Sunday, August 23, 2026

Sermon -- 13th Sunday after Pentecost (August 23, 2026)

MATTHEW 15:21-28

In the name + of Jesus.

      There are times when it appears that our Lord ignores us and our challenges.  The Psalms remind us, “[Our] help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121:2).  When our help does not seem to come, we are perplexed by God’s seeming inactivity.  Is he concerning himself with bigger things?  Is he ignoring us?  Does he care?

     That was the case with the Canaanite woman who came to Jesus.  Our help comes from the Lord, so she came to her Lord.  She prayed for mercy, and for good reason.  She said, “A demon is severely tormenting my daughter” (Matthew 15:22)!  Her anxiety must have been through the roof.  She knew that Jesus brought healing and relief.  She yearned for it and begged for it.  She said, “‘Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David!  A demon is severely tormenting my daughter!’  But he did not answer her a word” (Matthew 15:22-23).  Jesus ignored her!  Maybe he was focused on bigger things.  Maybe he did not care.  But that does not sound like Jesus, does it? 

     If we attempt to defend Jesus’ callous response, we may cite a little background.  “Canaanites” refers to a number of nations who had inhabited the Promised Land.  They were wicked and practiced perverse worship, including child sacrifice.  The Lord had been patient with them, giving them centuries to repent.  When they did not, the Lord’s judgment came upon them.  That judgment could have come in the form of a plague or a natural disaster.  Instead, the Lord’s judgment came in the form of the sword, as the Lord commanded the Israelites to either drive the Canaanites out of the land or to kill them off.

     The Israelites were forbidden to show them any kind of mercy.  The reason was simple.  The Lord told them, “They will turn your sons away from following me, and they will serve other gods.  The anger of the LORD will burn against you, and then he will destroy you quickly” (Deuteronomy 7:4).  God had chosen the nation of Israel to be the people through whom the Savior would come into the world.  Allowing the Canaanites to remain settled in the Promise Land threatened the promise of a Savior.  No one was permitted to mess with that promise.  Therefore, the people of Israel were to extract or exterminate the Canaanite people.

     Obviously, they did not kill off all the Canaanites.  A Canaanite woman approached Jesus and pleaded with him for help and for mercy.  “But he did not answer her a word” (Matthew 15:23).  If we attempt to defend Jesus’ callous response, we might conclude, “No wonder he didn’t answer her a word!  She was a Canaanite!  She was marked for divine judgment, not divine favor.  Besides that, her daughter was possessed by a demon.  What cultish practice was she engaged in for that to happen?  She was getting what she deserved, and it was not mercy.”

     We are not told how long she had been crying out to Jesus.  Even if it wasn’t long, you can understand how it would quickly get tiresome.  It sure annoyed Jesus’ disciples!  They “pleaded, ‘Send her away, because she keeps crying out after us’” (Matthew 15:23).  If she was upset that Jesus had not answered her a word, it must have stung when he finally did respond.  He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matthew 15:24).  In other words, “I am here for the chosen people of God, not you.” 

     This Gentile woman—a Canaanite, no less!—did not give up on her petition.  She still trusted that Jesus would perform an act of mercy and healing.  She knew that Jesus was the Son of David.  In other words, he is the Messiah.  And he is not a Messiah for some; he is the Messiah for all—even for Canaanites.  So, “she came and knelt in front of him, saying, ‘Lord, help me.’  He answered her, ‘It is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to their little dogs’” (Matthew 15:25-26).  Ouch!  Jesus had reduced her to a little lap dog who should not eat from the Lord’s table.

     But great faith receives great mercy.  She persisted in her trust.  “[Our] help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121:2).  He is Christ, the Lord.  He is our help in time of need.  He is the Savior of the nations.  He delivers from sin, death, and especially from the power of the devil.  The Canaanite woman grabbed onto Jesus’ words, “It is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to their little dogs” (Matthew 15:26).  She replied, “Yes, Lord” (Matthew 15:27).  Am I nothing but a dog?  Okay.  So be it.  I do not claim to be worthy of special treatment.  I know that I am not owed mercy; for mercy, by definition, is not deserved.  So, I will be a dog.  But I am the master’s dog.  I still benefit from the master’s care.  “‘Yes, Lord, … yet their little dogs also eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.’  Then Jesus answered her, ‘Woman, your faith is great!  It will be done for you, just as you desire.’  And her daughter was healed at that very hour.” (Matthew 15:27-28).  Great faith receives great mercy. 

