Jesu Juva
Matt. 5:3, Rev. 14:13
November 6, 2022
All Saints’ Sunday
Dear saints of our Savior~
It’s All Saints’ Sunday—that day on the Christian calendar when we name our dead before the Lord, and give Him thanks for all the saints who from their
But the thing about these saints is that they were also sinners. They didn’t always talk and act in saintly ways. At the funeral home all you ever hear are things like: He was always such a good man. She was always so nice and kind. He never had a bad word to say about anybody. Her smile lit up the room. But the thing is—it’s not true—not altogether accurate. But on All Saints’ Day we don’t have to pretend that the saints we remember were always saintly. Nor do we have to pretend that they were perfect. They may have disappointed us at times. They may have been difficult to live with at times. We don’t have to pretend otherwise. We can face the facts.
We can accept the truth about ourselves and our fellow saints because we accept the truth about Jesus. We can face the facts about the death of loved ones because we have faced the facts about the death of Jesus on Calvary. Jesus was different. Jesus was, in fact, always a good man. He was a good man who died between two bad men. Jesus was executed along with two evil-doers, but His death was far worse than theirs. Jesus’ death was more than just physical death—the death of no more heartbeats or brainwaves. Jesus’ death was the ultimate death—the death of being forsaken by God, abandoned by God, and rejected by God.
That death was for you—for all the saints . . . and for all the sinners. Jesus endured it as your sacred substitute. His death was the bloody payment for all of your sins—for all of your unsaintly living and thinking and speaking. You see, it’s only in seeing the death of Jesus rightly that we can see the death of His saints rightly. Those saints we each remember today—they weren’t perfect. In fact, they were poor, miserable sinners. But in Jesus—through faith in Jesus—they are forgiven. They have come out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
So I hope you will join me in this dying wish. I hope that you view your funeral the way I view mine: Because I don’t want anyone saying, “He was always such a nice man.” Don’t call me nice or kind or faithful. Don’t eulogize me and make me out to be something I’m not. Let the preacher simply say, “He was a sinner redeemed and loved by Christ the crucified.” Or, at least have the decency to say, “He was blessed.”
Call me “blessed” because that’s what Jesus calls His saints—over and over again. We hear it clearly in today’s Holy Gospel: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” In these beatitudes Jesus gives us a glimpse—a snapshot—of what the lives of His earthly saints look like. They are poor in spirit. They mourn, they are meek, they hunger and thirst for righteousness, they are peacemakers, they are persecuted. Blessed are you, dear baptized believer, when others revile you, make fun of you, kick you, exclude you, insult you, and slander you because you bear the name of Christ.
You are blessed, are you not? Or, are you not blessed? Most of us would probably say, “Yes, I am blessed.” Some folks will literally hang signs in their homes or by their front doors that say, “Blessed.” “Blessed” is also a popular hashtag on social media: Great weekend at the lake cabin, brats on the grill, golden sunset, #blessed. OR, Junior just accepted at his top 3 college picks, scholarships abound, #blessed. OR, Enjoying a weekend get away with my besties, wine flowing, friends forever, #blessed. Those are all things to be thankful for. You can even call them “blessings” if you want. But they have little to do with what it means to be “blessed” by God. To be blessed in Jesus is much different than the world’s idea of being blessed.
For God’s way of blessing is more often upside down, inside out, backwards, and hidden. God doesn’t always bless quite so blatantly. In God’s book, to be “blessed” is to be poor—poor in spirit. God’s blessedness is defined by what you don’t have, by what you lack, by your own personal poverty and emptiness. The poor in spirit—the saints of God—are beggars when you get right down to it. They don’t say, “I thank Thee, God, that I am not as other men.” But in their emptiness they pray, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” And to that prayer our God cannot help but respond, “Blessed are you.”
Today’s gospel reading is full of these beatitudes—ultimately statements that describe Jesus and who we are in Him. But there’s one additional beatitude you need to hear—the clincher—the best of all the beatitudes—from the book of Revelation: “And I heard a voice from heaven saying, ‘Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.’ ‘Blessed indeed,’ says the Spirit, ‘that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow them’” (Rev. 14:13). Did you catch that? Blessed are the dead. But not simply any dead, because all indeed do die. But blessed are the dead who die in the Lord. For the Lord Jesus has traveled that path ahead of them. Jesus has already gone to death and the grave, and those who follow Him, trusting Him, are called “blessed” in their death.
Death is the wages of sin. Death is the tragic, intrinsic consequence of sin. We die because we sin. And there is nothing—nothing!—“blessed” about death in and of itself. Death is the last enemy. But Jesus has done something remarkable with death. He Himself has taken death—our worst enemy—the thing we fear and dread the most—and He has made it a source of blessing. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on. “From now on” refers to the times following Jesus’ death and resurrection—the last days, the end times in which you and I now live. Christ has conquered. Christ has become death’s undoing.
But wait, there’s more! The dead are blessed in the Lord, but that’s not all. Their work is done . . . but their works are not forgotten. Last week, on Reformation Sunday, we were reminded that our works do not save us. But for those who are blessed, their works do matter. Their deeds do follow them. Hear that correctly: the deeds of the blessed dead “follow them,” as in, “come after them.” Their works don’t precede them, as though they needed their works to get into heaven. That would not be the way of the poor in spirit. Instead, their deeds follow them.
Better yet, let’s put this in the second person singular: YOUR deeds will follow YOU. Your good works will follow you like the long train of a bride in her wedding dress. All the works that God has done through you, all the fruit the Holy Spirit has produced in you, all your self-sacrifice, all your self-giving, all the peace you have made, and all the mercy you have shown. All the wonderfully good things that Jesus has worked in you as a fruitful branch joined to Him—those deeds will follow you in all their shining splendor. Remember that the next time you are tempted to say, “My good works don’t matter.”
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.” Blessed are you! By now you know that God’s blessedness doesn’t equate happiness or a life free from pain, trouble or tears. But to be blessed means that the God who loves you will place into your empty hands everything that you need: a way out of every temptation, strength to bear every cross, absolution for every sin, and a crown of glory that will not fade away.
So happy All Saints’ Sunday. Rejoice and be glad. Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on. Blessed are you.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment