Eve of National Thanksgiving Sermon

LISTEN

Jesu Juva

“Where Does Thankfulness Come From?”

Text: Luke 17:11-19; Philippians 4:6-20

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

A typical Thanksgiving sermon goes something like this: We should be thankful. We are not thankful - or, not enough anyway. So be thankful! Amen.

That doesn’t work very well, though. We know what we should do. We know how we should be. But why are we like that? Why do many fail at thanksgiving every other day but Thanksgiving? Why has the art of the thank you note vanished? Why do we so often forget to give thanks, for one another, for what we have been given?

Perhaps the answer lies in what makes Thanksgiving Day so successful one day a year. What happens on this day that makes it special and unique and sets it apart from all other days? 

Well, it is, they say, the busiest travel time of the year. People go home. We go to be with family. We leave our isolation and our inward focus for a day or two to be with others and focus on them. We share ourselves and give of ourselves. On this day, time isn’t the enemy or something to beat, but something to share. We make an effort for others - to cook for them, to be there with them, to tell them that we appreciate them. And it’s right. It feels right. Like the way things should be. Because it is.

So, it seems that thankfulness is something we cannot do well by ourselves in isolation. Thankfulness is best done with others, is best shared with others, and when we share with others - sharing ourselves and what we have.

Which is why, I think, in our increasingly individualistic and isolated world, where friends are virtual, names are a list in our contacts, phones are answered by machines or voice mail, and conversation is by text . . . where we are together less and less, no wonder thankfulness is such a rare commodity these days. 

But it’s not only that we have squeezed each other out of our lives - how often does God, too, get squeezed out? Our knowledge of the world and how things work in nature and medicine and science means that God is not looked to so much anymore for what we need. The rain doesn’t come from God but from that low pressure system making its way across the country. The harvest comes from genetically engineered seeds, precision GPS guided plowing and reaping, and well-timed irrigation. My healing comes from a pill or an operation or stem cells re-creating in our bodies what time and disease have taken away. And in such a picture, God is so very far away - from my thoughts, from my life, from my reality. He is not in my mind, and so am I even in His? And so giving thanks? Well, it’s just not in the picture.

But then something goes wrong. Rains become floods, the harvest comes in short, the medicine doesn’t work, and sickness becomes death. And then we wonder why is God so far away? But that’s where we’ve put Him, isn’t it? 

But then what happens? Communities come together to help those effected by natural disaster. We give to the needy. Families come together to mourn. And thanksgiving blossoms again, in the midst of struggle and hurt. Because in the midst of these we are forced out of our individual and isolated lives and put together again. And we focus on others. We share ourselves and give of ourselves. We make an effort for others. And it’s right. It feels right. Like the way things should be. Because it is.

It’s why people who have lost everything are often so thankful. In the midst of something gone horribly wrong, there is something right. And we see the hand of God at work for us. The hand that wasn’t not there before - it most certainly was. We were just blinded to it. By our sin. By our stuff. By our success. By our bounty. So how fortunate when what is blinding us is then taken away, and we see again. And give thanks.

Perhaps that is what happens on Thanksgiving. Or at least, part of it. We see again. We see each other again. As not just as a name on a list or a friend with a like, but as gifts from God.

And so it was on the road that day that marked the border between Samaria and Galilee. A traveler came and broke the isolation of ten lepers. God in the flesh, come to be with His people. Not a God far away, but a God near. To share Himself and give of Himself. To give healing and life. And a Samaritan, an outsider among the Jews and an outcast because of his leprosy, got not only the gift of healing, but a family of faith. Someone who came to be with Him. And so there is thanks.

And it is this same God in the flesh, God with us, who then traveled the road to Jerusalem, to give more. To ascend the cross to give Himself and His life for us. For the forgiveness of our sins. That we be His family of faith. To be not a God far away (which, in fact, He never is), but a God near. God with us. 

And so it is this night, as this same God of life comes to be with us. God in flesh and blood, come to be with us. Our God now preached into our ears and placed into our mouths. To share of Himself and give of Himself. To give us the healing of forgiveness and life eternal. And we sinners receive not only these gifts, but a family of faith. And so there is thanks. Thanks be to God!

Thankfulness that we then share with others. Not because it is a rule or something we have to do, but because that’s what thankfulness does. It is not an isolated thing, but a shared thing. It is joy that is shared. It is giving what we have received. It is living in the image of God. And we know, this is right. The way things should be. 

It is what the Philippians did with Paul. Paul didn’t ask for their help, but they couldn’t do otherwise. And though far apart in distance, they were close in heart and faith. And so there is giving, sharing, thanksgiving.

