Sermon: A history of kingship (November 26, 2023)

Christ the King (A)
November 26, 2023
Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24

INTRODUCTION

Today is the final Sunday of the liturgical year: Christ the King Sunday! Even as our hearts and minds have turned this weekend toward Advent and Christmas and Christ’s first coming, we take this day to remember also that Christ will come again, and reign over and judge all the earth. 

That judgment piece isn’t such a warm fuzzy image, but it is couched today in another, nicer image: that of Christ the King as a shepherd. We’ll see this especially in Ezekiel and Matthew. Matthew’s parable is the culmination of his end-times teaching, and in fact is the very last teaching of Jesus before his passion begins. This is a famous one, frequently quoted by those advocating for care of those in need, “the least of these” as Jesus calls them. In short, he tells` us to see Christ in the face of the one in need. 

Ezekiel has some lovely moments all by itself, but it much richer with a fuller context, so that is actually where my sermon will go today. Before you hear it though, a few things to know: First, Ezekiel offers this right after he has learned that the Jerusalem Temple has fallen, and everyone will be deported to Babylon (where he has already been sent, during the first wave of deportations). After losing everything, he assures them of God’s care, as a shepherd cares for their flock. Second, you should know that “shepherd” was a common way to refer to kings in the ancient Near East, and Israel had had quite a few bad shepherds over the past few centuries. Third, it will hopefully be clear that Jesus is pulling from the imagery in this passage in the parable about the sheep and goats: Ezekiel says that God will judge between the rich, fat sheep who bullied and butted the weaker sheep, and the weak sheep who were exploited. In Matthew, this becomes judgment between sheep and goats, but, same idea.

Calling Christ “the King” is a political statement. As you listen, consider how it looks when our leaders today act as shepherds, caring for the sheep, or when they don’t. Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Israel had a, uh, complicated relationship with the idea of kingship. 

This week in our Bible Huddles, we got to read the beginning of that relationship, how they got started with kings. Israel was a fairly new nation, and at that point (around 1400 BC) they had no central government. God wanted it that way; they did not need a king, because God was their king! God was rightly concerned that if they had an earthly king, then their loyalties would be split, and they would start to trust that earthly ruler more than they trusted God. But the people really, really wanted a king. “All the other nations have one,” they whined. “We want a king like the other nations!” Finally, God gave in – but not before warning them that they would regret this.

Along came Saul, who went out one day to collect his father’s donkeys who had strayed and came back a king (pretty weird day for him). He really looked the part of a king – handsome, and quite tall, which was apparently reason enough to make him king! He won a lot of battles for Israel, but soon enough he got too big for his britches, and thought he knew better than God. Eventually David, a shepherd boy (who was decidedly not tall, especially compared to some!), was selected as the next king, and in response, Saul was basically driven into madness, and ended up dying a gruesome death. 

Now David – he was a pretty good king. As a plucky kid, he defeated a giant armed with only a slingshot and his trust in the Lord. And his trust seldom wavered. He was a strong leader, who united the tribes of Israel into one kingdom, and made Jerusalem the capital. Finally, they were a real kingdom! But even David was human, and famously found himself on a commandment-breaking spree that was spurred by catching sight from his roof of the beautiful Bathsheba bathing. He wanted her for himself, and… well, long story short, he committed adultery with her and had her husband killed to cover it up. (Whoopsies!) Still, sin and all, David was the gold standard, and God promised that from David’s house, his line, would come another messianic leader who would bring God’s blessing to the whole world. (Looking forward toward Christmas – remember how Joseph, Jesus’ earthly dad, is from the house of David, from David’s line? Eh? See what they did there?)

Now, David’s son Solomon started off okay. He was known for his wisdom and for building the Temple. But he was also known for his love of the foreign ladies, and for bringing their foreign gods into Israel’s religious life. Hello, 1st commandment! And, well, another long story short, he ran Israel into the ground. David’s united kingdom split into the northern kingdom of Israel, and the southern kingdom of Judah, where Jerusalem and the Temple were located. (By the way, if you want to know what happens in all these gaps I’m leaving, you can curl up in front of your Christmas tree this afternoon with some hot cocoa and the books of 1-2 Samuel and 1-2 Kings. Enjoy! Or, watch these overview videos: 2 Samuel;  1&2 Kings)

What followed this split was a run of bad kings. Literally, the book of Kings is full of chapters that begin, “Then so-and-so began to reign, and did so for X number of years. He did what was evil in the sight of the Lord.” What that means is that these kings didn’t trust God, they were not faithful to the covenant (like, following the 10 commandments), and they didn’t rid Israel of idolatry. Instead, they treated the people with injustice, exploiting the poor for personal gain. 

