In Memoriam - Carol Samek-McKinlay: "Lasting Words"

+ In Memoriam - Carol Samek-McKinlay - November 30, 2019 +

Luke 2:25-32; John 10:11-16

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

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

A person’s first words are usually a memorable and important experience, and for good reason.  Parents, grandparents, family, and friends recall with joy the first time a child says, “mama”, or “dada”, “Ga, or Gampa”. 

A person’s final words are important as well. In fact, they can tell you a lot about that person. Take St. Paul for example, in his parting words to Timothy. 

 For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure is at hand. ⁷ I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. ⁸ Finally, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me on that Day, and not to me only but also to all who have loved His appearing.

Paul knew what was coming. He knew his departure, his death, was near. And yet Paul gives Timothy, and all who hear his words, a message of comfort in his final words. Great words of faith that reveal the greater faithfulness of our Lord Jesus. In the midst of death, Jesus is his life, and ours, just as he is Carol’s life. And our life, just as it was for St. Paul, is entirely wrapped up in Jesus’ life because of his dying and rising for us.

Or consider another man early on in Luke’s Gospel named Simeon. St. Luke says he “was just and devout, waiting for the Consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ.” 

And then one day, Mary and Joseph brought Jesus into the temple. Simeon saw God’s promise with his own eyes, and held God’s faithfulness in his own hands. Much like we and Carol and God’s baptized children see and receive God’s promises here in the Lord’s holy house. And seeing all that, Simeon was ready to die.

Lord, now You are letting Your servant depart in peace, According to Your word; For my eyes have seen Your salvation Which You have prepared before the face of all peoples A light to bring revelation to the Gentiles, And the glory of Your people Israel.”

Simeon’s last words were ones of hope, consolation, and peace in Jesus.

Or perhaps you recall Jesus’ last words on the cross: It is finished. His work of redeeming, rescuing, and saving was done. Complete. Fulfilled. He had finished the race, accomplished his goal, carrying Carol, you, and me across the finish line on his back and his outstretched, crucified arms. Jesus’ last words on the cross give us comfort, consolation, and confidence, even in death.

This is also the confidence that our Lord gave his dearly beloved, baptized child Carol, throughout her earthly life, and in her last days. As I met with Rick and Cheryl they recalled for me some of Carol’s last words. “Lord, I’m ready to die now, please”, she said. 

Some may hear those words and be saddened or grieved. But those are words of joy, not sadness, hope, not despair, confidence in Christ’s power over death, comfort in his gift of eternal life; and consolation in Jesus’ death and resurrection, which we, and Carol, and all the faithful in Christ share in by his grace. 

Carol’s last words remind me a great deal of Paul’s words of confidence in Jesus, and of Simeon’s words of trust in God’s promises. They are words that point us, who mourn to the One who gave Carol such great faith, countless earthly blessings, so many beloved family and friends. Carol’s words point us to Jesus.

For Jesus, too, was ready to die - from the moment he drew his first earthly breath to time when he breathed out his last on the cross, indeed Scripture says even from all eternity, Jesus was ready to die, for Carol, for you, for me.

Jesus our Good Shepherd was ready to lay down his life for us wayward sheep. As our Lord says in John’s Gospel: 

“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd gives His life for the sheep.

From our first words to our last words, Jesus words bring us comfort, as they did for Carol throughout her earthly life and in her last hours. Words of promise that we cling to like Simeon, St. Paul, and Carol - the sure and certain word that promises resurrection of our mortal bodies to life immortal and everlasting. Words of life that Jesus delivers to us from the cross to the font, the altar, in his Word - words that will raise us from the dead as easily as Jesus raised up Lazarus from his grave. Words of hope and joy that will fill our hearts, minds, ears, and mouths, not only in this life, but for all eternity. As we join Carol and all the faithful  departed in singing praises to the Lamb who was slain and yet lives, the Shepherd who laid down his life for Carol and for you.