And so it is good that we have a day set aside for this, to help us see again. To help us learn again thankfulness and how it is. A day not to be the only day of thanksgiving, but the first of many. The model that can help us make everyday a day of thanksgiving and a life of thanksgiving. A day to see again the God who is near, the God who has given us all, and who won’t stop. So that we, too, can give of ourselves and share ourselves and so regain the thankfulness and joy we seem to so often lose. Or at least misplaced. Until we see our place in Jesus again. Until we see His place on the cross again, where all is made right again. The way things should be. Right with God in Jesus, so we can be right with each other in love.

And we bless the Lord for His steadfast love.

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

Last Sunday of Church Year Sermon

LISTEN

Jesu Juva

“Victory!”

Text: Luke 23:27-40; Colossians 1:13-20; Malachi 3:13-18

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

Today you will be with me in Paradise.

Someday, those words will be spoken to you. When the one who spoke them to the criminal on the cross next to Him comes to speak them to you. Where will you be when He does? When will it be for you? How will it be for you? None of us knows. But those words will be just as true for you as they were for that criminal, and will deliver for you the same: eternal life. Death and the grave will not be your end. Life will. Life in a “today” that has no end.

But before Jesus speaks those words to you, there are others He speaks to you now. No less powerful. No less life-giving. Words of hope. Words of truth.

Today you are My child. He spoke that to you when you were baptized. And you are. A child of God. On that day, born again, born from above, into the family of God. He made you His child. He gave you His name. And on that day, you began to live a new life. A new life in a “today” that will never end. 

Today your sins are forgiven. He spoke that to you again today. And they are. Your sins cannot condemn you; they are forgiven. Your sins cannot and will not be held against you; they are forgiven. God will not judge you because of your worst moments and deeds, but because of His Son’s perfect sacrifice and deeds for you. Your sins are forgiven, for they were given to Jesus on the cross, and His life given to you.

And so because you are His child and because your sins are forgiven, this too - you will hear these words too, one day: Today you will be with me in Paradise.

What’s the alternative? Today you will be dead. Just dead. You will cease to exist. That’s what some believe. Or, today you are condemned. Sadly, that will happen to some. But those are not words God wants to speak to anyone. What God wants to say, to you and me and all people, is: Today you will be with me in Paradise.

So why doesn’t He? Just say that to all people? Well, what do you think would have happened if Jesus had turned to the criminal on that other cross, on the other side of Him, and said that. What would have been the response? A hearty laugh? Yeah, right! More ridicule? How can you save me? You can’t even save yourself! Or maybe some spit spewed Jesus’ way? Jesus’ words of grace would have been rejected, the same as some reject them today. Baptism? Repentance? Forgiveness? No thanks. 

But we here today say: Thanks be to God! Thanks be to God for His baptism which, to use the words that we heard today from Saint Paul, has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

The domain of darkness. Our world today calls itself enlightened, and thinks that Christians are the ones in the dark. God says it’s the other way around. But one thing all of us can agree on, I think: this world ain’t Paradise. There is evil. There is death. There is hatred. We live in the cancel culture. Don’t love your enemy, eliminate them. With your words. Or even with the deed.

But this is nothing new. Some say the times we live in are the worst they’ve ever been. I doubt that. Death and revenge and hate really is the oldest profession in the world. So Cain killed Abel. Saul tried to off David. Isaiah was sawn in two. Paul had his head chopped off. Peter was crucified upside down. Early martyrs were fed to the beasts or to the flames. A price was put on Luther’s head. Or think of just a few years ago, when 21 young men knelt on a beach in Libya and had their throats sliced and their heads severed from their bodies. Domain of darkness, indeed.

We could also speak of genocide, the Holocaust, and the modern day holocaust of abortion. People deceived into thinking that mercy killing and assisted suicide will give you what you need and is the answer to your problem. Or trying to escape through drugs or being someone you’re not. Domain of darkness. The darkness within . . . against ourselves, condemning us. The darkness within . . . coming out against others, condemning them.

But in the midst of this darkness, and this world that certainly ain’t Paradise, there is hope. The hope of the criminal on the cross next to Jesus. That even in the very midst of darkness, evil, and death, the love of Jesus is greater. The love that kept Him on that cross and would not let Him jump down and save Himself. The love that enabled Him to pray for forgiveness for others, even while hanging on the cross: Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. The love that brought Him here into our darkness in the first place, to do something about it. To be swallowed up by the darkness of evil, sin, and death - in your place - that He might speak these words to you and to all: Today you will be with me in Paradise.