     The Canaanite woman refused to believe that Jesus was unconcerned for her, that he was merciless, or that his salvation was limited to a few.  She knew he was the Son of David, the Lord’s anointed—anointed to make the atoning sacrifice for sinners.  She knew that he had come to destroy the devil’s kingdom.  And if that was true, then he would relieve her daughter from the devil’s clutches.  So, she would not let Jesus’ gruff responses dissuade her.  She persisted in her faith.  She insisted that Jesus be who he is—a merciful Savior.  The crumbs from his table would be enough for her.  Great faith receives great mercy.

     Now, to my knowledge, no one here is demon possessed.  And chances are that you don’t know anyone who is.  But the devil does lay claim to everyone who enters this world.  We were all unclean, sinful even from the time we were conceived.  If we are to be saved, the Lord must deliver us from the devil’s grasp.  In Holy Baptism, the Lord converted you from unclean to clean, from sinner to saint.  Martin Luther’s rite of Holy Baptism even included a minor exorcism.  The pastor said, “Depart, unclean spirit and make way for the Holy Spirit.”  And in baptism, the Lord did what was promised: “You will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:38).  In this way, Jesus had released you from the power of the devil.  The devil cannot have you; you belong to Christ.

     However, the devil is not willing to leave you alone.  He is called “Satan,” which means Accuser.  He oppresses you with accusations and rubs your sins in your face.  He replays the past, reminding you of sins from long ago.  He opens wounds and makes the guilt fresh all over again.  The Lord has warned us, “[The devil] is a liar” (John 8:44); but when he accuses you of your sins, he does not lie.  He reminds you of what you have done and replays what you had said.  He does not make anything up.  You know his accusations are true.  In this way, the devil oppresses you.  He focuses you on yourself and your sin.  He wants to convince you that you are worthless, unlovable, and irredeemable.  But he will suggest ways to cope, tempting you to turn to drugs or alcohol, or worst of all, suicide.  The devil plays dirty, and he will do whatever he can to drag you down to hell with him.

     But the Bible reminds you of this—and it is imperative that you take it to heart: “The reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the devil’s work” (1 John 3:8).  Jesus grants you relief not merely from the devil’s claim on you, but also from his oppressing you with guilt and shame and misery.  Therefore, you and I cry out to Jesus, and he does not get annoyed by your cries for mercy.  Like the Canaanite woman, you want to be free from being oppressed by the devil.  Like the Canaanite woman, you know that “[Our] help comes from the LORD” (Psalm 121:2), and there is no other helper.  Like the Canaanite woman, you don’t deny your sins or your misery.  You confess it, and flee to Jesus for deliverance.  Like the Canaanite woman, you plead, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David” (Matthew 15:22)!  And like the Canaanite woman, you trust that Jesus will provide deliverance, relief, and consolation for sinners.  For, “The LORD is compassionate and gracious, …abounding in mercy.  …He does not treat us as our sins deserve.  He does not repay us according to our guilty deeds” (Psalm 103:8,10).  We trust that Jesus will do what was promised.  For, great faith receives great mercy.

     See how merciful the Lord is!  He does not treat us as our sins deserve.  We deserve death and hell.  We’ve earned it.  Jesus does not give us what we deserve; that is mercy.  But neither can our sins just be ignored.  So, to destroy the works of the devil, Jesus let the devil do his worst to him.  To deliver us from Satan’s accusations, Jesus held himself accountable for every sin imaginable.  Jesus was treated as our sins deserve as he put himself under divine judgment for us.  But then Jesus rose from the grave.  He who took our sins away lives to bestow forgiveness.  He who overcame death lives to bestow eternal life upon us.  He who took up every accusation of sin lives to silence the devil and to declare you not guilty of all charges.  

     There are only two times in the Gospels that Jesus commended someone for having great faith.  Both were Gentiles—a Roman officer and a Canaanite woman.  If great faith receives great mercy, perhaps you wonder if your faith is great enough.  Fear not.  You are not saved by how strongly you believe or by how sincere you are.  You are saved by how merciful the Lord is.  You are saved by his work for you.  Faith does not look to itself to see how bold or strong it is.  The devil tells you to look at yourself.  But faith looks to Jesus.  His saving work is perfect.  His salvation is sure and certain.  This great Savior bestows great mercy.

     The Canaanite woman was content to receive scraps from the master’s table, knowing that even a little from him was enough.  It is enough for us, too.  Our goal is to dwell in God’s presence and be seated at the eternal banquet in heaven.  That will come soon enough.  For now, we come to the Lord’s altar.  Here, we receive a small portion of the heavenly banquet.  It is a moment of time and a smidgeon of food.  For now, we receive scraps from the master’s table.  And it is enough to strengthen and keep you in the true faith until life everlasting.  It is enough to forgive your sins, to ward off the devil, and to keep you safe in Jesus’ care.  It is more than we deserve, but it is gladly and freely given.  For, our great Savior bestows great mercy.

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

Friday, August 21, 2026

Today's Earworm: Waterloo by Abba

I have a pet peeve (Things that make me go ARRRRGGGGHHHH!) about radio stations which are fixated on one song by an artist while virtually ignoring all others.

For example, did you know Bryan Adams has other hits besides Summer of '69?  And Kansas released something in addition to Carry On, Wayward Son?  Boston did more than More Than A Feeling.  You get the idea, and chances are you can add to this list.

Recently, one of the local stations began playing a lot of songs by Abba.  My theory is that the station manager recently discovered his Mom's CD collection and Abba's Greatest Hits was in there.  

In any case, I will give the station credit for this: They recognize that Abba had other songs beside Dancing Queen.  That's how the song Waterloo pierced my brain.  I also pay homage to a local town and sing Wabasha instead.  Now, if I only knew the rest of the lyrics....

Enjoy.



Worship Notes: Amen

Almost everyone is familiar with the word, "Amen."  We use it to punctuate our prayers.  We use it to express agreement with someone, even in secular settings.   In Luther's Small Catechism, the reformer taught our children to learn the definition as, "Yes, it shall be so."

The word comes from the Hebrew, which can mean "truth" or more specifically, "I believe, I trust."  Jesus used it to express a solemn truth.  We are probably more familiar with the King James Version's translation when it says, "Verily, verily..."  The recent Evangelical Heritage Version opts not to translate it at all.  It has Jesus stating, "Amen, Amen, I tell you..." 

Amen shows up repeatedly in our liturgy.  It is often said by the wrong person, however.  The word "Amen" is a response to the pastor's words.  It is not the pastor's word; it is the people's word.

In St. Paul's letter to the Corinthians, he mentioned how Amen was used liturgically in their services.  In this context, St. Paul was addressing people who spoke in tongues during the service (a topic worthy of commentary, but beyond the purpose of this post).  St. Paul wrote, "That is why a person who speaks in a tongue should pray that he may interpret.  For if I pray in a tongue, my spirit prays, but my understanding is unfruitful.  So what is to be done?  I will pray using my spirit, and I will pray also using my understanding. I will sing using my spirit, and I will sing also using my understanding.  Otherwise, how will an uninformed person say the “Amen” after you give thanks, since he does not know what you are saying?  To be sure, you are giving thanks well enough, but the other person is not being built up" (1 Corinthians 14:13-17, emphasis added).  The "Amen" was the response of one worshiper expressing agreement with the speaker.  By adding his "Amen," he was saying, "Yes, that is true, and it is my confession, too!"

Amen is the people's word.  It is said after the invocation.  The congregation assents, "Yes, the Triune name marks us, too."  It is said after the prayers.  The congregation assents, "Yes, that is our prayer, too."  It follows the Benediction.  "Yes, let the name and the blessing of the Lord rest upon us."  It can be said in other places, such as in response to the sermon.  Somehow, it became the custom for the pastor to punctuate his sermon with, "Amen."  Of course, the pastor agrees with his own sermon!  Hopefully the congregation does too.  There should be a place for the people to voice their "Amen" to assent to it.

As the preacher, I have no desire to have people shout out "Amen" during the sermon.  That would be disruptive and distracting--not only to me, but to others as well.  It also leads to the preacher fishing for "Amens" (Can I get an Amen?) during the sermon.  Fabricated praise seems to ring hollow.  If the congregation would like to add their assent to the sermon, it is teed up nicely for you.  The sermon concludes, "In the name of the Father, and of + the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."  This allows the congregation to add their assent very easily.

