Sermon for Easter 6: "Another Advocate"

 + 6^th Sunday of Easter – May 10^th, 2026 +

Series A: Acts 17:16-31; 1 Peter 3:13-22; John 14:15-21

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

 

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

 

In the beginning, the Lord declared everything he made to be good. Creation, with its greater and lesser lights, its flora and fauna, its creeping things that creep on the ground. Finally, on the 6^th day of creation, the Lord declared it all that he had made not only good, but very good. There was, however, one thing that was not good in Eden. It was not good for the man to be alone. So God made Eve as a helpmeet and companion and wife for him.

 

From the beginning, where God gave Adam and Eve to each other as husband and wife in the garden, to the marriage supper of the Lamb in Revelation, God’s grace is our constant companion, and in his compassion he creates us to be in communion, in fellowship with him and with one another. 

 

God patterns our earthly lives after his own mysterious, eternal life and being. God himself is an eternal communion: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the eternal three in one. 

 

I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever— the Spirit of truth. 

 

What’s true of Adam and Eve in Eden is true for Jesus’ disciples and for you. It’s not good for us to be alone.

 

For when we’re alone, we are the sheep that stray and wander from our Shepherd. 

We’re Israel in the wilderness, grumbling and complaining and longing to return to slavery in Egypt. We’re Cain living East of Eden, with a heart full of murder and hands stained in blood. 

We’re Israel in the days of the Judges, each of us doing what is right in our own eyes. 

We’re David, full of lies and lust and love of self. We’re the dead, lifeless bones Ezekiel saw decaying in the valley. 

We’re there with the disciples in the upper room. Afraid. Dismayed. Bewildered. Betrayers. Alone. Worried. Sinners in need of rescue. The guilty in need of an advocate. The helpless in need of a Helper. 

 

It is not good for us to be alone in our sin. 

 

So what does our Lord do? For us, he is no fair-weather friend. Jesus is faithful. The friend of sinners. Our advocate. 

 

The Good Shepherd who leaves the 99, pulls us out of the wolf’s jaws, throws us on his back and carries us home. Jesus is our Passover Lamb who was sacrificed to set us free from slavery, sin and the serpent. Jesus is our brother whose blood speaks for us a better word than the blood of Abel – pardon. Forgiveness. His life for our life. Jesus is the one who does what is right in the Father’s eyes for you. Jesus is David’s son and David’s Lord and our faithful King, crowned in thorns and blood and robed in all our lust and lies to save. Jesus breathes his life-giving breath on his disciples, and upon you, raising your from the dead by His life-giving Spirit.

 

What Jesus promises, he gives. What we lack our Lord supplies. The comfort and help we can never seem to find on our own, Jesus delivers. The Holy Spirit, the other advocate we need, Jesus sends.

 

It’s not good for us to be alone. So Jesus sends another Helper. Another Advocate. Defender. Comforter.

 

When Jesus sends his Holy Spirit, splashing into our lives and hearts and minds in Holy Baptism, you are given the holiness you lack. You are given a holiness you did not earn or deserve. That’s what makes God’s work grace. Gift. The Spirit, and fruits of the Spirit and life by the Spirit…freely given to you in Jesus.

 

When Jesus sends us the Holy Spirit, we who were alone in death and darkness and the dungeon of the grave are made and declared to be a new creation by water, word, and the Holy Spirit. The same Spirit who hovered over the waters of the deep in the beginning, makes you a new creation and a new beginning in Jesus. 

 

When Jesus sends us the Holy Spirit, our lifeless, dead, decaying bones are raised from the dust and the ashes. And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and raise you from your graves, O my people. And I will put my Spirit within you, and you shall live

 

Jesus sends his Spirit not only do the work of God for his disciples - comforting them, strengthening them, encouraging them - but He will also do the work of God through them. He will dwell with them and be in them (14:17). The Spirit will lead them to keep the commandments of Jesus. The sacrificial love of Jesus becomes the sacrificial love of His disciples and the world will know God’s people by the love they have for one another and for the world (14:12, 15, and 21; cf. 1 John). “I will not leave you as orphans” Jesus promises. I will come to you.