Today, when words might be difficult to say because of grief or sadness. Fear not. Jesus our Good Shepherd has plenty of words - eternal unending words - and promises to fill your ears, hearts, minds, and mouths with today, and always. He did that for Carol. And he’ll do that for you too. For you, and for Carol, Jesus has the first and the last, and the abiding word.

I am the good shepherd; and I know My sheep, and am known by My own. As the Father knows Me, even so I know the Father; and I lay down My life for the sheep. 

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

Sermon for Thanksgiving Day: "The Lord Remembers"

+ Day of Thanksgiving – November 28^th, 2019 +

Deuteronomy 8:1-10; Philippians 4:6-20; Luke 17:11-19

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

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

If New Year’s is about making resolutions and the future, Thanksgiving is about remembering and the past. As we sit around the table, pass the stuffing, load up our potatoes with gravy, and reach for our favorite dark or light turkey meat, we remember.

There are the joyful memories: new friends at school; added family members around the table; kindness of friends, family, or complete strangers; simple moments of life, love, and laughter shared with your spouse. Even the ordinary things of daily bread: food, drink, clothing, shoes, house, home, beloved pets and good friends.

Sadly, there are painful memories too: an empty chair or two around the table where grandma or grandma, or mom or dad once sat; words spoken that were better left unsaid; illness in body or mind that just won’t seem to go away or get better.

Thankfully, our Lord gives us memories that are far greater than even our best memories, and far deeper and more comforting than even our most painful memories. These are the memories of God’s mercy and grace. The love of Christ shown to us in simple act of kindness by a friend or a stranger. God’s word of forgiveness shared and reconciliation made with friends or family. Jesus’ daily work of drowning our sin in and raising us to new life in our Baptism. The Holy Spirit who dwells with you and in you and points you to Jesus. Even the simple things ordinary bread and wine where Jesus feeds us an extraordinary feast of forgiveness in his body and blood.

Yes, Thanksgiving is a day of remembering.

This is what Moses is saying to Israel, and to us, in Deuteronomy 8: you shall remember that the Lord your God led you all the way these forty years in the wilderness

Moses reminds Israel who they are, where they came from, and everything the Lord had done for them. Remember, Your garments did not wear out on you, nor did your foot swell these forty years. Remember the Passover lamb whose blood covered your doorpost. Remember how the Lord parted the Red Sea, drowned Pharaoh and his army, and rescued you from slavery in Egypt. Remember the water from the rock, the manna and the quail. Remember the Lord who spoke to you at Sinai, and made his covenant and promise with you. Remember that man shall not live by bread alone; but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of the Lord. And above all, remember the Lord who has done all this for you by his grace. For I am the Lord your God who brought you up out of the land of Egypt, and out of the house of slavery.

Today, God is telling us the same thing through Moses’ words. Remember who you are, where you have come from, and everything the Lord has done for you. Remember how God sent you a prophet greater than Moses – His only begotten Son Jesus – to die and rise for you. Remember how Jesus’ side was split open like the rock, pouring out blood and water into the chalice and the font for you. Remember how he calls you and names you his holy child in water, word, by the Holy Spirit. Remember how Christ our Passover Lamb was sacrificed for us. Remember how he feeds you, a pilgrim and stranger in this land, with his own body and blood, precious manna from heaven. Remember the Lord who does all this for you by his grace.

Thanksgiving is a day of remembering. 

And yet, as good as it is for us to remember, it is far better that God remembers. We may even foolishly think, like Israel did time and time again in the wilderness, that God has forgotten us. Or fear that the Lord won’t provide for us as he promised. Like Israel, we often fail to remember that anything good we have is all God’s doing. We forget.

Not so with the Lord. The Lord never forgets you. Never fails to remember you. He always remembers. Always keeps his promises. Always gives us what we need and more. For God to remember is for God to act. When Scripture says “the Lord remembered Israel, or David, and so forth” it’s not that God was simply thinking nice thoughts about his people. No. more than that. For God to remember is for God to act on behalf of his people. 