So God sent prophets to set these bad kings back on the right track, to call them back to faithfulness and justice and adherence to the Torah, the law. This is where our reading from Ezekiel comes in. Ezekiel was a prophet in Judah, the southern kingdom, at the time when Babylon attacked. He was in the first wave of deportations to Babylon, before the Temple that Solomon had built fell. Once he was in Babylon, he began warning the people to buck up or suffer the consequences, until one day he heard what he knew was coming: that the Temple had fallen, and all of Judah would be deported. 

You have to understand how devastating this is. They, God’s chosen people, had lost the land God had promised them. The Temple was the house they had built for God, where God lived – now where was God? They had lost everything, and the sheep, the people of Israel, had scattered, sent into exile. Talk about a reality check. 

This is a good place to talk about an important image used in scripture to talk about kings (so if I lost you in all that history, this is your cue to come back to me now!). In the ancient Near East (not just in Israel!), kings were often called shepherds. The image lifted up two important traits of a ruler: authority, and care and protection. So we have seen that many of the kings in Israel were good on the authority part, but not so good on the care! David had been a shepherd king, who cared for his people better than most, but they longed for another shepherd who would truly care for this flock. 

Back to our story. After Ezekiel learns of the Temple’s demise (in chapter 33), his tone shifts from one of judgment to one of hope. “These kings, these so-called shepherds you have had,” he says, “are anything but. They haven’t fed the sheep, but rather, have benefited off of them! They have eaten the sheep!” Listen to this accusation from just before our reading, which sounds remarkably like the parable we just heard in Matthew: “You have not strengthened the weak, you have not healed the sick, you have not bound up the injured, you have not brought back the strayed, you have not sought the lost.” But, Ezekiel goes on, this – this state of being scattered and wounded and sick and weak and uncared for – this is not where the story ends. “Thus says the Lord God: I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep… I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak….” 

This is what God wanted to do all along for his beloved people: God wanted to be the one and only Sovereign in their lives, a shepherd who would care for the flock, who would guide them in ways of righteousness. God gave them laws to follow, laws that would ensure loving and just treatment of one another. God showed them life-giving ways to live. And eventually, several hundred years later, God did give them a shepherd king from the house of David, who was both earthly and divine: his own son, who would declare himself “the good shepherd” who “came so that [we] may have life, and have it abundantly.” 

Today, on Christ the King Sunday, we celebrate that the ways of our shepherd king are unlike anything an earthly leader can give us, fulfilling God’s hope for a shepherd for His people. Even now, our shepherd comes among us, both in times of rejoicing and in times of suffering, our own and that of our neighbor. He does not come to flank and shoulder us, butting us around, like so many earthly leaders. No, he comes to seek us out and bring us home, to bind up our injuries, and to strengthen us when we are weak. He comes to save us. 

Let us pray… Good Shepherd, we long to be cared for. Help us to trust that you are a shepherd king who will show us the way, tend to our ailments, bring us home, and save us from our enemies. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Watch the full service HERE. 

Photo credit:

Cranach, Lucas, 1515-1586. Christ as the good shepherd, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57054 [retrieved November 27, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Lucas_Cranach_d.J._-_Christus_als_guter_Hirte_(Angermuseum).jpg.

Sermon: God's Extravagant Generosity (Nov. 19, 2023)

Pentecost 25A
November 19, 2023
Matthew 25:14-30

INTRODUCTION

Today we continue our jaunt through the end of the world, and today is rough. Zephaniah offers us this terrifying description of how the last days will look – it’s the sort of text, full of judgment and destruction, that makes you wonder if you really want to say, “thanks be to God” at the end! Texts like this were often drawn upon by New Testament writers in describing the end of the world. 1st Thessalonians offers a bit more hope, saying that while the coming of the Lord will be a dark and terrible time, and one that comes just when we thought we were safe and secure, we need not worry because we are children of the light. Paul implores us to keep living faithfully, always ready for the day of the Lord.