Now, the dead can’t speak - at least, I’ve never heard a dead person speak! And so to speak those words to you, that means Jesus cannot be dead, but alive. Risen. Resurrected. Victorious. The grave that once held Him as empty as the cross that once held Him. And the voice that called forth life in creation now calling forth life from the dead. Giving life to those now dead in their trespasses and sins, and giving life to those who have here breathed their last in faith. For Jesus risen from the dead means that the domain of darkness - as strong as it is and as long as it’s been - didn’t win. He won. Life won.

And that’s true even though we’re still living in a very dark world. It’s why Paul and Peter and martyrs across time, even to those 21 young men on a Libyan beach, could offer their bodies and necks to sword, teeth, nails, and flame - they knew the victory has been won! That not even death could end their life. That when their bodies succumbed to death, their ears would hear these words: Today you will be with me in Paradise. Words spoken not as a reward for our killing others, as some today believe. But words spoken to us because of the one who gave His life for us.

And if that’s true - and it is! For try as they might, no one has even found Jesus’ body or bones and never will. If that’s true - and it is! - then we have been given a life that is certain and sure and cannot be taken from us. And so we can now use this life that has been given to us, and that cannot be taken from us, for others. We can now lay down that life for others. With that same love Jesus gave to us. With that same forgiveness Jesus gave to us. With that life Jesus has given to us. For even though we are still living in this domain of darkness, Saint Paul was right - we have been delivered from it, and transferred to the kingdom of the Son. A kingdom which has no end.

That’s our message this Last Sunday of the Church Year. This Sunday set aside to look with anticipation to when Jesus comes again in glory. That the victory has been won and the victory is ours. You may not see it right now. You might not feel very victorious. It might seem to you as it seemed in the prophet Malachi’s day, that the arrogant are blessed, and evildoers not only prosper, but put God to the test and escape. So what’s the use? Why follow the Lord? Why believe? 

Because it will not always be so. The domain of darkness is coming to an end. This world ain’t Paradise and never will be, but that doesn’t mean Paradise doesn’t exist. It does, and one day - maybe soon! - you will be with your Saviour there. He promised. He spoke it. And He did it. And as empty as the cross and grave that once held Him, so will be the cross you bear and the grave you will lie in - they will be empty, too. When you, too, hear those words, Today you will be with me in Paradise, and when the risen and victorious Jesus comes again, this time in glory, and all His angels with Him, and your body will rise - perfect, sinless, glorified.

Until that day, until we are the ones coming out of the great tribulation, we confess this. We confess Him. We speak the Word of God. We speak the word of truth. We speak Jesus. And we live Jesus. We live in His love and forgiveness, and we give His love and forgiveness. And we do all this knowing we don’t have to win. Jesus already won for us. So you don’t have to come out on top. You don’t have to be first or best of the greatest or the highest. You already have the victory. You can serve and give and do for others. You can give your life because Jesus gives you His life. Today we’ll eat His Body and drink His Blood and have His life in us. Life that never runs out. Life that will never end.

So we speak and live in Him and His victory, and He will do the rest. He always has. And He always will. It is now for us to trust. In that. In Him. For ourselves, for our children. That when we close our eyes and bow our heads like the criminal on the cross next to Jesus, it is not in defeat, but in victory. It will be our “today.” Paradise awaits. 

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

Pentecost 23 Sermon

LISTEN

Jesu Juva

“The Dawning of a New Day”

Text: Malachi 4:1-6 (2 Thessalonians 3:6-13; Luke 21:5-28)

(I wrote a version of this sermon for Concordia Pulpit Resources for this year. This is my edited and expanded version of that sermon.)

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

The sun came up this morning. Okay - I can tell you’re not impressed, or surprised! The sun comes up every morning, right? Whether you like it or not.

And honestly, there are some mornings we like it and some mornings we don’t. There is the first day of vacation and there is the first day of school. There is Christmas morning and there is the morning of your dentist appointment. There is the morning of the day you are getting married, and there is the morning of the day you are going to bid farewell to a loved one in a cemetery beside a six foot deep hole. The sun comes up, whether you want it to or not.

And whether you’re ready for it or not. Whether your homework for school or your presentation for work is done or not - the sun’s coming up. Whether you’re ready for the exam or not - the sun’s coming up. Whether you’re ready to preach or not. The sun comes up and a new day dawns . . . ready or not.

But this is not a lecture about nature. Thus spake the prophet Malachi. 