Remember that the Lord your God led you all the way these forty years in the wilderness…

For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and springs, that flow out of valleys and hills;  a land of wheat and barley, of vines and fig trees and pomegranates, a land of olive oil and honey;  a land in which you will eat bread without scarcity, in which you will lack nothing; a land whose stones are iron and out of whose hills you can dig copper.  When you have eaten and are full, then you shall bless the Lord your God for the good land which He has given you.

God did not forget Israel, neither will he forget you. The Lord remembered. He acted. He brought Israel into the good land where they settled. Generation after generation, through judges, kings, and prophets, through exile and return, the Lord remembered again and again and again, until that great, glorious day when the Lord who led Israel in the wilderness took on human flesh to save us.

And what’s truly remarkable is that the Lord who knows all, sees all, and remembers all, promises to remember our sin no more. He takes all our forgetfulness of his promises, all our failures to keep his Word, all our sinful and selfish fears, our thoughts, words, and deeds – he takes it all, heaps it on His Son Jesus, who dies on the cross for us, buries it all in his tomb, and rises again. All so that he will remember our sin no more.

God gives and we receive. So we remember the Lord best by receiving his gifts. Jesus’ daily bread on our table, and his: true bread of life come down from heaven to earth to feed you in this wilderness. Jesus’ word, water, and promise to give you an eternal garment that will never wear out in your Baptism. Jesus’ word that will feed you, satisfy you, and give you life.

So as you’re scooping the green bean casserole and hosing down your pumpkin pie with cool whip, remember that Thanksgiving is a day of remembering. God’s redeeming, rescuing, and remembering you in his Son Jesus crucified and risen. 

A blessed Thanksgiving day to each of you…

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

Sermon for the Last Sunday of the Church Year: "Hope in Jesus Crucified"

+ Last Sunday of the Church Year - November 24, 2019 +

Series C: Malachi 3:13-18; Colossians 1:13-20; Luke 23:27-43

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

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

10.9 earthquakes and towering tsunamis. Nuclear winter or World War 3. Alien invaders, a zombie apocalypse, or apes taking over the planet. That’s what we usually hear when people talk about the end of the world. Lots of hype and hysteria. But far too little hope.

We live in a hopeless world: pessimism over politics on every side of the aisle. Despair over illness in our own lives and those of our families and friends. Worries over family members and finances. Doubts about whether or not Jesus is even going to return some day, much less take care of me today.

The antidote, some would say, is simply to be more optimistic. Turn that frown upside down. Don’t worry, be happy. It’ll get better. Hakuna Matata, and so on. 

Reminds me a little bit of the old joke, or some variation of it. The optimist says his beer mug is half full. The pessimist says his beer mug is half empty. The realist says his beer mug needs a refill.

There’s a difference though isn’t there, between optimism and hope, at least when it comes to God’s Word. Optimism isn’t the same thing as hope. Optimism (or pessimism for that matter) is often about how you perceive things. Hope for the Christian, however, is the way things are even if you don’t see them. Take ourselves for example. When we look at ourselves – honestly, through the lens of God’s Word – we join Paul in confessing “oh wretched man that I am, who will deliver me from this body of death. And yet when God the Father looks at us through the cross, he no longer sees me the sinner, but the blood of his Son Jesus crucified for me, and for you. This is why seeing isn’t always believing. But hearing is. Hearing the Word of Christ. That anchor holds. 

Today on this last Sunday of the Church year, Jesus speaks and delivers his sure and certain hope into our hopeless world. Hope anchored in Jesus’ death and resurrection. Hope as we long for Jesus’ glorious return. Hope as we await the resurrection of the dead and the life everlasting. 

When the Scriptures speak of hope, it’s not in the form of wishful thinking or wistful daydreams, but in sure and certain promises. The kind of hope God gave Israel and gives us through the prophet Malachi, “They shall be Mine,” says the Lord of hosts, “On the day that I make them My jewels. And I will spare them As a man spares his own son who serves him.”

The kind of hope God gives us through St. Paul’s words in Colossians 1. He has delivered us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of the Son of His love,  in whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins.