 

Our Lord knows that it’s not good for us to be alone. So until the day of our Bridegroom’s return and the return of the King and the marriage supper of the Lamb, our Lord sends the Holy Spirit

 

Who points us to Christ.

Who consoles us in the cross and resurrection of Christ.

Who intercedes for us through the blood of Christ.

Who hallows us in the name of Christ.

Who dwells with us and for us and in us filling us with the love of Christ.

Who instructs us in the Scripture of Christ.

Who enlightens us, enlivens us, and encourages us in our daily callings in life in Christ.

 

Jesus sends his Spirit to you still. 

To comfort you in the cross of Jesus. 

To strengthen you in his Word. 

To point you, like a good hunting dog, to the word and water and body and blood where Jesus crucified and risen abides with you and for you. 

 

It’s not good for us to be alone. And in the Father who sends His Son, in the Spirit who proceeds from the Father and the Son to you and in you, you are never alone. 

 

 

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

 

Sermon for Easter 5: "The Way"

 + 5^th Sunday of Easter – May 3^rd, 2026 +

Series A: Acts 6:1-9, 7:2, 51-60; 1 Peter 2:2-10; John 14:1-14

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

When Jesus says, “I AM the Bread of Life,” your nose remembers the smell of a fresh-baked sourdough and you can imagine Jesus’ words.

When Jesus says, “I AM the Vine.” Your tastebuds recall the rich, full-bodied, well-aged wine and you can picture what Jesus is saying.

 

But what about when Jesus says, “I AM the Way, the Truth, and the Life”? How do you imagine that? 

 

One way to understand Jesus as the Way is by walking along the pathway of a good story. 

 

In C.S. Lewis’s book, The Silver Chair, a little girl named Jill Pole finds herself in the magical, imaginative world of Narnia. Early on in this story, she finds herself lost in the lonely, quiet woods of Narnia. Eustace her friend had fallen over a dreadfully tall cliff, and she was all by herself. Afraid. Bewildered. And terribly thirsty from crying. She soon discovers a stream. But there’s a problem. A lion (the great lion, Aslan) stands between her and the water.

“I daren’t come and drink,” said Jill.

“Then you will die of thirst,” said the Lion.

“Oh dear!” said Jill, coming another step nearer. “I suppose I must go and look for another stream then.”

“There is no other stream,” said the Lion.

 

For Jill (and everyone else in these stories), Aslan is the way. And the only way to life is through the Lion.

 

So it is for us, only not in a fairy tale, not a fantasy, but in truth and life and reality: Jesus, the Lion of Judah, is the Way. Jesus, the Good Shepherd, the Door, is also the Way. Truth. Life.

 

There is no other stream. No other road. No detours. No HOV, toll roads, or express lanes. 

 

When it comes to Truth and Life, there is only one way. By the time Jesus says this in Holy Week, he has already told his disciples time and again exactly what his way is and where his way is headed and what it means that he is the Way. 

 

His road and journey leads straight ahead to Jerusalem. To the place of the skull. To the cross. To his bloody death, to his becoming sin on a cursed tree. This is the way of Jesus. The way of his disciples.

 

And yet, Thomas and the disciples don’t understand this yet. They will, but not until his cross and resurrection shed light on the path. Jesus’ disciples think it’s a one way trip into Jerusalem. Jesus will be killed and that’s it. End of the road. Dead end. “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” 

 

This is the way it is for sinners apart from Jesus. Thomas and the disciples aren’t alone. We’re right there with them. Confused. Bewildered. Scratching our heads. Lost and wandering in our own thoughts. Apart from Jesus and his dying and rising, the way, the path, the road to God is not only closed, it’s impossible to find. 

 

Apart from Jesus, our Old Adam is a drunkard wobbling down the hallway, staggering from one wall to the other. Separated. Lost. Estranged. Cut off. And the worst thing to do when you’re lost is to try and find your own way out. But that’s exactly what we love to do.

 

Our Old Adam thinks himself a master architect, an award winning engineer, always building new roads to God, creating endless detours around God’s ways, laying tracks in every wrong direction. 