For so he told the people of Israel (and as we heard in the Old Testament reading today): the sun is going to rise. The sun of righteousness. And some will want it to, and some will not. Some will be ready, and some will not. For some it will be a day of joy, but for others it will be a day of dread. For the arrogant and the evildoers, the sun of righteousness shall arise and they shall be set ablaze, Malachi says. But for those who fear the name of the Lord, the sun of righteousness will arise with healing in His wings, and they shall go out leaping like calves from the stall. Leaping at the joy of this new day.

The new day that dawns when Jesus comes. First, when He comes as the sun of righteousness who arose from heaven and came down to be our Saviour. God incarnate. God enfleshed. To die for us - for the healing forgiveness of our sins. And then second, when He comes as the sun of righteousness who could not be swallowed up by the darkness of death. When He rose again . . . from that death. With healing. With life. For a new day. A resurrection day. When the darkness was scattered and the light won. When death was overcome and Life won. 

But there’s one more time - a third time - the sun of righteousness is going to rise, on the Last Day, when the light of His glory will shine on every person, living and dead. When those who have died will rise to life again. And some will like it and some will not. Some will be ready and some will not. For some it will be a day of dread and for some it will be a day of joy and eternal life.

But which of those three sun rises is Malachi talking about? telling us about today, as we heard? Well, living 400 or so years before Jesus was born, of course he is speaking of when the Son of God arose to be born a man. But He became man to die, and He died to rise, and He ascended to return. To speak of one of those sun rises is to speak of all of them. They’re connected. In fact, they’re really all one big work of God for you. And so Malachi writes about this sun rise, this Son rising, because he wants you to be ready. And joyful. To not dread that day when it comes for you, but look forward to it in faith.

The people in Malachi’s day, though you see, were not ready. They why they needed him to preach to them. But they should have been ready. It had not been that long since the nation had been defeated by the Babylonians and taken away as prisoners of war, exiled from their homes. The Babylonians had come in and leveled the city of Jerusalem and destroyed the Temple. It wasn’t even a contest, a real war. It was a rout. Completely one-sided. Utter and complete destruction. God’s discipline for their sin. God had sent other prophets to tell them that.

And then after 70 years living in exile in a foreign land, the people returned. Just as God had also promised. And when they returned, they rebuilt the city, the walls, the Temple, their homes, their businesses . . . but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t as strong. It wasn’t as glorious. It was a constant reminder of what happens when you turn away from God.

Yet turn away again they did! They got things up and running, but all was not well. Short memories, stubborn hearts, and the allure of sin were winning. The people doubted God’s love. They were despising His name. And so in their sacrifices, they weren’t offering to God animals worthy of Him, but ones they didn’t want - those that were blemished and lame and blind. They weren’t paying their tithes but keeping for themselves. And maybe worst of all, with all this going on, they were accusing God of not being fair and doing wrong! 

So God, as He had so often in the past, sent them a prophet to preach to them. The truth. He sent Malachi to call them to repentance. To repent of what they were doing. To repent of what they thought of Him. And to remember. To remember the law of Moses, the statutes and rules that God commanded him at Horeb for all Israel. Remember . . . or instead of that morning being one of leaping like calves in joy, they will be reduced to weeping piles of stubble and set ablaze.

But remembering the law of Moses didn’t just mean remembering the Ten Commandments, straightening up, and being good. It meant much more than that, because God gave Moses much more than that at Horeb, or as you better know that place as, Mt. Sinai. For after giving Moses the Commandments on the top of that mountain, God then also gave Moses the instructions for the Tabernacle - the mobile Temple - the place where God would dwell with His people for the forgiveness of their sins. 

And so the Tabernacle was the place (to use words from Luke that we heard today) where God’s people would straighten up, raise their heads, and look for the day their Saviour would rise up. The Commandments would show them their sin and call them to repentance, and the Tabernacle would show them their Saviour and give them forgiveness. That they wait with eager hearts for His morning. For His new day. For His coming.

So thus spake Malachi. But Malachi isn’t preaching to the people back then today - He’s preaching to you. So how are you? How is it with you? Are you eager for Jesus to come again? For the Last Day? Are you ready for that day?  . . .  Maybe yes, maybe no. Maybe sometimes. 

It’s hard, isn’t it? There’s so much to do and so little time. We’re busier than ever and work more and harder than ever. Our lives are complicated and money is short. There may even be times when you doubt God’s love because of what is going on in your life and how things in this world perhaps seem so unfair and unjust. Like the people of Malachi’s day, maybe your memory of all that God has done for you in the past is short, your heart stubborn, and the allure of sin strong. So God gets the short stick in your busy life, you prioritize other things before Him, keep more for yourself and give less to Him - you know, just whatever’s left . . . So maybe you’re hitting the snooze button on your spiritual alarm clock. 5 more minutes . . . one more thing . . . a little more enjoyment of this . . . and so you really don’t want that sun to rise. You know which one. Not yet. Because you’re not ready. Because you know you’re not who you should be. 