Amen can also be used in connection with the Lord's Supper.  It makes a nice confession, too.  Consider this response as the elements are distributed:

Minister:                  The body of Christ...
Communicant:   Amen.
Minister:                 ...given for you.

Minister:                  The blood of Christ...
Communicant:   Amen.
Minister:                 ...given for you.

The communicant makes a confession:  Yes, it IS the body of Christ I am receiving.  Yes, it IS the blood of Christ truly present.  A Protestant (e.g., Baptist, Methodist, Pentecostal, etc.) would not be willing to add their Amen since they believe the elements are merely symbolic.  Lutherans believe that it is the body and blood of Christ, and our Amen confesses it to be so.

These expressions of Amen have a long, historic use in Christendom.  It may be unfamiliar to WELS Lutherans, having fallen into disuse among us for various and sundry reasons.  But some practices are worth restoring, especially when they make a good confession.  

This practice is explained for you, but it is not to be forced upon anyone.  If people feel a little awkward adding their Amen, I would not presume to think they are denying Lutheran doctrine.  People are free to take up this practice or not.  But with any rite or ceremony, everyone should understand the "Why" behind it so that no one is scandalized if someone does adopt it.

Thursday, August 20, 2026

Adult Bible Class begins Sunday, September 13

The Canon of Scripture: Why These Books?  

          We confess 66 canonical books to be the Holy Scriptures.  “Canon” refers to a stick or a standard (like a “cane”).  So, the 66 books are the standard.  They are God’s word.  But why these books?  Why not others?  And what about the Apocrypha—why not them?  Let’s consider how God gave us the Scriptures and why we regard only the 66 books in our Bible as the word of God.

Sept 13                  Why THIS book?

Sept 20                 How has God revealed his word?

Sept 27                 What is divine inspiration?

Oct 4                     The Old Testament: Why these books?

Oct 11                    The New Testament: Why these books?

Oct 18                   What about other books?  Why not them?

Oct 25                   God’s word through human hands: Is there a problem?


Bible Class will meet in the church basement,
beginning about 10:15 AM. All are welcome.

Sunday, August 16, 2026

Sermon -- 12th Sunday after Pentecost (August 16, 2026)

FAITH TRUSTS WHAT IT HEARS, NOT WHAT IT SEES.

MATTHEW 14:22-33

In the name + of Jesus.

     The Lord had just fed the five thousand.  The crowds ate until they were full.  The apostles gathered up the leftovers, giving each of them a basket full.  Rather than bask in the praise of the crowd, Jesus sent everyone away—the crowds to their homes, the apostles to their boat.  Jesus, however, went up onto a mountain by himself to pray. 

     Occasionally, we pass over sentences in the Bible that seem to have little importance.  But listen again to this: “After he had dismissed the crowd, he went up onto the mountain by himself to pray.  When evening came, he was there alone.   In the fourth watch of the night” (Matthew 14:23,25) Jesus came to his disciples.  The fourth watch of the night was from 3:00 to 6:00 AM.  That means Jesus spent perhaps six or more hours in prayer.  I don’t know about you, but my sinful flesh finds anything more than five minutes to be a burden.  And should our Divine Service stretch out beyond an hour, we get antsy, check our watches, and offer some criticism.  This does not bode well for people whose goal it is to spend eternity in God’s presence.  Jesus, however, found it pure joy to spend lots of time pouring out his cares and concerns to his Father.  God be praised!  Jesus’ dedication to prayer atones for our lack of it.

     After his prayer, Jesus planned to meet up with his disciples.  But there was a problem: “The boat was quite a distance from shore, being pounded by the waves because the wind was against it” (Matthew 14:24).  To meet up with his disciples, Jesus would have to go to the middle of the Sea of Galilee.  So, that’s where he went.  The Lord of Creation overruled the laws of creation.  Jesus walked upon the waters to get to his apostles in the boat. 

     Familiarity with this miracle may reduce our reaction to, “Yeah, that was neat.”  The apostles had a whole other reaction.  “In the fourth watch of the night, Jesus came toward them, walking on the sea.  When the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified and cried out in fear, ‘It’s a ghost’ (Matthew 14:25-26)!  And familiarity with this account might have us shaking our heads at the apostles, saying, “Why were they so terrified?”

     If you have seen The Chosen, you might have gained an appreciation for this event.  The Chosen is a TV series which depicts the life of Jesus and his apostles.  For the most part, they do a very good job showing these men with real personalities, and especially of demonstrating the humanity of Jesus.  On the episode where Jesus walks on water, they showed how the apostles might have seen it.  In the black of night, they could not see much of anything except for the splashing of waves over the bow of the ship.  The Chosen added lightning to the scene, which I guess was possible.  When the lightning flashed, the apostles caught a glimpse of a man coming out to them on the water.  With each flash, that figure got a little closer.  No normal person would conclude, “Oh, that’s our buddy.  Hey, that’s neat!”  To see a man approaching your boat in the black of night would scare anybody.  People don’t walk on water, but ghosts might. 

     “Jesus spoke to them at once, saying, ‘Take heart!  It is I!  Do not be afraid’” (Matthew 14:27).  I don’t think it mattered that the apostles had just witnessed Jesus feed the 5,000 with the loaves and fish.  That was an amazing display of Jesus’ power.  But this?!  Walking on water?  Peter put Jesus to the test: “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water” (Matthew 14:28).  We should give Peter credit for this much—he did not fling himself over the side of the boat and say, “Well, if you can do it, so can I!”  He called on Jesus to say the word which enabled him to walk on water.  “Jesus said, ‘Come’” (Matthew 14:29)!  Once Peter had the command from Jesus, he stepped onto the water.  Peter listened to the command of Jesus because faith trusts what it hears, not what it sees.

     It is important to learn this lesson: We are right to hold God to his word.  When you pray, you can insist that Jesus live up to what he has promised.  That is not disrespectful; it is faith which knows and believes his promises.  It is the confidence that the Lord will never fail on his promises.  For example, Jesus promises to strengthen you against temptation.  So, when temptations come upon you, you can pray boldly that he will provide strength to overcome or an opportunity to escape it.   And you can hold him to that.  Faith trusts what it hears.

     We sin against God, however, when we hold God to promises he has not made.  After Jesus summoned Peter to come out on the water, we do not hear of the rest of the apostles saying, “Well, if he’s going out there, so are we!”  God did not give the command to them.  It would have been foolish to trust a word that was not given to them.  You, too, are a fool if you think Jesus’ word to Peter on the Sea of Galilee applies to you on Lake Pepin.  God could issue that command to you if he wanted, but he has not.

     Recognize what God has promised, and recognize what he has not.  He promises to supply your daily bread.  That means, he will always provide what you need to live.  But do you mistake your needs with your desires?  If God chooses to reduce your blessings so that you have to cancel Wi-Fi, vacation, and a gym membership, God did not fail you.  Those are nice, but they are not daily bread.  We sin against God when we fault God for failing to honor promises he did not make.  Repent. 

     Jesus summoned Peter to come out to him on the water.  He trusted that word.  “Peter stepped down from the boat, walked on the water, and went toward Jesus.  But when he saw the strong wind, he was afraid.  As he began to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’  Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand, took hold of him, and said to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt’” (Matthew 14:29-31)?

     Why did he doubt?  Because Peter was standing on water, and that’s not how water works!  Because the winds were whipping around him and the waves were crashing!  Peter assessed his situation and reasonably concluded, “What am I doing out here?”  Peter trusted what he saw and what he felt.  Can you blame him?  Well, Jesus did.  Peter, you had an authoritative word that the Lord would sustain you on the water.  “You of little faith, why did you doubt” (Matthew 14:31)?  Peter’s faith was in what he saw, not in the word he had been given.

     How often we trust what we see and feel and not what our Lord has said!  You can feel your stress level.  You can feel declining health.  You can see a strained budget.  You can see people who have no use for Jesus seeming to live a better life than you do.  You may even take up the lament of the Psalmist: “Have I really kept my heart pure for nothing?  Have I kept my hands clean in vain” (Psalm 73:13)?  This is why faith trusts what it hears, not what it sees.  What you experience can deceive you.  What you see can distort your focus. 