 

We build our own towers of babel. We stoke the forges hot for our golden calves. We’re constantly turning back to Sodom and Gomorrah. 

 

If we’re to be rescued, God must accomplish it.

If we’re to be set free from slavery, God’s truth must ring forth in our ears.

If we’re to be delivered from death, God must give life. 

 

And he does. He promises.

For we who are lost, Jesus goes the way of the cross.

For we who are lost in lies, Jesus is the Truth enfleshed. His word of truth sets you free.

For we who are lost in death, Jesus lays down his life raise you out of dust and ashes.

 

There is no other stream. No other way. For no other way saves. In Jesus the Way, in his dying and rising, here is Truth and Life.

 

Jesus goes the way of the cross for you. Jesus goes to Jerusalem, not on a dead end, road to nowhere, but a round trip, up on the cross, down into the grave, and out alive again. Do not be afraid. Let not your hearts be troubled. Jesus carries you along his way.

 

When we find ourselves sitting with Thomas and the disciples in fear, uncertainty, and confusion, Jesus leads you this way. Jesus carries us along the way, as he makes the way for us upon the tree, into the earth, and out of the grave again.

 

When we find ourselves standing alone in the woods with Jill Pole, lost, alone in our sin, and dying of thirst, Jesus the Lion of Judah stands between us and the water and says. “There is no other stream.”

 

Come on in, the water is fine. Drink deeply. Draw from the well of salvation. Swim in the rivers of redemption. 

 

Jesus knows you’re dying of thirst, so he quenches it with the cup of his own blood. He knows your starving for salvation, so he feeds you his own body in the bread. 

 

I AM the Way, and I have found you; you are mine. I AM the Truth, and I set you free. I AM the Life, and I have conquered the dragon and the grave for you.

 

 

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

Sermon for Easter 4: "Jesus is the Door"

 + 4^th Sunday of Easter – April 26^th, 2026 +

Series A: Acts 2:42-47; 1 Peter 2:19-25; John 10:1-10

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

Life is full of doors. Front doors. Back doors. Sliding doors. Garage doors. Car doors. Little cat and dog doors. Sliding and swooshing doors that make you feel like you’re a Jedi or a wizard. Round doors that lead to holes in the ground. Wardrobe doors that lead you into a new, undiscovered country. 

 

Most doors in life serve an ordinary, yet noble purpose. An entryway. A portal. A sentry. A defense against the wolf outside. A fortress for those inside. A warden against wind and weather.

 

Life is full of doors. Then Jesus comes along in John 10 and says that he is door full of life for you. He is greater than any other door. He is the door that gives all other doors their door-ness. 

 

“Truly, truly, I say to you, I AM the door of the sheep.

 

Jesus speaks a living metaphor. Alive, having put the lid on the coffin of sin, death, and Satan. Alive in the light radiating from the open door of his empty tomb. It’s not that he’s like a door. Resembles a door. Or represents a door.

 

Jesus is the gate. 

 

“Truly, truly, I say to you, I AM the door of the sheep.

 

Jesus draws upon other doorways in his divine drama. Jesus’ words trace and then fill in with greater color and clarity the promises God has been making all along.

 

Jesus is the promised Son, born of a woman, who has come ordering the cherubim at the gates of Eden to stand down. Paradise is opened in Him, his promise and passion.

 

Jesus is the door of Noah’s ark, which kept the water from the gates of the deep and the vault of the heavens at bay, and is now flung wide open after the flood into the new creation.

 

Jesus is one who opened Jacob’s eyes to see angels ascending and descending around the Son of God as He repeated the promise of Abraham to Jacob. “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.”

 

Jesus wounds bring us rescue and redemption, deliverance, and a doorway. His pierced hands are the portal, his wounds the wardrobe that opens up into the new creation, the good pastures of his grace and peace. Jesus’ resurrection from the grave is the guarantee and down-payment that our death is but a doorway he leads us through to himself.

 

“Truly, truly, I say to you, I AM the door of the sheep.

 

This is what the Pharisees and religious leaders in his day, and in John 10, failed to understand.

Not only did they lack faith in Jesus. But they lacked a liturgical imagination that comes with faith in Christ.