And like the people of Malachi’s day, we should know better, should we? Don’t we? The evidence of our need, of our sin, well . . . we see it in our lives, and it’s all around us. We see signs of it like Luke talked about. And when the when the sun of righteousness arises, when Jesus comes back again, maybe you don’t know what He’ll think of you . . .

Well God does not want you to doubt, be unprepared for that day, or fear that day. So ever merciful, he promises us a rooster, so to speak, who will herald the rising of the sun of righteousness now. That we repent and not only be ready, but joyful at His coming. Malachi calls him Elijah. John the Baptist is the name he goes by in the New Testament. He will proclaim repentance, but even more than that he will point to Jesus and crow at the Son: Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. His way of saying: Behold the sun of righteousness with healing in His wings. Healing for you. For you, sick and sluggish with sin, weighed down by life, and in need of forgiveness and joy.

And the thing about roosters: roosters don’t have snooze buttons! They just crow. Unless you cut their heads off. That happened to John. But as Herod found out, you can’t stop John from crowing that easily. His words continued to crow in Herod’s heart and mind, and his words continue to crow for us. To crow the dawning of salvation for us. From the Jordan to the Font to the Absolution to the Altar, the Son is rising to scatter the darkness of our hearts. The Lamb of God is taking away your sin. That’s why we sing John’s words right before coming to receive the Body and Blood of Jesus every week: here is Jesus’ healing touch for you. And this healing, this forgiveness, proclaimed to you, washed over you, and placed into your mouths in His Supper, answers the question: When the sun of righteousness arises, when Jesus comes back again, what will He think of me? It will be the same as He thinks of you now as He rises upon you now: you are forgiven. You are Mine.

And so because of Jesus, that day really will be the dawning of a new day for you. A great and awesome day of joy. And His coming to us now, here, preparing us for that day.

And so in just a few weeks - five, actually - we’ll sing of this sun of righteousness with great joy as we rejoice in His coming in the flesh. For we’ll sing these words of Malachi in a well-known carol:

Hail, the heav’n-born Prince of Peace! 

Hail, the Sun of Righteousness!

Light and life to all He brings, 

Ris’n with healing in His wings (LSB #380 v. 3).

And as He is risen, so are you, already now. With His forgiveness, each day, a new day in Him. With His forgiveness, each day dying to sin and rising in Him to live a new life. A day to serve others, and as Paul said today, never growing weary of doing good. Never growing weary, for you have His strength, His love, His life.

After Malachi preached it was another 400 years or so until the sun of righteousness arose and the rooster named John crowed. How long will it be for you? How long will it be until Jesus comes again? When that Son rises in glory? We don’t know and Jesus isn’t telling.

But until that day comes for you, you can live in the confidence of His forgiveness and in joy, knowing that whenever that day comes, with repentance and faith, with His forgiveness and life, you are ready. And it will be a morning unlike any other. And just as John leaped for joy when the still in utero Jesus came to visit him, so you too will leap for joy when Jesus comes for you, and you will leap with John in the day that has no end. The day of heaven. The eternal day. When the sun of righteousness will shine, never to set again.

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

Pentecost 22 Sermon

LISTEN

Jesu Juva

“Brothers and Sisters in Christ”

Text: Luke 20:27-40

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

As a pastor, I often get questions about what heaven is going to be like. What happens when we die? Where will we be? What will we be doing? Will I know everyone? Will my family still be my family? Lots of questions. 

And the truth is, the Bible doesn’t give us a lot of answers. We get glimpses, like we did last week on All Saints Day. No hunger, no thirst. No sin or death. God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. Good stuff. But still, we’d like to know more. 

But I think trying to teach us about our next life is a bit like trying to teach a baby in the womb what life in this world is going to be like for her. She’ll be the same, mostly, inside the womb and out. And yet her life will be completely different, too. So, too, for us. You’ll be the same person you are, but your life will be completely different. And yes, better.

The Sadducees we heard about today in the Holy Gospel ask Jesus a question like this - about what heaven is going to be like. And especially and specifically for this poor woman who, it seems, couldn’t have children. What they’re talking about in their question to Jesus is an Old Testament provision in the law called Levirite Marriage. It was established as a way to preserve the name and inheritance of a family. If a man died before having children, his brothers were supposed to care for his widow and try to provide an heir for his property. 