The kind of hope Jesus gives to the criminal on the cross next to him as he is crucified for the life of the world. Then one of the criminals who were hanged blasphemed Him, saying, “If You are the Christ, save Yourself and us.” But the other, answering, rebuked him, saying, “Do you not even fear God, seeing you are under the same condemnation?  And we indeed justly, for we receive the due reward of our deeds; but this Man has done nothing wrong.”  Then he said to Jesus, “Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.” And Jesus said to him, “Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.”

No one in the ancient world would’ve looked at that scene and described it as hopeful. Darkness and thick clouds. Three men suffering the horror and anguish of crucifixion. Beaten. Weary. Dying. And yet, this is the where the thief found true and lasting hope, in Jesus crucified. 

Here’s a man whose life did not merit the Kingdom. He’s utterly hopeless were it not for Jesus. And yet, when Jesus speaks, the thief is born anew to a living hope where all human hope and optimism had perished. 

Hope to a dying thief pinned on a Roman cross for his crimes who cried out: “Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.”. The Lord meets that prayer with a sure answer: “Today, you will be with Me in paradise.”

The same is true of us. When we look at the world around us, when we look at ourselves, we find no hope. We have nothing to cling to. Along with the faithful criminal, we confess that we’re under the same condemnation. For the wages of sin is death.

But here’s the important difference. In Jesus, we do not receive the due rewards of our deeds. We don’t get what we deserve. Just the opposite in fact! In Jesus crucified we get what we don’t deserve. Jesus takes our punishment and we go free. Jesus who knew no sin is made sin for us. Jesus dies our death and we live. Jesus takes all of our depravity, doubt, despair, disease, death – everything that causes us such hopelessness – and he delivers us hope in his death and resurrection. Jesus saves others by not saving Himself. Jesus saves sinners by dying for them. Jesus justifies the ungodly. Jesus saves the unsaveable and redeems the irredeemable.

In the waters of your Baptism, Jesus joins you as surely as he did that thief on the cross – with all the saving power and grace of his dying and rising – and he says to you the same words. Today you will be with me in paradise. In his word of absolution, resounding from the cross and the Last Day to our ears in this very today. Today you are forgiven all your sins. In the Lord’s Supper, we receive Jesus’ body and blood that fill us and feed us with hope in the forgiveness of sins. And that cup is not half empty, or half full, but spilling, running, and flowing over the brim with the faith, hope, and love of Jesus crucified for you.

In the changes and chances of this mortal world, our hearts are fixed where true joy and hope is found. For the criminal on the cross. For you and for me, and for all. The cross of Jesus is where our hope is found.  

On this, the last Sunday of the church year, we live in the hope that prayed earlier in the collect of the day, “Lord Jesus Christ, you reign among us by the preaching of your cross.” In these last days, surrounded so often by pain and pessimism, by sin, suffering, and death, Jesus gives us hope in the midst of death. Hope that our Savior rules not in spite of the cross, but through it. 

The cross of Jesus is where our hope is found.  Today, on the Last Day, and every day until our Lord returns. Amen. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

A blessed Last Sunday of the church year to each of you…

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

Sermon for Pentecost 22: "Un-hypothetically Speaking"

+ 22^nd Sunday after Pentecost – November 10, 2019 +

Series C: Exodus 3:1-15; 2 Thessalonians 2:1-8, 13-17; Luke 20:27-40

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

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

What if? We’ve all heard that question before. “What if I ate all my Halloween candy?” “What if the moon was made of Tillamook extra sharp cheddar?” Parents, grandparents, and teachers from Sunday school to Seminary are familiar with the “what if”, hypothetical question. 

This is what the Sadducees bring to Jesus in Luke 20, a “gotcha”, “what if?” question. It’s important to remember that the Sadducees were the religious aristocrats of Jesus’ day. The elite, upper echelons of society. They controlled the temple and politics in Jerusalem. And being the good storyteller that he is, St. Luke clues us in on the Sadducees’ true theological motivations right from the start.

There came to him some Sadducees, those who deny that there is a resurrection.

