Monday, November 4, 2019

Savior of the Stained

Jesu Juva
Revelation 7:9-17
November 3, 2019
All Saints’ Sunday

Dear Saints of Our Savior~

This past week your pastor did something reckless and risky. Some would call it foolish and foolhardy. Others would say that he rolled the dice and took a big-time gamble. You see, this past week your pastor purchased a new, white dress shirt. It wasn’t cheap. How long do you think it will last? How many times will I get to wear it before a drop of ketchup or coffee comes into contact with the fabric? How long will it be before blood or grease or chocolate renders this expensive new shirt unwearable? I give this new shirt six months to live—tops.

The color white is, of course, the most stainable of all colors. And white is also the color for this day—All Saints’ Sunday. On this day we remember the saints who now rest from their labors—all those made holy through faith in Jesus, who are now with Jesus. You have known some of these saints. All Saints’ Day is the church’s Memorial Day. On this day we name our dead before the Lord with tear-filled eyes, but firmly believing what is declared about our dead in the book of Revelation: They are blessed. As our choir so beautifully sang, “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.” And as our hymn of the day expressed it, “We feebly struggle; they in glory shine.”

The book of Revelation tells us about that shining glory. If you’ve spent much time reading the book of Revelation, then you know it can be a tough nut to crack. But the book of Revelation—just like all of Scripture—is breathed out by God and is useful. And Revelation is especially useful for us on this day because it gives us a sneak peek into heaven—because it gives us a glimpse of the glory which the dead in Christ now enjoy forevermore.

In today’s reading from Revelation 7, St. John lays out one detail after another: After this I looked, and behold, 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. The saints in heaven are speaking and singing and worshiping, along with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, praising God and the Lamb—who is Jesus Christ.

But it’s what this heavenly host is wearing that caught my eye: They are wearing white robes. White—the most stainable color. In
case you haven’t noticed, I have some experience with wearing a white robe. And keeping a white robe white is a full-time job. Everything stains it: a drop of wine, a smudge of make-up from one of our huggable members, or worst of all—a drop of blood from my dry, chapped hands. Wearing a white robe is riskier than you might think.

But let’s take this talk about stains to a deeper level. Stained clothing is an unfortunate occurrence, and that’s all. Like spilt milk, there’s no use crying over stained clothing. But there is a different kind of stain which is a crying shame. I’m referring to the stain on our souls which results from our sin. No one can see a stained soul, but you know it’s there. You can feel it. Our idolatries leave a mark. Our adulteries leave a spot. Our lack of love for God and others leaves us impure and unclean. The hurt and the harm that we dish out leaves behind a noticeable area of discoloration. The gossip that we slop around in tarnishes and darkens our souls. Our sin contaminates, corrupts, pollutes and sullies our souls. It’s ironic that the most shameful stains we bear can’t even be seen.

The stains that sin leaves behind are the most stubborn of stains. Good luck getting rid of those stains. You can work and work and scrub and scrub. There’s no such thing as bleach for the soul. You can carry on pretending that those stains aren’t really there; but you’re only fooling yourself. And these stains carry consequences. A stained soul isn’t just a fashion faux pas. A soul stained by sin has the potential to separate you from God—has the potential to keep you on the outside of the pearly gates—which is a dreadful, hellish place to be.

So let’s take another look at those saints who dwell on the inside of the pearly gates—so that we soul-stained sinners might one day join them. Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?” I said to him, “Sir, you know.” And he said to me, “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.

Every white-robed resident of heaven—every saint of our Savior—has come through what is called “the great tribulation.” Because it’s called “the great” tribulation, some are inclined to see that as a reference to the great and intense suffering to be endured by Christians who are still living on earth in the dark days leading up to Judgment Day. That will certainly be a “great tribulation.” But please notice that the elder who speaks is referring to all the white-robed residents of heaven when he declares that these have come out of the great tribulation. In other words, every saint of God in heaven has endured this “great tribulation.”

What is this great tribulation? It’s the battle you wage daily against sin. It is the persecution, the temptation, the suffering, the crosses you carry because you are one redeemed by Christ the crucified. This great tribulation often leaves you with a weary heart, and tear-filled eyes, and yes, inevitably, a sin-stained soul. But rejoice and be glad, because every white-robe-wearing resident of heaven has experienced it. This life can be filled with terrible tribulation—things that are unfair, unjust, and painful. This tribulation is real and unavoidable—as surely as your blood runs red.

This is why we celebrate All Saints’ Day. This is why we take a Spirit-led sneak peek behind the pearly gates every year on the first Sunday in November. Because we need to see how that great multitude gathered around the throne of God has gone through the great tribulation you are now enduring. Only they have come out. They have exited. They are finished with sin and death and tears. Why? How? Based on what? How did they get from here to there—from tribulation to jubilation? Sir, you know. Madame, you know. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.

Of course it sounds ridiculous that something could be made white through blood. In our experience, we know that blood creates stains; it doesn’t remove them. But not so with Jesus, the Lamb of God. For the blood of this red-blooded man was shed in sacrifice for you—for you and every soul-stained sinner. The blood of Jesus removes the stubborn stains that nothing else can erase. The blood of Jesus purifies and cleanses those hard-to-reach stains on the soul. So confess those stains. Repent of what blemishes your soul. Let the blood of Jesus shed on His crucifixion cross do its cleansing work on your soul. Let yourself be whitened and brightened in preparation for that day when you too will leave behind this great tribulation to shine like the sun in the kingdom prepared for you since before time began.

The blood of Jesus is THE stain remover when it comes to the Christian soul. Not even a trace of stain is left behind where the blood of Christ has carried out its cleansing work. His blood can make the foulest clean. And His cleansing blood isn’t something that you have to imagine or pretend. It is real. And we need the real thing because we have real sins. This is why Jesus invites you with these words: “Drink of it all of you. This cup is the New Testament in my blood, which is shed for you, for the forgiveness of sins.” The soul-cleansing, stain-removing blood of Jesus is offered to you this day in the Lord’s Supper. Real blood, for real sins, for real cleansing, and life that lasts forever. Here at this altar your soul is whitened and purified in the blood of the Lamb.

Blessed are you on this All Saints’ Day. Yours is the kingdom of heaven. Remember that as you leave here today. The next time a meatball ricochets off your plate and onto your white shirt—the next time the ketchup squirts its way onto your necktie—the next time you’re stuck trying to scrub out a stain in the laundry room—be comforted as you remember this: The very worst of your sinful stains have been lifted away in the cleansing blood of Jesus. Your time of tribulation is nearly over. Don’t let anyone tell you that white isn’t your color. You look good in white. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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