The Gospel continues through chapter 25, which contains three parables about accountability and judgment. Remember that in the overall narrative this is like, Wednesday of Holy Week, just before Jesus will die, so we know that the underlying question in all these parables is, “What will you do and how will you respond when Jesus is no longer here in the flesh?” Last week’s parable, the 10 bridesmaids, told us to be prepared and ready, and this week’s parable of the talents will start describing what being ready might look like. One textual point to keep in mind as you hear this parable of the talents: a “talent” in this case is a sum of money equal to 15-20 years wages for a laborer, so in today’s money 5 talents is equal to, like, $5M. It is intentionally outrageous, hyperbolic, in order to hit home the points Jesus is trying to make. 

Today’s stewardship theme to wrap up our “God’s Extravagance” series is, “God’s extravagant generosity.” This is obvious in the hyperbolic parable, but watch for it in the other readings as well. Where do you see signs of God’s generosity? Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

What would you do if you weren’t afraid?

This is one of two questions I posed to our council this week as a part of our opening devotional. The other was, what would you like to see St. Paul’s do if you weren’t afraid – of running out of money, of losing members, of offending someone, or not having enough people, of having to close our doors. What would you do, if you weren’t afraid?

One person I asked that question to this week said, “That question itself scares me!” And that’s really true! We have a hard time putting aside our fear, practical people that we are. What’s the point of dreaming about something like that, because the reality is, we are afraid, or at least cautious, and for really good reason! We are, after all, animals, and our very nature dictates that self-preservation be at the forefront of our minds. Oh, we might go out on a limb now and then, and some of us are thrill-seekers, but for the most part, we are not going to do anything that we know will hurt us in the end. In fact, we might not even call that being “afraid.” It's simply smart, thoughtful, prudent. 

Maybe that third servant in the parable thought of himself as smart, thoughtful, and prudent. After all, he knew his master to be a “harsh man, reaping where [he] did not sow and gathering where [he] did not scatter.” If he was indeed afraid, as he says he was, I am not at all surprised that he chose not to risk his master’s money. Safest was to squirrel it away, bury it, where he knew nothing would happen to it and he could, finally, return it in full. Still, even if he was afraid, I’m sure he also believed himself to be acting prudently. Truth be told, I’d have probably done the same in this scenario. 

Now, this is just a story. It’s one about money, and money in exorbitant amounts (remember, each talent here is worth about $1 million). But it isn’t only about money. It’s about all the extravagant generosity God entrusts to us – including yes, our money, as well as the abilities and opportunities we have that allow us to earn that money, as well as our other various assets, and the people in our lives, and the experiences, and the food and drink, and the thoughts and feelings we have, and, and, and… All of this that we’ve been given, we can read into this story. But Jesus tells the story as one about money, because it is a language we all speak, and communicates clearly just how valuable all that we have really is. He uses the largest possible sum of money to hit home the point: we have been entrusted with a whole heck of a lot! 

And yet, with all that he has… that third servant remains scared. And again, I get it. Especially if he believes the master to be a harsh man, that is good reason to be extremely cautious. 

But… the first two servants were not scared. They took risks, and it paid off big time – literally! Not only did they double that with which they had been entrusted, but they were applauded and welcomed into the joy of the master. 

I wonder why they weren’t scared, like the third servant? Why they didn’t feel the need to conserve and hide away and stay safe? 

Maybe they just weren’t as prudent as the third servant. Maybe they lacked that animal instinct that warns us away from danger. Maybe they didn’t care if they lost the money – after all, it wasn’t theirs! 

Or maybe… where the third servant saw the master as harsh and greedy, they saw the master differently. Maybe they saw him as gracious and merciful, full of compassion and abounding in steadfast love. Maybe they saw him as extravagantly generous. And so they had no need to fear. Because instead, they trusted. 

The third servant expected a harsh and greedy master, and that is exactly what he got. “You knew, did you,” says the master, “that I was harsh and greedy. Well guess what? You were right.” You see, it isn’t only beauty that is in the eye of the beholder. 

Yet the first and second servants also saw what they expected to see: a generous master who trusted them with an abundant gift, who commended them and welcomed them into his joy. They trusted this master, trusted him enough to take a risk, to act boldly and fearlessly, and as a result, they were welcomed into the joy of their master.