Now, set aside the fact that this is not how we do things today and taking your brother’s wife just sounds wrong. Things were different then. And especially when you lived in a land that had been given to you by God and carefully divided up - each tribe getting a specified area, and then each family within that tribe also getting a piece of the land. That land was important - it was a gift from God Himself. That land was your inheritance, and so an heir was needed. So, while you may get the heebie-jeebies about such a practice, you can understand the reason for it.

So, Jesus - what’s heaven going to be like . . . when you have this kind of situation?

But sometimes, when I receive questions about heaven, the person doesn’t really want an answer - the question is asked because they do not believe in a heaven or a life after this one. They want to be absurd and ask a question that cannot be answered and so prove that they’re right in their belief. They want to win the argument. Heaven is a hoax.

And so again with the Sadducees. They didn’t like Jesus. Together with the Pharisees and the Scribes, they were constantly trying to discredit Jesus and trip Him up with their questions. And so it is here. The Sadducees weren’t really interested in an answer because they didn’t believe in the resurrection - that’s the first thing. Couple that with the fact that the reason for Levirite Marriage had disappeared a long time ago - those tribal inheritances had long ago been wiped out in war and they were now living under the rule of Rome . . . and you get the picture. They weren’t really looking for an answer! They’re all proud of themselves for coming up with a question that will prove them right and embarrass Jesus - show Him to be the charlatan they know He is.

So, Jesus - what’s heaven going to be like . . . how will this kind of situation be unraveled?

But as He showed before, Jesus is good at diffusing such bombs. Our trickiness is not nearly so tricky as we think. The answer is easy for Jesus: marriage, the procreation of children, inheritance rights, and your family name - all are of this world, not the next. The next is different. You’ll be the same, mostly, but your life will be completely different. For the sin that caused childlessness, that caused death, that caused all kinds of sadness here, will be gone. And that woman and those seven brothers? They are all sons of God - that will be their identity. And all are sons of the resurrection - and so inheritors of heaven. Because you see, you Sadducees, there is, in fact, a resurrection and a life after this one. And after this world ends and your life here ends, He’ll still be God and the God of the living. Those still living, even though they have been “birthed” from this life to the next.

And that is the birth that you and I are waiting for. The birth that we remembered with joy last week with our All Saints Day commemoration. The birth that we remember each of these last few weeks of the church year, as our focus turns to the end and Jesus’ coming again in glory. And it’s good to look to that day and look forward to that day - even if we don’t know exactly what that day and new life will be like. Just as a new baby has lots of surprises once she is born into this world. And lots to learn. And it’s so fun to watch children discover and learn new things and experience new joys! To see the looks on their faces . . .

Perhaps God will have that same joy when He gets to see the look on your face when you get there and see the life He has in store for you!

But now, of course, our children not only experience a lot of first joys, but a lot of first pains as well. Sin, death, evil, hurt, violence. And the look on their face . . . you can tell, it doesn’t make sense to them. Why? Why did this happen? And they run to Mom or Dad for safety. . . . Until they get used to it. And it becomes just a part of life.

But it’s not just a part of life - at least, not life as God intended it to be for us. It’s an intrusion into life. An infection in our body. An invasion of evil into a world God created good. An interruption of life by death. And none of it was meant to be. None of it had to be. But it is. Like it was for this poor woman we heard about today, who got passed aound to seven brothers and still didn’t have any children. And you probably know people like her. Probably not exactly in the same situation, but in desperate need of help. In desperate need of hope.

The help and hope Jesus has come to provide. 

But the Sadducees couldn’t see that because they kept trying to fit Jesus and His life and His side of eternity into their own box; into the way they thought of things. Like with this woman and marriage. How will what we see and know here fit what will be then and there? Answer: it won’t! Because things will be different. Just as Jesus is different. Jesus, life come into a world of death to give it - to give us! - life again. To set things right in the forgiveness of sin.

For as strange as this world is to a newborn child, so is Jesus in our world. What we see. What we’re used to. The sinless one in a sinful world. The one who loves perfectly in a world of imperfect love. The one who has come only to serve, not to be served, and to lay down His life for us on the cross. That by paying the price for your sin on the cross - not with gold or silver, but with His holy precious blood and His innocent suffering and death - sin no longer be at home in your body and have no place in your life. And that by His dying your death, your death be overcome, too. 

