Jesu Juva
“A Place for All the Saints”
Text: Revelation 7:2-17; Matthew 5:1-12; 1 John 3:1-3
Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.
No more hunger. No more thirst. No more scorching heat. Springs of living water. No more tears.
It sounds a little like all the promises we’ve been hearing for the past few months! Everything will be great. You’ll have all you need and want. No more heat upon you from others. Everyone will be happy. If you just elect ______________ (fill in the blank).
And all the crowds shout: Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our candidate forever and ever!
But, of course, it won’t be like that, no matter who is elected. Sin will go on. It might look different, things might sounds different, but one thing you know about sinners: they gonna sin. It’s what we do. We break promises. We hurt others. We hurt ourselves. So there will always be hunger, thirst, heat, and tears. Not by God’s design, but because of our sin.
This world will never be a utopia. Which, ironically, is exactly what that word means. I just started reading a book that explained that. That the word utopia is made up of two Greek words - ou, meaning no; and topos, meaning place. So, utopia is literally: no place. Nowhere.
And yet today, All Saints Day, we declare there is such a place. Not here. Not yet. But there was, and there will be. There was, in the beginning, when God created everything perfect and good, and before our sin ruined it. And there will be again, when God re-creates everything perfect and good again. A new heavens and a new earth. Not a utopia; not a no place. But a place. Where the dwelling of God is with man, and man with God. No more separation caused by sin, because there will be no more sin. Or death. Or tears. Only life. As it was meant to be.
This is what God has desired all along. This is the way He made us. To have life with Him. And then we decided that wasn’t good enough. We wanted more. And when Adam and Eve reached for more, they got more alright! But not the more they thought they were getting! They got more pain, more tears; trials and trouble, and death.
But still God desired to dwell with man. He did not give up on us. It could no longer be the way it used to be. Now as fallen, sinful beings, for God to dwell with us as He did in the beginning would only bring our destruction. So it would now have to be different. So God now hides Himself in order to dwell with us. In clouds. In burning bushes. In Tabernacles and Temples. Until He did His greatest work, and came to us hiding in our own flesh and blood. Jesus, Immanuel, God, the blessed one, and the source of all blessing, God with us. Not just to save us, although yes, that. But not just save the old creation, but re-new us; make us new creations. Undo what we did. So that as it was in the beginning, it could - and would - be again.
Jesus came to do that, and to show us what such a life looks like. What it means to be blessed. He hungered and thirsted for righteousness - our righteousness. He was meek and merciful, pure in heart, a peacemaker. And for all this He was reviled and persecuted and had all kinds of evil spoken against Him, culminating in His reviling, accusations of evil, and crucifixion on the cross. When once again a tree ended the dwelling of God with us.
Except this time, it really didn’t! This time, just as a tree in the Garden once overcame us, a tree saved us. Jesus’ tree. The tree once stained by His blood, but which led to His resurrection. That His blood be for us the cleansing we need, when in baptism He washes us clean from our trespasses and sins and makes us children of God. And so we are, John goes on to say. We are, though what we will be has not yet appeared. That is, just as the Son of God was hidden in human flesh and blood, so are we children of God in this world and life. Hidden. We’re subject to the same troubles and struggles as everyone else. But with this difference . . . we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. Then we will see and be seen, and what was hidden now revealed for all to see.
And what will we see? A great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands.
A great multitude. Which is great to hear, comforting, because being a Christian, as many of you know, can be very lonely. Great multitudes of Christians seem to be less and less these days. A prominent Lutheran theologian once called Christianity The Lonely Way. Lonely at work, at school, in your neighborhood, maybe even in your own family. Others not sharing your beliefs but scoffing at them. And it’s easy to feel vastly outnumbered in this world where so many are rushing at increasing speed away from the Christian truth. But the good news is this: one God dwelling with you is more than a great multitude against you.
So though perhaps lonely now, there is a great multitude that belongs to Christ, and you among them. You, for you have washed your robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. You, for your hope is in the Lord, and everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure. All Saints Day means you are not alone and never will be. You are part of the Body of Christ, one flesh with your Saviour and with your fellow believers.
So not what can be seen or felt defines you - your faith does. Your saint-creating, life-sustaining, forgiveness-receiving, faith. Faith that receives the gifts of God and makes them your own. So while it has become fashionable these days to define yourself, name yourself, identify yourself, far better is to receive the name and identity given you by God Himself: child of God, and saint.
And blessed with such an identity and life, you can live accordingly. A blessed life. A saintly life, we could even say. The life Christ lived, and as we heard today. Not, though, as what you have to do to be blessed, but because you are blessed. God has already promised you all the blessings we heard today in those verses from Matthew, the Beatitudes. So you’re not doing those things in order that God may bless you, as if you are earning those blessings. Rather, you’re doing those things because you are blessed. These are the things that make your blessedness visible.
So according to Jesus, what does a saint look like? What does blessed look like? It looks like this: poor in spirit, meek, mourning, hungering and thirsting for righteousness, merciful, pure in heart, peacemakers, and persecuted. Maybe not how you think of a blessed life! Certainly not what the world would consider blessed! But should we not expect a different view from a world rushing at increasing speed away from the Christian truth? It is, in fact, when the Church - or us Christians - look and sound and align with the world that should be a warning sign to us, to return to the Scriptures, to repent and return to Christ, the source of every blessing. To return to Him here at the altar and receive His Body and Blood hidden in bread and wine. And thus holied, sainted, raised, and forgiven, live blessed! Live this blessed life we’ve been blessed with.
Live this life until we join with that great multitude coming out of the great tribulation; coming out of the trials and troubles, the struggles and persecution of this world, and take our place before the throne of God. We remember today those who have done so this year - from our congregation, from our families. We mourn our loss and rejoice in their gain. God kept His baptismal promises to them and took them home. That great multitude got a little bigger. And for that we give thanks.
And we give thanks for the multitude that is gathered here today. The visible multitude isn’t so big. But the invisible multitude is! And unseen doesn’t mean unreal. The angels and archangels and all the company of heaven. We confess their presence because it is very much real. Here, around Christ, we take our place with them. With all the saints. The Lamb in the midst of the throne is their Shepherd; the Lamb on the altar is ours.But it’s the same Lord, tending His flock, losing none that belong to Him. That All the Saints find their rest in Him.
So whatever happens on Tuesday, whoever gets elected, lift up your hearts to the one making all things new. Lift up your minds to the truth of His Word. And lift up your faith to the promises that will never let you down. The promises not of a politician, but of a Saviour. Of God Himself. Who does not promise a utopia, a no place, but promises you a place - a place with Him, and with All the Saints, forever.
In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.