He’s the Son of God. He’s the King. And He’s got a Kingdom to run. And it’s a mess out there, because there’s a war, a spiritual war, with a spiritual enemy and forces of evil and seeds of doubt and discord and we’re all complicit in it. And there are people out there in the world who hurt others and cause them to stumble and break God’s Law, and those people are us.

We try to be good, but we fall short, we sin, and just one sin is enough to separate us from God forever, because God is perfect and He has vowed to restore His good creation and so there will be a Day of Judgment, final judgment, when good and evil are separated once and for all. And Jesus bears that awful responsibility to do the separating, to make the final call. He’s the Judge, not me, not you. He will sort out everything out in the end. And so the only question that really matters is, “Will you trust Him to do that—even if it doesn’t look like how you thought it should?”

That was the question Jesus’ first followers faced. Will they trust Jesus even when God’s way of being King raises questions: Why are some saved but not others? Why does it have to be this way, not some other way? And why do we have to wait so long? Jesus didn’t answer those questions, at least not in the way we were expecting. He answered by telling stories. In the Bible, in the Gospel according to Matthew 13, we hear seven of His stories, all in a row. It takes about 10 minutes to hear them all. So, I invite you to pause and really listen to them with me. Notice how each story He tells is drawn from everyday life. They’re all about people working to secure and prepare food—bread mostly, but also fish and some mustard seeds for seasoning. It’s all very ordinary.
But each story has bits that raise questions. So, imagine it—that you’re there, one evening, after work, standing alongside the shore of the Sea of Galilee. There’s a cool breeze coming in off the water, and you’re listening to Jesus tell stories. It goes like this:

That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat down beside the sea. And great crowds gathered around Him, So … He got into a boat and sat down [in it]. And the whole crowd stood on the beach. He told them many things in parables, saying, “Look, a farmer went out to sow [his seed]. And as he sowed, some of the seed fell along the path, and the birds came and devoured them. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and immediately they sprang up, since they had no depth of soil, but when the sun rose, they were scorched. And since they had no root, they withered away. Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Other seeds fell on good soil and produced grain, some a hundred times more [than what was sown], some sixty, some thirty times more. Whoever has ears to hear, listen.”

Now, pause there a moment. Next, Matthew tells us that Jesus’ followers asked Him why He teaches with these parable stories. His answer is cryptic, but it has to do with the fact that Jesus knows that most of these folks are still skeptically squinting down at Him, and He’s trying to slip past their defenses so He can heal them, even though He knows they will reject Him, and that their rejection of Him has already been enfolded in God’s plan. Then He explains the meaning of the story He just told, the one about the sower.

He says: “When anyone hears the Word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what has been sown in his heart. This is the one who was sown along the path. And the one who was sown on the rocky ground, this is the one who hears the Word and immediately receives it with joy, but he has no root in himself. Instead, he is temporary, and when trouble or persecution comes because of the Word, immediately he is caused to stumble. And the one who was sown among the thorns, this is the one who is hearing the Word, but the cares of this age and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the Word, and it proves unfruitful. And the one who was sown on the good earth, this is the one who is hearing the Word and is understanding it. Yes, he begins to bear fruit and to produce, in one case a hundred times more than what was sown, in another case, sixty, and another case , thirty times more.”

Jesus put another parable before them, saying, “The kingdom [the rule and reign] of heaven has become like a man who had sowed good seed in his field. And while people were sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds on top of the wheat and went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds also appeared. And the servants of the master of the house came and said to him, ‘Sir, you sowed good seed in your field, didn’t you? How then does it have weeds?’ And he said to them, ‘An enemy has done this.’ So the servants said to him, ‘Then do you want us to go and collect them [the weeds]?’ But he said, ‘No [don’t do that], because in collecting the weeds you might uproot the wheat along with them. Let them both grow together until the harvest, and at harvest time I will say to the harvesters, first collect the weeds and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.”

He put another parable before them, saying, “The rule and reign of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field [a mustard seed] which, on the one hand, is the smallest of all the seeds, but on the other hand, when it has grown it is greater than all the garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.”

He told them another parable. “The rule and reign of heaven is like leaven [like yeast] that a woman took and hid in ten gallons of wheat flour, until it was all leavened.”

All these things Jesus said to the crowds in parables; and He said nothing to them without a parable. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet: “I will open My mouth in parables; I will speak what has been hidden since the foundation of the world.”

Then Jesus left the crowds and went into the house. And His disciples came to Him, saying, “Explain to us the parable of the weeds of the field.” He answered, “The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man. The field is the world, and the good seed is the sons of the Kingdom. And the weeds are the sons of the evil one, and the enemy who sowed them is the devil. The harvest is the end [the consummation] of the age, and the reapers are angels. Just as the weeds are gathered and burned with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send His angels, and they will gather out of His kingdom all causes of stumbling, of sin, and those who practice lawlessness, and throw them into the fiery furnace. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the rule and reign of their Father. Whoever has ears to hear, listen.