Each year as we return our pledges, our commitments to giving our time, talents and treasures in the coming year, we have a chance to act fearlessly. We can act like the third servant – erring on the side of caution and prudence. Or we can act like the first two servants – responding to God’s extravagant generosity by stepping out in faith, knowing that when we do, we might just end up entering into a joy we had not previously known. Living a generous life does tend to go hand-in-hand with living a joyful life – everyone from Jesus to Oprah to Psychology Today can agree on that! 

As I have been thinking about that question we started with – “what would you do if you weren’t afraid?” – I have started to dream a bit. What if this year, we had more pledges than ever before, that reflected a significant increase in giving? What would we do with that? What if our endowment fund grew dramatically this year, and we were able to give away a ton more money to make our community stronger – where would we give it? Whom could we help? What if our benevolence, the money we give away out of our budget, could increase this year – how could it make the world a better place? I threw out some ideas to the council this week: “What if we paid to refurbish apartments for homeless families in a building Family Promise is hoping to acquire soon? What if we contributed to building more affordable housing units in the city?” Or some more ideas: What if we paid for materials and labor to fix up all the houses used to house refugees through Rochester Refugee Resettlement Services – starting with the Mutombo Family’s home? What if we updated some of the out of date spaces in our building, so that we could invite more community groups to see our space as their space? What if we became a space to meet for a support groups for people living with mental illness or those who love them, or a group of LGBTQ folx who need a safe space, or a theater club, or English as a Second Language tutoring, or children’s birthday parties, or job training, or book clubs? What if… the opportunities are endless! 

So here’s what I want you to do. Take a moment right now, and on the green index card in your bulletin, I want you to dream for a moment. Write down your answer to this question: If you were not afraid – of running out of money, of losing members, of the gossip mill – if you were not afraid, what would you like to see St. Paul’s do? Think big! I’ll give you a minute to write, and then I’ll bring you back with a bell.

…

Our God practices extravagant generosity, giving us far more than 1, 2, or 5 talents. God has given us all of this, and then some. God gave his own self, his own son, precisely so that we need not be afraid anymore – of death, or the power of sin. God has given so extravagantly, so that we can act not out of fear, but out of trust and joy. 

Now… what are we going to do about it?

Let us pray… Extravagant God, you have been exceedingly generous to us, yet sometimes we find ourselves afraid to be generous in return. Grant us courage to step out in faith, to return your generosity with some of our own, so that we might be a part of your mission to share the good news, build a strong community and make the world a better place. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Full service can be viewed HERE.

Sermon: Extravagant Hope in God (November 12, 2023)

Pentecost 24A (Week 3 of stewardship campaign: God's Extravagance)
November 12, 2023
1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

INTRODUCTION

Each year in November, as we prepare for Advent and Christ’s first coming, we hear texts that speak to the Second Coming, the Parousia, or the end-times, or the apocalypse – choose your eschatological language. It’s the time of year when we get to dwell in some of the questions that trouble us the most: what happens when we die? What happens to our loved ones? Does whatever tragedy is current mean that the end times are near? Is Jesus coming soon? Is the rapture real? Will I, or my loved ones, be welcomed into heaven when we die? How will any of this look, anyway? 

Today, two texts in particular speak to these questions: Thessalonians and Matthew. Both of these audiences are in this weird place where they had expected Christ’s return to be imminent… yet they are still waiting (and so are we, now 2000 years later!). This is cause for a lot of anxiety. 

The text from Thessalonians is the first of Paul’s letters that we have, making it the most ancient text in the New Testament, older even than the Gospels, written around the year 50. The particular concern of the Christians in Thessalonica is that their loved ones are dying, and they are afraid that means they will miss out on the glorious return of Christ. So in this letter, Paul speaks pastorally to them, inviting them to encourage one another with the promise of the resurrection. 

The parable from Matthew is… less pastoral. Chapter 25 of Matthew falls at the tail end of Jesus’ ministry; the next chapter will begin the Passion narrative. Chapter 25 delivers three end-times parables in a row, which we’ll hear over the next three weeks. Today’s parable, about the 10 young women, or bridesmaids, urges us to be always ready and prepared, because we don’t know when Jesus might return. I’ll be honest – the stewardship theme this week is hope, and I found a lot more hope in Thessalonians than Matthew, so that’s where I’m going in my sermon. But, troubling as this parable is, there is also much to be gleaned there, and I’d be happy to talk about it with you if you like!  