The Sadducees denied the resurrection of the body, life after death. They also held to a strict Torah-only authority of Scripture. Only Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy. Everything else was rabbinic rubbish, which is why when the Sadducees weren’t teaming up with the Pharisees against Jesus, they were busy arguing with the Pharisees. 

Here’s the set-up of their hypothetical scenario: they asked Jesus a question, saying, “Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man's brother dies, having a wife but no children, the man must take the widow and raise up offspring for his brother. Being good Sadducees, they quote Deuteronomy 25 on the laws concerning levirate marriage. It was the obligation of a brother to marry his brother’s widow if he has no heirs. It sounds odd to us. But it was connected to the importance of family lineage, offspring, inheritance, and the promised seed, going all the way back to Abraham.

But of course, the Sadducees weren’t really interested in Mosaic Laws on levirate marriage at all. Remember, the Sadducees denied the resurrection. For they didn’t come to Jesus asking out of genuine curiosity. They toss Jesus a hypothetical hand grenade to trip Jesus up, trap him in his words, and dismiss his crazy teachings about the resurrection of the dead. If Sadducees were on Facebook or Twitter today, we’d call them trolls.

So, what do you think, Jesus? There were seven brothers. The first took a wife, and died without children. And the second and the third took her, and likewise all seven left no children and died.  Afterward the woman also died.  In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had her as wife.”

I’m sure the Sadducees thought they were being clever. “If Jesus denies Moses and the Law, marriage, or the resurrection, well then, clearly he’s not the rabbi everyone claims he is. All the more if his teaching on the resurrection sounds absurd.” 

But like a chess master, Jesus is steps ahead of the their game. He moves straight through the absurd question to the unbelieving heart of the questioner. It’s not about marriage or the Law of Moses; it’s about the resurrection, and faith in God’s promise to raise the dead. 

And Jesus said to them, “The sons of this age – that is, people in this life – marry and are given in marriage, but those who are considered worthy (understand Jesus’ words here as declared worthy in by grace through faith in Christ); it is they who attain to that age and to the resurrection from the dead, and there in that life after death, they neither marry nor are given in marriage, for they cannot die anymore, because they are equal to angels and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection. 

Now, this doesn’t mean we become angels, it simply means that like the angels we rise never to die again. That’s the hope and comfort of the resurrection, not that we become bodiless angels, but that by God’s grace, through all the twists and turns, suffering and sorrow of this life, that in Jesus’ death and resurrection we too will be raised up. A glorified new creation, and yet a real, resurrected body. 

It’s hard to underestimate just how remarkable Jesus’ words are. For we live in a world obsessed with death. Either it’s glorified and idolized as our right to choose. Or it’s denied and we idolize ourselves. “YOLO,” you hear people say. “You only live once.” So, do whatever feels good.

This isn’t too different from the Sadducees, really. No resurrection. No life after death. All that matters is now. By exposing the Sadducees’ selfishness and unbelief in God’s promises, Jesus also exposes our sin. That within each of us lives a little Sadducee who clings to the stuff of this world as if this life is all there is; that we live as if I mattered most, and that no one and nothing else matters. 

The Sadducees were right about one thing, however. If the resurrection is just a repetition of this world, then it would be ridiculous. But the resurrection is something completely different. It’s a world without death. Think about that. A world where no one will die. 

Hard to imagine, no doubt. We might even think it absurd at times too. Which is why eternal life, faith, trust in his promise, the resurrection – all of it – it’s all gift from God through Jesus’ death and resurrection for you. 

Jesus makes his checkmate by quoting the Torah, Exodus 3. But that the dead are raised, even Moses showed, in the passage about the bush, where he calls the Lord the God of Abraham and the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob.  Now he is not God of the dead, but of the living, for all live to him.”

God is the God of life. True, God gives laws through Moses to preserve life in this world. But He also gives a promise to Moses about life in another world, a world without end. Notice what Jesus says. Not, “I was their God”, but “I AM” the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Present tense. They are alive to Him as He is to them.

You see, a hypothetical resurrection gives us no hope. For we do not have hypothetical sins, but real ones. Real sin. Real suffering. Real death. For which we have a real Savior from sin in Jesus. A real, historical, reliable and true death resurrection won accomplished for us by Jesus. In a world immersed in death, Jesus brings the promise of life: eternal, never-ending life.