For you’ve heard the saying: You can have it if you can pry it from my cold, dead hand! Well, that’s what Jesus did! Jesus pried your life from death’s cold hand when He rose from the dead. And that victory He achieved when He left death and the grave in His rear view mirror, He then gave to you when He baptized you. When you became a child of the living one, not the dead. A child of heaven. A child already re-born, born again, born from above, into a new life. A new life that you have now, and that will never end. Because now, in Jesus, when you die you will simply pass from life to life. From life in this world of sin and death, to life in a world with no sin or death. Only joy. Only perfection. Life the way your heavenly Father designed it for you.

Which means that even living now in a world filled with sin, disappointment, hurt, pain, suffering, death, and all kinds of evil, you have hope and help. You have a Father to run to! For while all these things can effect you, and certainly do, and will - life isn’t easy! - they cannot overcome you. For you belong to the one who has overcome them. The one who has come for you and rescued you. The one who has given you His name and His inheritance, which will last forever.

And then, the help and hope you have thus received, you can now also give. To the likes of that poor woman we heard about today, or anyone else you know of like her. Who are in desperate need of help and hope. You have what they need! Not a strength or a quality or anything in you - you have what they need for you have Jesus. So give ‘em Jesus! Give them His love, His forgiveness, His mercy and care, and above all, His Word of promise and life. 

For you see, when we keep heaven heaven and earth earth, we’ll get it right. We’ll see right. It’s when we mix them up and get them confused that we get it wrong. When we try to make this life heaven on earth (as we thought about a little last week, when we thought about what it means to be blessed), or when we try to think of heaven in terms of earth (as the Sadducees did today), it doesn’t work. And we just get more confused - about Jesus, about us, about what He is doing, and about what we should be doing. So better to keep the two distinct. That life here is not heaven on earth, and never will be; and life there is not earth in heaven. But the life we live here and now, on earth, in the struggle with sin and death, is the life we will live forever, when there is no more sin or death. And the feast we receive now, a foretaste of the feast we will receive forever. Jesus’ feast. The feast of life.

And that woman the Sadducees asked about . . . in the resurrection, she will not have seven husbands but seven brothers in Christ. And she’ll see her brothers named Moses, Abraham, Issac, and Jacob . . . and add your name to that list, too. For all who are children of God are brothers and sisters in Christ.

And if that’s the case . . . maybe, just maybe we can see each other that way now, and live that way toward each other now. Sons of God in earthly vocations. And so that person in trouble, who is in need, who needs my help, who is struggling, who is dying . . . is not a stranger, not an enemy, and not an inconvenience - but my brother or sister in Christ. Even if they’re not yet in Christ, who’s to say they won’t be? So maybe I can look at them that way now. And treat them that way now. And give ‘em Jesus. 

That is, after all, how Jesus sees us. And treats us. Giving us Himself. His life, His forgiveness, His Body and Blood. That we be His now. That we be His forever.

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

Feast of All Saints Sermon

LISTEN

Jesu Juva

“Seeing Blessedness Differently”

Text: Revelation 7:9-17; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages.

Old people and young people. 

Professionals and blue collar workers. 

The rich and refugees.

An old man who died in hospice care and an infant who never made it out of the womb.

Prison guards and prisoners.

Doctors and overdose victims.

Parents and children.

The well-educated and the uneducated.

Divorcees and orphans.

Those who were apostles and those who were abandoned.

Murderers and martyrs.

The well-known and the unknown.

The Eskimo and the African.

Those who lived BC and those who lived AD.

The hearing and the deaf.

The prince and the pauper.

All present. All equal. Standing side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder. One. United.

What do they all have in common? Not much, you might say. But this: sin. And death. For as we heard last week: There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3). The family tree of sin skips no generation, no person. And the wages of sin is death (Romans 6).

But we heard this too, today. Something else they all have in common. They are clothed in white robes. For they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Robes once black and filthy with sin, now washed white by the red blood of Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. From the family tree of sin they have been grafted into the family tree of Jesus, and so are all sons of God. Sins forgiven. Grace received. For the wages of Jesus’ death is life. 

So they all have this in common too: they’re all saints. God’s saints. Made saints by Him.

You couldn’t see it, though, in this life. They looked just like everyone else. Like sons of men not saints; not sons of God. What we are and will be is hidden now. Just as it was with Jesus. A Nazarene. A Galilean. Joseph’s son. By sight. 

But this great multitude is different now. And they now see what could not before be seen. And we will one day join them and see. And when we do, that person on your right and your left, in front of you and behind you, when you’re in that great multitude . . . you just might be surprised. Don’t underestimate the power of the Word and Spirit of God. There is no one too sinful. No one too far gone. Good news for you and me. That as John said, everyone who thus hopes in him - Jesus - purifies himself as he is pure. Everyone. Hope in Jesus, faith in Jesus, receives Him and is purified in Him; is sainted in Him.