So yes, hope is the name of the game today. As you listen, listen for words and ideas that you find hopeful, and consider why they are so – and I would love to hear your thoughts (especially if the hope you find is in Matthew!). Let’s listen.

[READ]

The Sinking of the Ville du Havre

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

The year was 1873, and it had been rough couple of years for Horatio Spafford. Spafford had, two years prior, invested all his money in real estate in what is now Lincoln Park, Chicago – right before the Chicago Fire of 1871 destroyed it all. Still, he carried on faithfully. Spafford was an active Presbyterian lay man. He taught Sunday School, worked at the YMCA, and served as a director and trustee for what is now McCormick Presbyterian Seminary. But then, his wife fell ill, and their family doctor advised him, his wife, and their four young daughters, to take a European holiday to help her heal. At the last minute, Spafford could not go, and sent his wife and daughters ahead, planning to join them shortly. On November 22, 1873, their ship, the Ville du Havre, was struck by another ship, and sank in 12 minutes. Upon arriving in Wales, Spafford’s wife sent him a message: “Saved alone.” All four of their daughters had been among the 226 souls lost in the wreck. 

Spafford traveled by boat to meet his wife in Paris. As his ship passed the location where the tragedy had happened, words came to him, and he wrote them down: [Listen here]

    When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

    When sorrows like sea billows roll,

    Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say:

    It is well, it is well with my soul.

Spafford had endured unspeakable tragedy. After this horrific event, he had three more children, one of whom, his only son, died of scarlet fever. His church blamed these grief-stricken parents for their own tragedy, assuming they had done something to bring it about. Eventually, when Spafford refused to believe that babies, like his son, could be consigned to hell, the resulting controversy was so great that his church – which he had built, and of which he was elder, a church that he loved – kicked him out. Still, his faith remained. He and his family moved to Jerusalem in 1881, where they engaged in social services, education, and saving children from starvation and disease. Through this grief, they were carried by those words that came to Spafford as he passed the spot where his four daughters had perished: 

    Lord, hasten the day when our faith shall be sight

    The clouds be rolled back like a scroll,

    The trumpet shall sound and the Lord shall descend;