For Jesus is the God of the living: crucified, risen, and living for you. Present with his promises for you as surely as he is with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, and all who live in Christ awaiting the resurrection of the dead. I AM the God who was in the burning bush for Moses. In the cloud and pillar of fire for Israel. In the womb of Mary for you. In human flesh for you. On the cross and in the grave and ascended in the body for you. In the water and Word of your Baptism. In the bread and wine with my body and blood given and shed for you. In my Word and promise, even now today, 

For Jesus is not the God of the dead, but of the living, and you are alive in him.

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

Sermon for Pentecost 23: "The Cross is Steady While the World is Turning"

+ 23^rd Sunday after Pentecost – November 17^th, 2019 +

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

Series C: Malachi 4; 2 Thessalonians 3:1-13; Luke 21:5-28

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

If ever we’ve thought of Jesus as our buddy, homeboy, or BFF, Luke 21 might sound like a jarring subwoofer in our ears. Jesus’ words are a little like the Kool-Aid Man, Wreck-It-Ralph, or Godzilla, where he smash to pieces our silly notions of a docile, cute, cuddly Jesus. As Jesus teaches us and his disciples about the Last Days we live in until his return, we’re reminded that Jesus is not a tame God. 

There will be signs in the sun, in the moon, and in the stars; and on the earth distress of nations, with perplexity, the sea and the waves roaring; men’s hearts failing them from fear and the expectation of those things which are coming on the earth, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. 

Add some shocking pictures, a few gruesome headlines, and some viral videos on YouTube, and Jesus could have just as easily spoken those words in the 21^st century as he did in the 1^st century.

The fact is, all is not right with this world; but one day it will be. That’s what Jesus prepares us for in today’s Gospel reading. The Last Day. The signs are all around us. Wars and rumors of war. Earthquakes. Persecution. Violence. Famine. 

“Come quickly, Lord Jesus,” we pray. We long for our Lord’s return. We look for the new heavens and the new earth. And so we wait, watch, and pray, all the while knowing that our hope is found, not in the rulers of this world – for kings and kingdoms come and go – but in our crucified, risen, and ascended King, whose kingdom has no end. 

This world is fallen, broken, and in need of rescue. That’s exactly why Jesus came and why he will come again. In this world you will have trouble, Jesus said, but fear not I have overcome the world. Jesus came to redeem us from this horrible mess that we’ve made of his creation. And one day Jesus will return to rescue us and make the new heavens and the new earth we long to see. 

And so in the midst of his warnings about the Last Days, Jesus gives us a promise.

When you see these things take place, straighten up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.

In these Last Days, God calls us to live as those who are his baptized beloved children. We live a life no longer controlled by the lusts and compulsions of our sinful nature.

In these Last Days, we stand on holy ground; we eat a holy meal; you are washed with holy water; you hear holy words. The church has faced numerous challenges before, endured far dark days. Christ’s Church has withstood hostile empires, wicked kings, persecution, sword, and martyrdom and yet Jesus promises the gates of hell will not prevail against his bride the Church.

In these Last Days, fix your eyes on Jesus Christ, the author and finisher of our faith, He who is the Light of the World, the Light no darkness can overcome.

Jesus is with you as surely as he was with his disciples, teaching us and preparing us for his return.

See that you are not led astray. For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he!’ and ‘The time is at hand!’ Do not go after them.

Perhaps we’re tempted to join Peter in declaring “Even though they all will fall away; I will not.” And yet we do. All we like sheep have gone astray, each to our own way. Our most dangerous enemies are not political. They’re spiritual. “Devil, world, and flesh, as the catechism teaches us. We’re always looking for someone else to blame for sin in the world or our own. But as Christian author, G.K. Chesterton once said, “What’s wrong with the world? I am.” 