Jesus isn’t teaching us about architecture or agriculture. Jesus is speaking liturgically. Sacrificially.

 

The way into the temple, into the Father’s presence, into the atonement, into the blood of the Lamb which marks the doorposts is Jesus. Jesus is the door for you. And he leads you to the Father through his sacrifice on the cross. 

 

I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture. 

 

Jesus is the gateway to the temple. And he is the temple. And the sacrifice. The Shepherd King and the who calls, gathers, leads you out of sin, through himself, into his good pasture. 

Peter says it this way: He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed.  For you were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.

Jesus is the gate, the door. The entryway to God’s peace and presence. By wood and blood and nails and spear he leads you into the sheepfold, the temple, the church, the people of God, the flock of the Good Shepherd. There are no other doors. No holes in the wall we can squeeze through on our own. 

 

Try as they will, the Pharisees cannot enter through their own righteousness, rule-keeping, or law-abiding ways. Neither can we. 

 

Jesus calls them thieves, robbers. Wolves in sheep’s clothing. False shepherds. The pharisees only wanted to take. Jesus came to give his life. They steal. He offers his life freely. They kill by their lack of faith and false hopes, false teaching. Jesus’ word is life. They destroy and only offer death. Jesus brings life. Life in abundance. Life eternal. Life in Him who is the door. Life for you.

 

Jesus is the Door. And Jesus is your Door. Your Gate. The Shepherd who leads you in and out through him. The same doorway he opened in that watery portal of your baptism. Jesus is, and always shall be your door. Your entryway to the fields of salvation. Jesus is your defense against the prowling wolf. Your safe haven is in his wounds. 

 

I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture. 

 

Here he brings us the good grazing on his grace. Here he prepares a table for us that defeats our enemies of sin and death and Satan. Here his cup overflows with goodness and mercy for you. Here, Jesus the Door, opens the way of everlasting life, and salvation for you.

 

Here, in His house, is where Jesus the Door opens the way of life and throws the gates of his grace and kingdom wide open. 

 

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. But I came that you may have life and have it abundantly. 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sermon for Easter 3: "Scriptures and Supper"

 + 3^rd Sunday of Easter – April 19^th, 2026 +

Series A: Acts 2:14, 36-41; 1 Peter 1:17-25; Luke 24:13-35

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

Where’s Jesus?

 

The women have been to the tomb.

The stone’s been rolled away. 

The burial cloths are folded

The angels have announced the good news.

Christ is risen from the dead. He is not here in the tomb. It’s empty.

 

But the biggest question of all has yet to be answered. 

 

Where’s Jesus?

 

Being the good story teller that he is, the good historian, Luke the Evangelist delays the answer to this question.

 

He waits. He holds his cards close to his tunic. He builds the anticipation. Heightens the divine drama. There’s a sacred suspense hanging in the air.

 

The women tell the 11 disciples. Peter runs to the tomb. He’s still catching his breath. And wondering…where’s Jesus?

 

But still no answer.

 

Luke shifts the scene. Two disciples on the road to Emmaus will finally get the answer to the Easter question.

 

Where’s Jesus?

 

Unbeknownst to the Emmaus disciples, Jesus is right there with them on the road. He’s followed them out of Jerusalem. Chased them down to catch them mid-conversation. Jesus keeps them from recognizing him. It’s not time yet. Jesus also waits. Holds. Delays. Walks and talks with them until just the right moment.

 

Jesus finds his disciples deep in conversation. But even deeper in despair. Shrouded in darkness of disbelief. We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. It’s been the third day since all these things happened. 

 

These have to be among some of the most despair-filled, disillusioned, hope-dashed words in Scriptures. We had hoped. 

 

So many questions. So many rumors flying around. The women’s amazing report. Where’s the body? Why was the stone rolled away? How is his tomb empty? And angels announcing that he’s alive? Peter even went into the tomb and found it just as they said.

 

There’s a shred, a flicker, a glimmer of hope, but still the question remains. Where’s Jesus?

 

“O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken!  Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?”

 

Jesus – still unknown and hidden to his disciples – offers a gentle rebuke, but more than that, a promise. His promise. His word. His prophets who prepared his way. 