    Even so, it is well with my soul!

~~~

The year was around A.D. 51, less than 20 years after a man named Jesus had lived, died, and rose again. Paul, Timothy, and Silvanus, teachers and preachers, had planted several church communities around belief in this Jesus, including this one in Thessalonica. The followers of The Way (who would later be called Christians) who lived in Thessalonica were Gentiles – that is, they were not Jewish, but Greek converts. Though they believed in the teachings of Jesus, they were also very formed by their Greek culture, and often persecuted because they did not believe, as was the custom, that Julius Caesar was god, and Tiberius the son of god. No, they believed that Jesus was the son of God. 

Though they persisted in faith, they had begun to grow worried, because they had been under the impression that Jesus would be returning any moment… and he still hadn’t come. Meanwhile, many of them were dying – whether at the hands of the state or of natural causes – and they were very concerned that their loved ones who had died would miss out on the glorious moment of Christ’s triumphant return. You see, the Greek understanding was that once you die, that’s it. You go to the Underworld, and no one ever returned from the Underworld. Oh, there were stories of those who had tried – Orpheus and Eurydice (yur-EE-dih-see), Sisyphus – but none had succeeded. Though they believed in Jesus’ resurrection, it was difficult, given their cultural milieu, to maintain hope.

After a trip to Thessalonica, Timothy reported this concern to Paul. Paul had a special affection for this Thessalonian community of believers, and promptly wrote to them, encouraging them. “I do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters,” he wrote, “about those who have died, so that you do not grieve as others do, who have no hope.” He knew that the Greek belief in an Underworld from which no one returns was indeed one without hope – for they would never again be with those they loved. But this was not the case, he said, for those who died in Christ. “For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again,” he wrote, “even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have died.” Paul goes on to describe what will happen when Jesus returns: that first those who have died will be raised and meet him in the air. Imagine hearing this, having been told all your life that the Underworld is forever, that nothing is more powerful than death. But now, this God is more powerful, powerful enough to raise all of their loved ones from the dead to meet him in the sky. 

And that’s not all. Paul goes on in words that would inspire a man named Horatio Spafford to write a hymn about peace in the midst of immense loss. Listen again to Paul’s words: “For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call and with the sound of God’s trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and so we will be with the Lord forever.” 

    The trumpet shall sound and the Lord shall descend;

    Even so, it is well with my soul!

There is hope, after all. There is hope for an ancient community who had never before been exposed to the possibility that they might be not only be with their loved ones again, but that they would all be together with the God of love, forever. There is hope for a grieving man who has lost all his assets and all his children in two years’ time, to declare that even so, it was well with his soul. There is hope for you, and for me, as we face our own loss, and despair, and discouragement, and uncertainty. There is hope, because whether we live, or whether we die, we are Lord’s, and we will be with the Lord forever.

Therefore, brothers and sisters, encourage one another with these words.

Let us pray… God of hope, when peace like a river attends our way, or when sorrows roll like sea billows… whatever our lot, you have taught us to say: “it is well, it is with my soul.” Grant us the hope we need to endure the trials of this life, so that, even so, we might praise the Lord. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

View the full service HERE.

Sermon: God's Extravagant Promise - All Saints Day (Nov. 5, 2023)

All Saints Day (A)
November 5, 2023
Revelation 7:9-17
Matthew 5:1-12

INTRODUCTION

Happy All Saints Day! By way of introduction today, I want to explain briefly the Lutheran understanding of “saint.” We usually think of a saint as someone who is extra faithful, or a really good person, but Luther says something different. He says that we all become saints when we are baptized – even as we remain sinners. We spend the rest of our lives after baptism striving to live into our saintly nature, to live a life of faith. We never achieve that fully, of course, until we enter into God’s eternal glory in our death, which we celebrate for 15 specific saints today. On All Saints Day, we remember and lift up this tension of being already-and-not-yet saintly, which we will see in our texts today. 

First in Revelation we see what it looks like to be in a state of constantly praising God with all the saints. The Psalm echoes that sentiment, saying that God’s praise will always be on our lips. The epistle reading recalls that we are all children of God – you may recognize that first line because it is what I say after each baptism I’ve ever done – and it reflects on the hope of this children-of-God status. Finally, in Matthew, we will hear the beginning of Jesus’ famous Sermon on the Mount: the Beatitudes, outlining the various sorts of people who are “blessed” – though not all of their circumstances sound especially blessed!

Today’s stewardship theme is “God’s extravagant promise,” so as you listen today, listen for that promise. What hope or future is promised to God’s people, and how does that help us get through the present, whatever that present may be currently delivering? Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from the one who is and who was and who is to come. Amen.

Yesterday, we had a large group gather here to talk about what we called the “long journey home.” That is, we talked about some of the many aspects of preparing to die: practical things, like medical directives, as well as some of the more spiritual and emotional aspects. The part of the workshop that I was in charge of leading was regarding funeral planning. Now, this may seem less important than things like, making sure your family is taken care of financially – after all, a funeral is one day, and seeing to the financial well-being of your most beloved people and organizations can last for generations to come. But the more I read and learned about funerals as I prepared for this, the more I came to love this occasion in the life of, well, everyone who dies, but in particular the life of the faithful. 

There is a wonderful book called The Good Funeral, which is written by pastor and professor Thomas Long, and funeral director and poet Thomas Lynch. I started off my part of the workshop asking people what they believe makes a funeral “good.” Perhaps it is good music, people you love being there, meaningful preaching – and yes, all of these are elements of a good funeral. In the book, the authors argue that there are four elements that are necessary for a funeral to be good: 

