Image: Frank Wesley, 1923-2002. Forgiving Father, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt University Divinity Library, Nashville, TN.
I approach today’s sermon with some fear and trembling. The Fourth Commandment tells us to honor our mothers and fathers. But no two people experience family life the same. Some of you had an emotionally healthy childhood in a healthy family. Some of you did not. Some of you may have experienced abuse and neglect; others did not. Some of you have an ongoing relationship with your parents or children and others are estranged. And for many of you, your parents are deceased. So, preaching on this commandment can be tricky, especially for me, since my father has joined us for worship this morning! I imagine that it’s kind of like walking into a minefield. So, I ask for your forgiveness if I step on something that is sensitive or painful from your own family experience.
It’s even more sensitive when you interpret the commandment as Luther (and indeed, much of the Christian tradition) does. Luther doesn’t just include parents in this commandment, but all those placed in positions of authority. It’s especially ironic when we consider that we are approaching the 250th anniversary of the founding of this nation, begun with a profound act of disobedience to the British crown! So, in the American context, where attitudes towards authority have often ranged from distrust to hatred, what does this commandment even mean for us? What does it mean to honor those placed in a position of public trust, whether they are our parents or those with wider authority, especially when their failures are so painfully obvious?
Luther wrote his Large Catechism in a time of chaos, partially caused (or at least inspired) by the Reformation he championed. But it’s not like everything was perfect before. While there was an emperor, there were a lot of petty princes with their own goals and grievances. As much as we complain about our governments today, sometimes justifiably, it helps us to remember that government was so much worse in Luther’s day. And those in authority were usually brutal, narrow-minded, and extremely self-serving. Neither were parents any better than parents today. In many cases they, too, were much worse. If individuals had no rights, children were scarcely even persons. Yet, based on this commandment, Luther tells us that parents, and by extension, those in authority, are God’s representatives. As such, more than anything else they do, that is their God-given vocation with responsibilities for those they are given charge over. Luther gives some pointed warnings to parents and all in authority:
For [God] does not want scoundrels or tyrants in this office or authority; nor does he assign them this honor (that is, power and right to govern) so that they may receive homage. Instead, they should keep in mind that they owe obedience to God, and that, above all, they should earnestly and faithfully discharge the duties of their office, not only to provide for the material support of their children, servants, subjects, etc., but especially to bring them up to the praise and honor of God. Therefore do not imagine that the parental office is a matter of your pleasure and whim. It is a strict commandment and injunction of God, who holds you accountable for it.[1]
Yet, parents and those in authority are flawed human beings. We all know we make many mistakes. Most of the time, parents do their best. I would even go as far to say that most of the time, most people in positions of public trust do their best, too. Sometimes, though, our best is really bad. Sometimes our best still causes harm. A common wish among pastors who are parents is to not have to apologize to our families at the end of it, although most of us will have to. We all fail. We don’t live up to God’s intention for us.
Yet, the same can be said for our other roles as children, members of a congregation, and citizens. We live in an age of snap judgments and condemnation. Gossip and poisonous conversations abound under the guise of concern. But it’s not like this is anything new. That’s why Luther also writes:
It must therefore be impressed on young people that they revere their parents as God’s representatives, and to remember that, however lowly, poor, feeble, and eccentric they may be, they are still their mother and father, given by God. They are not to be deprived of their honor because of their ways or failings.[2]
It is God who makes the office of mother and father or other position of authority worthy of honor, not the individual person who occupies it. Failures are often painfully obvious. What is often less obvious is the good we have received. Luther writes again:
Especially when an evil hour comes, we rage and grumble impatiently and forget all the blessings that we have received throughout our life. We do the very same thing with our parents, and there is no child who recognizes and considers this, unless led to it by the Holy Spirit.[3]
The Spirit leads us to recognize our parents and those in authority as fallen human beings, just like us. There is a time to call people to account for what they have done or what they continue to do. But we do so only in the knowledge that we are all have failed. We honor our parents and all in authority when we recognize that we all stand before God in need of forgiveness, grace, and mercy. We honor them when we lift them up in prayer. We honor them when we forgive.
And that is why we come to church. We come to church, with all our failures and flaws, to receive God’s grace in Word and Sacrament. In Word and Table, we receive Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who fulfilled God’s law of love for us when we were utterly powerless to do so. When I say, “Your sins are forgiven,” that means that they really are, as if God himself said it. When we share the peace, we share the forgiveness we receive from God with one another. When you come forward today and hear, “The body of Christ, given for you,” or “The blood of Christ shed for you,” God is using the voice of the person speaking them to give us all grace and forgiveness, without regard to who the person is, their virtues, or vices. That is the radical, offensive nature of God’s grace. It doesn’t matter how good or bad a person is that is saying those words. What matters is that those words of forgiveness come from God and they can be trusted. You and I are forgiven. Set free.
So God help us today, and every day, to have the ability to hear those who have responsibility over us even when we vehemently disagree; the wisdom to discern when to obey despite our disagreement or to confront and challenge; the humility to recognize our own failures; and the strength to forgive, trusting that such forgiveness comes from God. God free us from hatred and unforgiveness so that we can live in the freedom we have in the Spirit. Amen.
© 2026, David M. Fleener. Permission granted to copy and adapt original material herein for non-commercial purposes.
[1] Robert Kolb, Timothy J. Wengert, and Charles P. Arand, The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2000), 409.
[2] Ibid, 401.
[3] Ibid., 404.