“The rule and reign of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.

“Again, the rule and reign of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it.

“Again, the rule and reign of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and gathered fish of every kind. When it was full, men drew it ashore and sat down and sorted the good into containers but threw away the bad. So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the fiery furnace. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

This is the Gospel of Matthew 13.

After telling these seven stories, Jesus asked His disciples, “Have you understood all these things?” How would you answer? Do His stories raise more questions for you than they answer? Questions like … why is that farmer wasting so much seed—scattering it in all those risky places where it won’t accomplish anything? And why doesn’t that other farmer find a way to get rid of the weeds now? And why is this gardener letting his vegetable patch get overgrown with a ridiculously large mustard bush that’s infested with a hoard of sparrows? Doesn’t he realize that those ungrateful little parasites are going to pick apart his produce piece by piece? And what is with that woman doing with ten gallons of flour? That would be enough bread to feed a small army!

Jesus’ stories raise questions. And it’s not just the parts that you don’t understand, but also for the parts you do. Because the stories so closely resemble what Jesus Himself has been doing, and why He’s already facing opposition set in stone that will lead to His crucifixion and death. Because He’s spreading His Word among people who don’t seem to care. And if we care at all about the cause of good in the world, it puts a big question mark over Jesus’ whole project.

It’s in the context of those questions, Jesus tells the next three stories, starting with the one about the hidden treasure. Often, Christ-followers have taken this to be a story about us, that we’re supposed to be the guy in the story who sells everything to buy the treasure, which is supposed to be a symbol of our sold-out commitment to Jesus. And of course, Jesus calls us to be “all in” with Him. But is that what this parable is about? In the other parables we heard, the main actor in the story always represents God, and what God is doing in Jesus to reclaim His good creation. So why would this one be any different?

Maybe Jesus isn’t demanding anything here. He’s not putting a question mark over our commitment to Him. He’s making a statement about His commitment to us and to God. And even though there are other questions left unanswered, this one isn’t. Jesus is committed. To you. He’s your Person. Period.

See, you are treasure to Jesus. He sold everything and gave His life on the cross for you, to purchase you back from sin and death and the power of the devil. And He will sort out everything else—the weeds from the wheat, the good from the bad, what to do with that ten-gallon-batch of dough once it rises, and how to find joy in an overgrown, sparrow-infested mustard bush, because, despite the other questions, this one’s been settled. You know what Jesus thinks of you: you’re treasure worth dying for—you and everyone you meet.

The young woman I was speaking about at the beginning, who was looking forward to her wedding day, her name is Sophie. And by the time this message is released, God-willing, Sophie will be our new daughter-in-law, the bride of our eldest son, Josiah. Sophie told me that while she and Josiah were in that waiting-with-a-question-mark phase, when they didn’t know if their lives would fit together, they had a phrase in Spanish they would say, “Ojalá,” which means, “If God wills it?”—question mark. Sophie told me that when Josiah had saved up his treasure to buy her a wedding ring, on the inside, he had that phrase engraved, Ojalá—but now, not as a question, but a statement, “If God wills it.” I said, “It’s like how the Bible says, “If God is for us, who can be against us?”

“Yeah,” she said, “It’s like that.

“If” doesn’t mean maybe. It means because God wills it. Period. End of story.

But what about Don, the guy we visited and took our survey? We thought it was the end of the story. But, just as we were walking down his front steps that evening, a cool breeze blows, and a car pulls up. A woman steps out carrying a Happy Meal from McDonald’s—Don’s dinner, we learned later. The woman’s name was Kelly, Don’s wife. We explained what we were up to, and she agreed to take our survey, too. Avery gave the survey this time. She did great. And when we told Kelly about our church down the street, she said, “You’re kidding. You’re from that church? You know, just the other day, Don and I were talking about visiting that church. And here you are.”

I’ve been looking for Don and Kelly these last few Sundays at church. They haven’t come yet. But we’re still waiting, and sowing, in the Name of Jesus. Amen.

Reflections for July 26, 2026
Title: Worth the Wait

No reflection segment this week.

Music Selections for this program:

“A Mighty Fortress” arr. Peter Prochnow. Used by permission.
“Crucifer” by Sydney H. Nicholson, arr. Peter Prochnow. Used by permission.
“From God Can Nothing Move Me” arr. by Henry Gerike. Used by permission.
“From God Can Nothing Move Me” From The Concordia Organist (© 2009 Concordia Publishing House) Used by permission.