But why is this all hidden now? Why so much sin and sadness now? Why not more blessed now? Why doesn’t Jesus take better care of His own? many would ask. 

But who says He’s not? Maybe we’re just thinking about it wrong. Measuring wrong. Sinful minds don’t always get what God is doing or understand His ways. So maybe we question because we don’t know what blessed really is. 

For we tend, I think, to think of blessed as sort of heaven on earth. To be blessed is to have no tears or sorrow. To not be in want. To have our heart’s desires. To be healthy and strong and successful and happy. Always. Or at least, most of the time. 

But Jesus thinks and speaks very differently than that. For if those are the things we set our hearts on, the things we want God to give us more than we want Him, then they are false gods, and we are not blessed at all. Not really. And that’s what happens in this world and life, isn’t it? That’s where the great multitudes are here. Standing around the thrones of happiness, success, health, wealth, strength, and ease.

But how differently Jesus thinks and speaks of what it means to be blessed. The Beatitudes - that list of blesseds that we heard from Matthew - sound strange to our ears because they are strange to our hearts. Our hearts that are often too short-sighted, too here and now. But our Father always has the long-term in mind, eternity, and is leading us toward that; working us toward that.

And so All Saints Day is good not only for us to rejoice, to comfort us who mourn, as one of the Beatitudes says. But to re-orient our hearts and minds. To set our faith compass back to true north. To set our minds on things above, on things that last beyond this world and life. And that blessed is not what we do or what we have, but what God does. In Jesus. For He is not only the one who blesses, He is the blessed one, and the very embodiment of the Beatitudes. All that we are He becomes, so that all that He is be given to us. And we be blessed - not so much with what He gives, but as He gives Himself to us.

And so the Beatitudes are blesseds like no other because His is a kingdom like no other, and He is a King like no other. 

A King who joins the slave in slavery.

Who mourns with us who mourn.

Who doesn’t demand His rights but comes and serves.

Who has everything and leaves it all behind.

Who doesn’t demand but mercies.

Who loves the loveless.

Who even joins us in death and lies in our grave.

And who is reviled and mocked for doing just this.

But exactly there is our blessed. Not having a perfect, trouble-free, healthy and wealthy, always happy and joyful life. But rather this: that wherever you are, in whatever your struggle, the blessed one is with you. With you with His forgiveness and life. To pull you through. For you are too weak. You are too sinful. But He is not. And so He comes. To pull you through. That you be one of those coming out - being pulled out - of the great tribulation. By His strength, not yours. His life, not yours. His holiness, not yours. 

But yes, yours! For He gives you His. His life. His holiness. The blood of the Lamb washing you clean in the Font, in the gift of Absolution, at the Altar. For here, where Jesus comes down to us with His gifts is where heaven is on earth. And so that great multitude that no one could number is not just there, but here, too. It’s just that those in glory have received the fullness of blessedness. Us, not yet. We feebly struggle, they in glory shine (LSB #677, v. 4). But that day is coming for us. When Jesus will pull us through death and the grave to where there is only life.

And Jesus did that for how many this year? How many saints? Some who lived but a few hours. Some who lived a long life. Some quickly. Some slowly and with great difficulty. Some alone. Some surrounded by loved ones. 

It’s always difficult for us. For what we see is the separation, the pain, the death, the finality of it. But All Saints Day would teach us to see as Jesus sees. That in Him, death is but sleep, and the grave but the gate to everlasting life. That blessed are those who have Him and are in Him, no matter what you look like or have here. 

That’s a hard lesson to learn. For our hearts keep tugging us back to the things of this world, and to think of our blessedness in them - in what we have and see. So maybe a little trouble is good for us. Maybe a little poor in spirit and mourning and persecution is just what we need to keep us focused on true blessedness. Maybe some mercying and peacemaking is just right to keep me from focusing too much on me. To learn to see as Jesus sees. To see Him pulling us through. To see Him blessing us even now.

And to give thanks. For those who left us this year. Who left this veil of tears and are now in that great multitude in the fullness of blessedness. 

And to look forward to when that day will come for us. When all God’s promises to you are fulfilled. When you move from this side of the altar, the side we see, to the other side, the side we cannot - but that is no less real. Until that day, we gather here, with the angels and archangels and yes, all the company of heaven around the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Who takes away your sin and gives you His forgiveness, life, and salvation. To you. Here. Now. To you. And so blessed. Saint. You. 

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