     Consider Noah.  The Lord had told him to build an ark because the world was going to be destroyed by a flood.  God said he would be patient for 120 years, and then judgment.  As Noah built the massive ark, he could not do it in secret.  There was no hiding it.  Noah must have endured mockery and scorn from whoever saw it.  How do you think Noah felt when he saw life go on as usual, when he saw the wicked continue shamelessly in their sins with no fear of judgment and no judgment coming—and that for decades!?  But Noah trusted what he had heard, not what he saw.  God had given his word, and God was faithful to it.  Judgment came upon the earth, but salvation was delivered to Noah and his family.

     And so also with you.  Faith trusts what it hears, not what it sees.  You know that a judgment is coming on the earth, and you also endure scorn as you wait patiently for it.  St. Peter warned in his second epistle, “In the last days scoffers will come with their mocking, following their own lusts.  They will say, ‘Where is this promised coming of his?  For from the time that our fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they have from the beginning of the creation’” (2 Peter 3:3-4).  But you know the word of the Lord, and you confess it every week: “He will come again to judge the living and the dead” (Apostles’ Creed).  Faith trusts what it hears, not what it sees.  God has given his word, and God will be faithful to it. 

     The Lord chooses not to dazzle us with marvelous displays.  The Lord showed Elijah a violent wind, an earthquake, or a fire.  But the Lord was not in those.  Then he spoke through a gentle whisper.  He still speaks through his word.  It might be appealing to see our Lord perform great, miraculous signs—or, to be like Peter and participate in it!  But the Lord does not want us to focus on what we see or feel.  Faith trusts what it hears.

     Jesus told us to listen to the prophets and apostles.  They have recorded God’s words so that we can read, learn, mark, and inwardly digest them.  Faith trusts what it hears, not what it sees.  For, if you had seen Jesus at his crucifixion, you would have seen a man who was detested, mocked, beaten ruthlessly, and languishing on a cross.  Sight says he was pathetic; faith says that he is worthy of praise because faith trusts the word which reveals the truth: “It was because of our rebellion that he was pierced.  He was crushed for the guilt our sins deserved.  The punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5).  Jesus Christ was crucified to atone for all our sins.  Faith knows that this is where salvation was won.  And faith clings to the words of absolution where that forgiveness is delivered. 

     Faith trusts what it hears, not what it sees.  When we see an infant brought to the font to have water poured on his or her head, it looks like nothing.  But the word of the Lord says, “He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit” (Titus 3:5).  Faith trusts what it hears, not what it sees.  When we come to this altar, our eyes, hands, and mouths tell us this is bread and wine.  Jesus tells us, “This is my body. … This is my blood of the new testament, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Matthew 26:26-28).  When you receive it, you may not feel forgiven, but Jesus says you are.  Faith trusts what it hears, not what it sees. 

     The apostle Peter had received a specific word from Jesus to come to him on the water.  As long as he focused on that word, he was safe.  When he focused on his own experience, it could have ended disastrously.  You and I are never called to put our trust in our senses, our reason, or our motives.  If you do, it will end disastrously.  Rather, you have been given specific promises from our Lord.  Faith trusts what it hears from him.  And as long as you trust in that, you are safe. 

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

Saturday, August 15, 2026

Sermon -- Funeral for Kirsten Langfield (August 15, 2026)

+ Kirsten (nee: Kitchin) Langfield +

(January 22, 1965 – July 28, 2026)

THE RISEN SAVIOR GIVES US AN ENDURING HOPE.

1 THESSALONIANS 4:13-18

In the name + of Jesus.

      St. Paul speaks about hope.  Perhaps a funeral sounds like a strange place to talk about hope.  When Kirsty was diagnosed with cancer, there was hope that treatments would provide a cure.  You hoped that she could resume running 5K races, and Greg hoped that he would finally beat her.  As the cancer progressed, there was a hope that God would work a miracle.  When the doctor told you that her condition was not going to get better, you hoped to make one more trip to England and see family there one more time.  That hope was fulfilled, but then you came back here to await a hopeless situation.  Kirsty’s death could not be averted.  When death comes, hopes and dreams die with it.

     But St. Paul assures you today that there is an enduring hope even in the face of death.  He wrote to the Thessalonian Christians who had been misled about death and the resurrection of the dead.  They feared that their fellow Christians had somehow missed out on the resurrection and eternal life.  So, Paul assured them that their hope was not misplaced, nor had it failed.  He wrote, “We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who have fallen asleep, so that you do not grieve in the same way as the others, who have no hope.  Indeed, if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, then in the same way we also believe that God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep through Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14). 

