Jesu Juva
“Dying a Good Death”
Text: Luke 24:1-12; 2 Timothy 4:6-8;
Isaiah 25:6-9; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.
Martin Luther said that the Christian faith isn’t so much about living a good life as it is dying a good death.
Because for all of us - believers and unbelievers alike - life has its ups and downs, good days and bad days, joys and sorrows. We strive for the good, but the bad is never far behind. I know I’ve gotten a lot more good in life than I deserve. Life throws you curveballs. And sometimes you knock them out of the park. But more often, I think, at least it seems to be true for me, you swing and miss. Roy loved his Nationals, so I thought I’d get a baseball analogy in here for him!
But dying a good death does not depend on our batting average in life. In fact, it is quite the opposite. For dying a good death, a confident death, a peaceful death, is when you die with faith in Jesus Christ and all that He has done for us. When we depend on His batting average and not our own. For on that Sunday morning, after His three days in the tomb, the women found out that Jesus had indeed knocked it out of the park with His resurrection from the dead. He was the victor, once and for all.
So though I was not there on that Thursday night, when the call came for Roy to leave this life and enter His eternal rest, I can say that Roy died a good death. I saw him that Monday. He confessed his sins, he received the Absolution of His Lord, we read the Scriptures, we prayed, and He received the Body and Blood of Jesus. He was ready and well prepared. And so Thursday night was not the end, but just the beginning of life for him. A life now safe and secure in Christ, so a life that will never end.
These last few years had been a struggle for him. I don’t know if life at any age is easy. Each age has its own struggles, doubts, and fears. And old age has its own. St. Paul described drawing near the end of his life as being poured out as a drink offering. It is a striking image. An emptying. But also it is an image of victory. For as Christians, as we are poured out, we are at the same time filled up. Our old life is poured out, so that a new life is poured in. Until finally our old life is swallowed up in death, and a new life raised up in victory.
But such pouring out is not easy. It is a fight. A fight to the finish against our sin and sinful natures, and against the old evil foe, who means deadly woe, whose deep guile and great might are his dread arms in this fight. A fight we are destined to lose, for on earth is not his equal. But for us fights the valiant one, Luther wrote and we sang (LSB #656 vs. 1-2). And because of His victorious fight, Paul goes on to say, there is laid up for [us] the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to [us] on that Day . . . to all who have loved his appearing - His appearing first in the flesh, and who are looking forward to His appearing again in glory.
And it is with that confidence that Paul could write: I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. When we think of Paul’s life, we think of all that he did, all his missionary journeys, all he went through, and we marvel. But when Paul thinks about it all, he is grateful above all for this: I have kept the faith. Compared to the other stuff, it sounds so little! But you know it’s not. That’s the struggle above all others. When your body turns against you, when friends turn against you, when it even sometimes seems as if God has turned against you, keeping the faith is not easy. It’s a fight.
As a Lieutenant Colonel in the Army, as a Tank Commander in the 2nd Infantry Division, Roy knew something about fighting. But while he retired from a long career in the military, this fight of faith has no ending in this life. You don’t get to retire from it. The devil keeps attacking, keeps trying to undermine our faith. And in this battle, Roy, too, had experience. When his dear Audra was taken from him far too soon. When friends turned against him. When he had to battle his own sins that rose up within him. He did not win all those battles, just as we don’t. But his Saviour did, and filled Roy with His forgiveness and life. For the Lord had laid up for Roy a crown of righteousness. A crown promised him when he was baptized into Christ, and a promised repeated with every Absolution, every feeding at the Lord’s Table, every Benediction. So that when the pouring out came to an end, it was not the end, but the beginning of a new and full life.
Because when our old life is swallowed up in death, we know there is one who has swallowed up death forever! That’s what Isaiah proclaimed, as we heard tonight. That on Mount Calvary, Jesus swallowed up death by dying and then rising to life again. And on Mount Calvary, Jesus prepared for us that great feast of rich food, well-aged wine, rich food full of marrow, and aged wine well refined. Isaiah describes it in the words of an amazing earthly banquet, but is really describing the heavenly banquet that satisfies our hunger for life. For life in Christ. Life that not even death can take away from us. A banquet that starts here, in this life of hardship, tears, and struggle, but continues forever in that life of victory, rest, and where the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and take away the reproach of his people . . . from all the earth.
I know that is a banquet Roy looked forward to, maybe especially as his ability to swallow here in this life became a struggle. That happens to many older folks. And being no longer to eat your favorite foods must be a great sorrow and sadness, and a difficult part of the pouring out. But thanks be to God, Roy did not lose his ability to eat and drink the feast of His Lord, the Body and Blood of Jesus. He continued to receive that food, forgiveness, and life to the very end. A blessing I hope I, too, receive.
And so we gather tonight, we do not grieve as others do who have no hope. We know that The Strife Is O’er, the Battle Done (LSB #464). We gather tonight to praise our God and Saviour for His great mercy and love toward us, and to thank Him for the blessing that Roy was to us. Roy was the patriarch of our congregation - not only because he was the oldest, but he was a founder of our congregation, and in some ways its foundation in those early years. He found us this building to meet in - I still don’t know how he did! He was the first president of our congregation, and served in that role for many years. I remember walking around the neighborhood with him in those early years, going door-to-door and introducing ourselves. He hosted so many things at his home, from midweek services, to Oktoberfests, to Bible Studies, and a Confessions study group. We even once filled his house with items donated for a community yard sale and completely junked up his first floor! But he didn’t mind. He took shifts in our booth at Viva Vienna. He was faithful in coming here, rarely missing a Sunday, and giving rides to others, too. He made great soup for our Lenten soup suppers. When he moved into an Assisted Living facility, he insisted on treating me to lunch when I visited, after which we’d go up to his room and feast on Jesus. He always made sure to get his beloved Peanut Butter crackers. I could go on and on. And I’m sure many of you have stories of your own. We will miss him.
But besides all that, two things stand out for me about Roy. First, when I called him as the president of the congregation some 23 years ago now to tell him I had accepted the call to serve here as pastor, I could hear the tears in his voice. Tears not for me, but in gratitude that the Lord had sent them a pastor to care for them. And then when Roy’s life had begun to be poured out, but he was still able to come to church, he would struggle to come up to the altar to receive the Lord’s Supper. He had to walk carefully and slow. It would take a while. But it was important to him. And it fills my heart with joy every time I see that - whether an older saint struggling to walk up to the altar, or one of our youngest, still learning to walk, straining to put one foot in front of the other and walk up to the altar. I rejoice not in the struggle, but the faith that is shown.
The same faith, I think, shown by our Lord as He Himself struggled to carry His cross up Mount Calvary. Roy struggling to receive the salvation that Jesus struggled to provide for him there. On the cross, Jesus committed His Spirit into the hands of His Father. And almost two weeks ago now, Roy did the same. And when the Lord returns, so will Roy. And there will be life. Only life.
Roy will be buried at Arlington National Cemetery sometime later this year. You know, I think that would be a good place to be when Jesus comes again on the Last Day. To see all the graves open and joy and life arise in that place of sorrow and death. Joy and life for Roy and Audra, for Michael and Althea, and All the Saints (LSB #677) who died in Christ buried there. What an awesome day that will be.
So in the end, while the Christian faith isn’t so much about living a good life as it is dying a good death, I think Roy got both. And Roy helped us to have both as well. All glory to God, for giving him as a blessing to us. And all glory to God, for the confidence and joy we have tonight, and always, as we await that Last Day, the great and awesome day of the Lord.
In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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