This is why Jesus calls us to deny ourselves, take up the cross, and follow him. For Jesus’ cross is what gives us hope in a fallen world. Hope in the face of the devil’s temptations. Hope in spite of our sinful flesh. Our Christian faith centers on Jesus and him crucified for you. And that means hope, come what may. 

There’s an old saying from the Cistercian monks: Stat crux dum volvitor orbis. The cross is steady while the world is turning. 

So often, our lives in this fallen world feel unsteady, unstable, like they’re one step away, one phone call, doctor’s report, or moment away from coming everything unraveled. The cross is steady while the world is turning. 

We’re baptized into Jesus’ cross and resurrection. We’re forgiven because of Jesus’ cross. We’re fed Jesus’ Body and Blood from the cross to his table. We arise and go to sleep and do everything in between under the sign of the cross. Christianity isn’t so much a way of life as it is a way of death, a daily dying and rising in Jesus. As St. Paul says, we are dead to sin but alive in Christ Jesus, who took up his cross and denied himself for you. The cross is steady while the world is turning. 

To be sure, living under Jesus’ cross, as God’s baptized children, means we’ll stick out in our culture. The disciples and early Christians did. They were persecuted, imprisoned, brought before kings and governors, handed over by family and friends, and many were put to death.

A sobering reminder that these Last Days are days for us to boldly confess our faith; not with the latest fads, trends, and lukewarm platitudes: but with the faith once and for all delivered to the saint: Jesus Crucified for you for the forgiveness of all your sin.

This will be your opportunity to bear witness, Jesus says. Thankfully, we’re not called to convert the culture, but to speak the Gospel with those God places in our lives in our daily callings – our families, friends, or coworkers. One person, one friend, one neighbor at a time.

Jesus promises to be with you as he was with the disciples: I will give you a mouth and wisdom, which none of your adversaries will be able to withstand or contradict. All of this happens when Jesus’ body and blood fills our mouth. When Jesus’ word fills your ears, hearts, and minds. This is the wisdom of the cross: Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. For you.

That’s our hope. Even though Jesus promises, You will be hated by all for my name’s sake.

Yet, not a hair of your head will perish. Oh yes, some of his disciples were crucified, beheaded or fed to the lions, but not a hair on their head will perish. Jesus may not be a tame God, but he is good and gracious. The cross is steady while the world is turning. 

That’s the hidden comfort in these Last Days we live in. For when these things begin to happen, look up and lift up your heads, because your redemption draws near.”

Even so, come quickly, Lord Jesus.

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

Sermon for the Feast of All Saints: "Hope and Tears"

+ Feast of All Saints – November 3, 2019 +

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

Revelation 7:2-17; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12

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

Sometimes we hide them behind sunglasses, or try in vain to wipe them away. Other times we get embarrassed or act tough: “I’m not crying; you’re crying.” Pop musicians, from Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons to Fergie try to convince us that, “Big Girls Don’t Cry.” But the truth is, we all have tears.

Tears of overwhelming joy like Sarah in Genesis, who I imagine laughed till she cried as she held in her hands the gracious, unexpected, promised gift of her son Isaac. 

Too often, though we have tears of loss and longing, like Israel in exile, weeping beside the rivers of Babylon as they remembered Zion.

Tears of guilt or shame, like King David mourning the death of his son and the consequence of his sin.

Tears of pain and anguish, where we join the Psalms in lament: “How long, O Lord?” “How long, O Lord will the cancer spread?” “How long will homes, marriages, friendships remain broken?” “How long will the tempest of anxiety, fear, worry, doubt, and depression cloud my mind?” “How long, O Lord?”

And then there are tears like we experience on All Saints’ Day, as we remember the faithful departed. Tears of grief. Loss. Death. Like our Lord’s tears as he wept at his friend Lazarus’ tomb. We see a familiar sight, hear a sound, or catch a smell, or even sing a beloved hymn – for me, it’s always For All the Saints, and we grieve. Grandparents. Parents. Aunts and uncles. Sisters or brothers. Husband. Wife. Sons, daughters, miscarried children. Close friends.