 

Beginning with Moses and all the prophets. Not just one or two of the big ones – Isaiah and Jeremiah. But all of them. Obadiah. Habakkuk. He interpreted the Scriptures concerning himself.

 

Here is sacred Son Eve expected to bear and he has born all our sins.

Here is true Sabbath rest that Lamech thought his son Noah would bring.

Here is Abraham’s covenant and promised Seed who dies and rises to bless all nations.

Here is the Lamb of God, the Great High Priest that every priest, and lamb and piece of furniture in and around the tabernacle pointed to, prepared for, and foreshadowed.

Here is the Son of Man Daniel had foretold. Isaiah’s Suffering Servant. David’s Son and Lord. Wisdom incarnate. The One Greater than Solomon. Here is the star that has come out of Jacob. And the scepter that arises out of Israel. The Branch. The Root of Jesse. The Lord of Hosts. And the Lord over death and the grave.

 

Do you see the answer yet?

 

Finally, they arrive at their destination. A village. A home. A table. And at long last an answer to the question.

 

Where’s Jesus?

 

Luke finally tips his hand. Plays all his cards. Lays them all out on the table. 

When he was at table with them, he took the bread… blessed it… and broke it… and gave it to them.

 

Where’s Jesus? Right where he promised to be all along. Where he promises to be for you still.

 

In the Supper. In the bread with his body. In the cup with his blood. In the water with His word and Spirit. In the absolution with his dead-raising, resurrecting declaration: you are forgiven all your sin. 

 

Where is Jesus? You do not need to search your feelings. You don’t need your check list of good works. You won’t be able to think your way into the kingdom.

 

Jesus is exactly where he promises to be. With you. For you. Forgiving you. Feeding you. Finding you by his grace and never letting you go.

 

You need look no further than Jesus in the Scriptures and the Supper. For you.

 

So that when you find yourself shrouded in darkness and despair. When you are in your own upper room, locked in fear, disillusioned and hopes dashed. For all the moments you lament…I had hoped. Even when it seems that Jesus is hidden from your eyes and nowhere to be found.

 

Fear not. Be at peace. Jesus died. Jesus rose again. And he is right where he promises to be for you. In his Scriptures and in his Supper.

 

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

 

Sermon for Easter Sunday: "The Greatest Comeback Ever"

+ The Resurrection of Our Lord – April 5^th, 2026 +

Series A: Jeremiah 31:1-6; Colossians 3:1-4; Matthew 28:1-10

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

Alleluia! Christ is Risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

 

No one thought the 1980 U.S. men’s hockey team had a shot at winning a gold medal. But they did.

No one ever thought Jamaica would have a bobsled team. But they do. 

No one ever expected to see Cinderella at the ball, much less marry the prince. But if the glass slipper fits, well, there she is. 

 

We love a good underdog story. The comeback no one saw coming. Unexpected victory snatched from the jaws of defeat. 

 

The underdogs and comebacks of march madness and the movies are good, inspiring even. And yet sports heroes and superheroes won’t save you. They’re not sent to rescue or deliver. They can’t pay for sin. Conquer death. Open the grave. But these kinds of stories can, and quite often, point to the one who can. Who did. Who has. 

 

Jesus’ resurrection is the greatest comeback, underdog story in history. Good Friday defeat turns into Easter Sunday triumph. Sadness and sorrow become joy and wonder. Mourning is replaced by mirth. Wailing and weeping are wiped away in tears of delight and shouts of deliverance. 

 

That first Easter morning, no one thought Jesus’ tomb would be empty. But it was. Christ is risen!

 

You see, our Lord also loves a good underdog story. Christ Jesus is the ultimate Comeback King. Our Lord has a knack from snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.

 

No one expected aged Abraham and barren to bear a son. And yet God gave them Isaac. 

 

No one expected to ever be released from slavery in Egypt. And yet God sent the plagues. The Passover Lamb. The blood. And death passed over.

 

No one expected to be saved from Pharaoh’s sword or the surf of the Red Sea But YHWH opened up the sea, saved his people and swallowed their enemies. 