     The risen Savior gives you an enduring hope.  This hope, however, does not mean that it doesn’t hurt right now.  Your sorrow and grief are genuine and natural.  Death hurts.  It is cruel because it rips our loved ones from us.  Grief does not mean a lack of faith.  Nor does it destroy your hope.  St. Paul points you to Jesus “so that you do not grieve in the same way as the others, who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13).  The risen Savior gives you an enduring hope.

     Kirsty’s work in biochemistry and with life science companies served to improve people’s lives.  Her work may have extended the lives of some people.  But no amount of research or medicine has allowed anyone to elude death.  Kirsty’s death resulted from cancer.  If not for cancer, it could have come from a car accident or heart failure or old age.  But the root cause for every death is always the same: sin.  The Bible reminds us, “The wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23).  While you will always remember Kirsty for her love of travel, for singing in the choir, and for the love she showed in caring for others—and you aren’t wrong—she was a sinner.  She, like all of us, did not live up to God’s commands.  Sin marks us all.  That is why death comes to us all.

     What hope is there in the face of death?  What hope do sinners have when we stand before God to answer for our lives?  Kirsty’s hope was not that she did more good than bad.  Your hope is not that, since you loved Kirsty, God must have shared your affection.  Rather, the only real hope anyone can have is in Jesus who came to deal with sin and death for us all. 

     In order to secure a full pardon for us, Jesus made himself accountable for all our guilt.  The wages of sin is death; therefore, Jesus laid down his life for us.  Jesus’ death is the payment for all our sin.  Jesus bore the punishment that sinners deserve.  Since Jesus has paid the price for all sins, we have an enduring hope at the final judgment.  We don’t need to bargain with God about how much we have done, tried to do, or wished we could have done.  You don’t need to present a resume to God and cross-your-fingers-hope that you are good enough for heaven.  The crucified and risen Savior assures us that our sins have been taken away from us.  This is our enduring hope.

     The Bible reminds us, “The blood of Jesus purifies us from all sin” (1 John 1:7).  That was applied to Kirsty when she was baptized in the name of Jesus.  There, Jesus clothed her in a garment of salvation.  There, Jesus marked Kirsty as a child of God.  And Kirsty continued to come to God’s house to be confirmed in God’s promises.  She came to this altar where she received the blood of Christ which bestows forgiveness and the body of Christ which has conquered death.  This is where Jesus gave her an enduring hope. 

     When Kirsty was seeking her green card to work in the US, she encountered many challenges.  There were limits in staffing, limits in office hours, and other frustrations.  But the green card was necessary if she were going to be gainfully and legally employed here.  There are also restrictions in entering heaven.  Jesus has removed one giant obstacle: He has taken away Kirsty’s sin.  But her body was still subject to death and the grave.  A sin-stained body cannot enter a sinless heaven. 

     The risen Savior gives you an enduring hope, even in death.  That’s because your crucified Savior is also your risen Savior.  Jesus’ resurrection proves his authority over the grave.  This authority serves Kirsty as well.  St. Paul wrote, “Indeed, if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, then in the same way we also believe that God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep through Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 4:14).  Death does not get the last word.  On Judgment Day, Kirsty’s body will be raised in glory.  She will be raised with a body that is imperishable—it cannot die again, and incorruptible—it will not even get sick, weak, or frail.  The risen Savior gives you an enduring hope.  The grave has to give Kirsty back.  And if you cling to Jesus, you will be reunited with Kirsty and all the faithful.  This hope is backed by the death and resurrection of Jesus.  And since nothing can erase that, nothing can destroy this hope.

     St. Paul spelled out what the future will be when Jesus comes again.  “In fact, we tell you this by the word of the Lord: We who are alive and left until the coming of the Lord will certainly not go on ahead of those who have fallen asleep.  For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a loud command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the trumpet call of God, 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 always be with the Lord” (1 Thessalonians 4:15-17). 

     So, you see, you have not lost Kirsty.  She dwells with the Lord in peace, comfort, and joy.  You may grieve for some time.  It will hit you at random times and for strange reasons.  But you do not have to grieve like people who have no hope.  The risen Savior gives you an enduring hope which not even death can overcome.  Jesus lives.  Kirsty does too.  “Therefore, encourage one another with these words” (1 Thessalonians 4:18).

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