1) A body, if possible – after all, a significant purpose of the funeral is to accompany our loved one to their final resting place, and how can we do that if they aren’t there? 

2) Mourners – people to whom this person who died mattered. From the beginning of humanity, people have cared for their dead and accompanied them to the grave. Until fairly recently, mourners even dug the grave themselves! Though we outsource a lot of the job of caring for the dead now to funeral homes, it remains a deeply human thing to show up and accompany our loved ones all the way to the end.

3) A story – not only the story of the person’s life, but a larger story to which we can connect their story and ours, something to provide some meaning to the persistence of capital-D Death, this mythic force that is the enemy of all that God wills for life. 

4) Transport – getting the body from here to there, as well as getting the mourners hearts from here to there. As Tom Lynch, the funeral director, says, “A good funeral is when, by getting the dead where they need to go, the living get where they need to be.”

Now I find all of this very helpful, both as a pastor and as a fellow human, who also struggles with the reality of death. But the part I’m drawn to in particular on this All Saints’ Day is the third point: the importance of a story, a story to which we can connect our own story and that of the deceased. 

For Christians, of course, this story is that of Jesus Christ and his triumph over death, and on All Saints, we get a heavy dose of that story, in all of our readings, really, but I want to focus especially on this stunning reading from Revelation. A lot of the book of Revelation is pretty weird, sometimes violent, and full of complex symbolism and hidden meanings. But even with the weird imagery, it is hard to read this passage and not feel its power. John paints a picture for us of a diverse gathering of people, clothed in robes of white, who spend their days in continual worship and praise. We then come to find out that these are not people who praise God because their lives have been so good. No, these are people who have come out of “the great ordeal.” It’s not entirely clear what that ordeal is – most likely it refers to people who have kept their faith in the face of persecution – but it is easy enough, and I think still faithful, to imagine there whatever “great ordeal” we might be facing. There are any number of global ordeals (wars, climate change) as well as all of the personal ones (illness, job loss, divorce). Sometimes the ordeal is the one at the forefront of our minds today: grief over the death of a loved one. We are no strangers to great ordeals, or tribulations.

Yet whatever the ordeal these people in Revelation have faced, here they all are, these white-robed people, standing at the throne of the Lamb (that’s John’s favorite name for Jesus), and praising unceasingly. How is it that these who have suffered can be so full of praise?

That is where our Christian story comes in, the story that makes for a good funeral, and, I’d argue a hopeful life. It is a story that faces head on the “great ordeals” of this life, giving them meaning, purpose, and a future. Scripture and Church history are both full of stories of trial and tribulation. And repeatedly, we see that ours is a God of promise, and a God who makes good on that promise. Now that doesn’t always mean we get everything we asked for or wanted. Or, it may mean we get exactly what we wanted, but in a form we didn’t expect. But either way, God fulfills his promise to his people.

This is shown in numerous Bible stories. For example, our Bible Huddles recently read the story of Jacob, wrestling with God – in this story, Jacob, Abraham’s grandson, is renamed “Israel” which means “strives with God,” and he walks away from his wrestling match with the divine, with a blessing, yes, but also with a limp, a reminder (with every step) of both the ordeal he has endured, and the power and promise of God. This coming week our Huddle story is that of the Exodus out of Egypt, in which the Israelites, enslaved and oppressed by the Egyptian king, are led out of slavery, through the Red Sea, and toward the Promised Land, toward freedom – another great ordeal. And then there’s Jesus, of course, who “suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried, and descended into hell” – all of that before, “on the third day, he rose again.” 

You see the theme here? God’s people have always endured “great ordeals,” of various types and flavors, and have always endured. Because ours is a God of promise, and that promise is this: that whatever ordeals or tribulations we face, be it physical or figurative wrestling, or captivity, or even death itself – the other side of that ordeal will be life, freedom, and salvation. We will come through it.

And that is why those white-robed people, those saints, are praising God, shouting, “Salvation belongs to our God, who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!” Because they have lived to see this promise come about, perhaps many times. And they know, just like those saints we remember and celebrate today, that even what the Apostle Paul called “the final enemy” – that is, capital-D Death itself – has been defeated by the Lamb, by Jesus. These, robed in white, have come through the great ordeal, and know that God will always win. And “for this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship him day and night within his temple.” They believe the promise of God, that the Lamb “will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” 

That story – told at “good” funerals, on All Saints Day, and I hope every time I climb into this pulpit – is a story that says, “Death cannot and does not have the final word. Death thinks he can win, that he can destroy hope and tear apart loving relationships, but we know better. We know that God wins, every time.” This story is the reason we come here week after week, to hear it proclaimed, to join with the saints who know this story so well themselves, and even to join with them at the table – a table that serves as a bridge between this life and the next, a table where no one hungers or thirsts, and tears are wiped away. Christ’s is a table where we are fed by God’s promise and assured that we are blessed: that we will be comforted, we will be filled, we will receive mercy, we will see God and be called the children of God, for that is what we are.

Thanks be to God for all the saints who have come through great ordeals to remind us that God’s promises are true. 

Let us pray… God of promise, your story of salvation is the best story ever told. When we face our own ordeals, keep our gaze upon your promise: that you will bless us and comfort us and save us. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Full service can be viewed HERE.