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, like those who have gone before us this past year: 

Gene Schroeder. Margaret Kittinger. Ellen Ehinger. Phyllis Hunsperger. Carol Giese. Shirley Lueck. Vernon Westmark. Loreen Babbitt.

We grieve and weep, as our Lord did at his friend Lazarus’ tomb. But we do not grieve without hope. For our Lord who knows every hair on our head, also knows our sorrows and comforts us. 

He gave John a comforting vision to share with us. St. John was given to see what is not seen, a kind of sneak peek into the heavenly realms to perceive what no eye has seen and to hear what no ear has heard. What John heard was the number 144,000 – a perfected Israel. Twelve times twelve times a thousand. That’s what John heard.

What John saw was a great multitude that no one could number. People from every nation, tribe, people, and language. Standing before Christ the Lamb, clothed in sun-glare white robes waving palm branches in an eternal feast of tabernacles, a perpetual Palm Sunday, crying out with one voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” And with them angels and elders and the four living creatures who represent the whole created order worshipping God with the perfected seven-fold praise: “Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever. Amen.”

Sounds incredible. Beautiful. Joyful. We long to see what St. John saw instead of what we see around us now. But here’s the comforting thing, everything John saw is yours – now by faith, and one day by sight. And until that Day, everything John saw happens here every Sunday, every Divine Service. We may not see it, but when we kneel at the communion rail, we kneel together with those loved ones who have gone before us. All of us in the faith, whether living or dead, are brought together by Christ around His Supper. Heaven and earth come together in this very spot. Like Jacob, we rest our weary heads here where heaven meets earth. How awesome is this place, this is none other than the house of God and this is the gate of heaven. Jesus, the Lamb is here for you. His body and blood are here for you. We worship with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven. 

Then one of the elders calls out to John: Who are these arrayed in white robes, and from where did they come? Sir, you know.

“These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.”

For John’s hearers, they were fellow believers who died confessing Jesus to be Christ and Lord. Members of the seven congregations of Asia Minor who suffered persecution, hardship, even death for the Name of Jesus. The vision is intended for comfort. They died in great tribulation, but they’re safe. Sheltered by God Himself. Shepherded by the Lamb whose blood cleanses them. Every sadness and sorrow is ended for them. Every tear has been wiped away by the hand of God. We feebly struggle, they in glory shine.

And yet for John’s readers, for those who received this strange letter we call The Revelation”, the time of tribulation continues, as it continues for us today. In China where churches are destroyed and Christians disappear. In India where Naadir’s family was martyred in front of him. In Iran where Christians are imprisoned, tortured, or worse. The tribulation continues.

Jesus knew we would have days like these, days of tears, suffering, and grief. So he gave us John’s Revelation to give us comfort in the midst of suffering, joy in the midst of sadness, hope in the midst of despair, light in the darkness, life in death. It’s comfort for a church under siege, for Christians whose brothers and sisters in Christ are being fed to beasts or set on fire or hacked to pieces for the name of Jesus. It’s comfort for an exiled pastor who can’t be with his people on the Lord’s Day but can only be with them in the Spirit as he prays in the Spirit. It’s comfort for you and me as we see the dark clouds of persecution gathering on the horizon. Will the church survive the years ahead? Will we? Is there hope for tomorrow? For the next day? Jesus’ answer  to us in the vision of the Revelation is a resounding Yeah and Amen! in the conquering Lamb who was slain but lives whose blood as made us to be kings and priests enthroned with Him at the right hand of God.

Life in this great tribulation is not easy. We know tears. And yet, the same Lord, of whom David says, knows our tossing, turning, and every one of our tears (Psalm 56:8), those tears that well up in your eyes and run down your cheeks - tears of grief and mourning, of sorrow and shame, of good-byes and partings, of pain and anguish, of longings and lost loves, of old wounds and new ones – God will wipe every one of those precious tears from your eyes.

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, even in tears, this is your hope; this is your tomorrow and your today in Christ Jesus.

A blessed All Saints’ Day to each of you…

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

Special thanks to Pastor William Cwirla for use of some sermon notes from Higher Things Concordia conference, summer 2019.