 

No one expected Gideon and his three hundred men, armed only with horns and torches, to defeat the Midianites. But they did, because YHWH gave them the victory.

 

No one expected David to defeat Goliath, much less do it with a sling and a stone and a prayer. But the shepherd boy slayed the giant.

 

No one who kept their distance from unclean lepers, or passed by the blind and lame beggars ever thought they would be made clean, receive their sight, or walk again. And yet, they did.

 

No one (except Jesus) thought that Lazarus who was four days in the grave, wrapped in burial clothes and smelling of death would walk out of his tomb alive again. But Jesus gave the command, he did.

 

No one standing at the foot of the cross on Good Friday expected anything but death to be the end of the story. Darkness. Blood. Agony. The bitter cries and mockery. Jesus’ final breath. His body went limp. Carried down from the cross. Stone rolled over the grave. Silence. Darkness. Gloom. Death. Sure this was a loss that no one could come back from, the odds no underdog could overcome. God had lost. God was dead. Sin. Satan. Death. They’d won the day. Dancing and champagne corks popped in hell’s locker room. But only for a moment.

 

No one thought Jesus’ tomb would be empty. But it was. And still is. Christ is risen!

 

Out of the grave stepped Jesus. King of the cross. King of the grave. King of Comebacks.

 

The earth quaked and trembled louder than a Seahawks game at Lumen Field. Our Lord’s angelic announcers gave the play by play. Stone rolled away. There they sat on the rock basking in Jesus’ victory, heralding the good news of the greatest comeback in history. 

 

Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who is crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. 

 

Good Friday was a fight to the death. But Lo, Judah’s Lion wins the strife and reigns o’er death to give us life. The cross which tolls the death bell for Jesus, also trumpets God’s victory.

 

Jesus flipped the tables on hell. Turned the world upside down. Winners lose and the loser wins.

 

God went down into hell and cut down the nets. Tore down the goal posts of the grave. The rafters of heaven shake with Alleluias; the angelic roar is deafening. The foundations of hell are cracked –the enemy is in retreat. Satan is bound and gagged. Sin is ambushed. Death is conquered. For the temple curtain is torn in two. The gates of paradise are unlocked. Noah’s ark has come to rest on Ararat. God has led us through the Red Sea. Canaan is on the horizon. Jordan’s waters are stacked up in a heap. And the gates of the Holy City stand wide open welcoming us to the Lamb’s high feast.

 

For no one expected to hear angels proclaiming glorious, good news, and yet they did. And so do we. 

 

Today we stand at the exit of the tomb. Ash Wednesday is behind us. Resurrection and new creation is before us. 

Today, Abraham’s promised Seed…

Today, the Passover Lamb has been slain, risen from the dead and eaten by his conquering troops. 

Today, all Pharaoh’s hosts have been drowned in the sea.

Today, your Gideon has arisen in victory.

Today, David’s Son has slain the giant.

 

…for Christ has risen, just as he said.

 

A blessed resurrection of our Lord to each of you…

 

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

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

Sermon for Good Friday: "In the Dark"

 + Good Friday – April 3^rd, 2026 +

Isaiah 52:13-53:12; Psalm 22; Hebrews 4:14-16, 5:7-9; John 18-19

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

When it’s the middle of the night and you can’t find your way around your house, your big toe is sure to find the coffee table or a stray chair leg.

 

When the power goes out, even for an hour, you realize how helpless we are in the dark.

 

When you go for a drive or a walk, it’s impossible (and inadvisable) to do so with your eyes closed.

 

When it comes to our daily life, we don’t do well in the dark. How much more so is true in our spiritual life. We don’t do our best in the dark. Just the opposite. We do our worst in the darkness.

 

No wonder Scripture, time and again, compares our sin and death to the darkness. 

 

We’re right there with Adam and Eve, in the shade of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, trying to cover our guilt and shame and the shadow of death with fig leaves.

 

We’re right there with Israel on the dark side of Mt. Sinai setting up our own idols to fear, love, and trust in, when the road grows deep and dark on the horizon.

 

We’re right there alongside Israel in the days of the judges, everyone doing what is right in our own eyes, each of us blind to our own folly.

 

We’re right there with David, coveting Bathsheba and sneaking her into his home at night while sending her husband off to die.

 

We’re right there with Jonah, in the depths of the sea, in the deep, dark abyss of our rebellion against God.

 

We’re right there with the people of Israel in Isaiah’s day, imprisoned in death and darkness of idolatry and exile. On our best days we’re faintly burning wicks. And on our worst, our sinful hearts and mouths are a minefield of deep, yawning, cavernous open graves.

 

In the darkness, we stumble and fumble. Gripe and grope in the dark. Sitting in darkness for too long leaves you feeling lost. Helpless. Alone. Blind. In the dark we are full of dark deeds; we are selfish, self-serving, self-righteous, lying, sneaking, hiding, gluttonous, greedy, murderous and adulterous and covetous. In the darkness of Good Friday all our darkness of sin is revealed for what it is: death. The death of Jesus. The death of the Son of God.

 

But here’s the difference. And it’s the difference of night and day. Death and life. The grave and the empty tomb. Our works and God’s works. Dark and Light.

 

While we do our worst deeds in the dark, our Lord does his best saving and delivering work in the dark.

 

In the shadows of paradise lost, God promises a Son and Savior and a Serpent-Stomper.

 

Out of the abyss of the deep flood waters, God brings forth a new creation. Sets his bow in the sky as a promise never again to flood all creation.

 

Up in the night sky the Lord beckons Abraham to look and behold the stars. Number them if you can. So shall your offspring be, in the blessed Seed of Abraham.

 

On the night of Israel’s exodus from Egypt, the Lord spared his people from death and darkness by the blood of the Lamb.

 

In the thunder and quaking and clouds of thick darkness on Mt. Sinai the Lord sends Moses as a mediator, and promises a prophet like him, only better. One who is Mercy incarnate. Not only a Law-giver, but the Law-keeper. Law-fulfiller. Jesus the Mediator and our Great High Priest.

 

In the dark days of the Judges, the Lord delivers in the dark. Gideon and his 300 unarmed soldiers win the victory because YHWH fights for them in the night.

 

From David’s line comes the perfect, holy, and righteous King, David’s Son and David’s Lord, who is crowned in thorns and robed in mockery and enthroned on the cross to save you.

 

Out of the dark belly of the great fish, the Lord delivers Jonah after three days in the heart of the sea, pointing to Jesus, our Greater Jonah who spends three days and nights in the belly of the earth before rising again.

 

Our Lord brought his people back from their darkness and wandering in exile. A down payment of the greater exile and return Jesus accomplishes on the cross, through the grave, and out again in his resurrection. 

 

Jesus was born in the darkness of Bethlehem for you.

 

Jesus slept under the stars of night, and walked from town to town in the dark for you. 

 

Jesus made his way to Jerusalem with the clouds of Good Friday on the horizon for you.

 

On the night he was betrayed in the darkness of the garden, he took bread and broke it and gives it to you still. This is my body. He took a cup of wine. Pour it out for you still. This is my blood. Blood of the Lamb. Shed for you.

 

In Gethsemane, Jesus prayed in the dark for you. Jesus was betrayed, tried, mocked, and sentenced to death, in the dark, for you. 

 

On the cross, in the thick clouds of darkness, Jesus cried out, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? And he did this for you.

 

From noon to three, Jesus bore our the darkness of our sin and death as he hung in darkness. Then his disciples laid his body in the deep, dark dungeon of the grave. The sun set. The stone was in place. Jesus rested in the dark. Friday came and went. Saturday passed too. Sunday morning finally came. 

 

But remember. God does his best work in the dark. And there, in the darkness of dawn. Just before daybreak. Before the light cracks the lid open on the eastern skies, our Lord cracked open the seal of the grave. Darkness cast out by the Light of the world. Death defeated by the Lord of Life. Sin, sorrow, and the shadow of death dispelled in resurrected glory. 

 

So whenever you find yourself sitting, weeping, mourning, living in darkness, even when you’re resting in your own grave. Remember this: On Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday, Jesus does his best work for you in the darkness. 

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