"Welcome to the New Jerusalem!" (Sermon on Revelation 21:1-6) | November 2, 2025

Sermon Text: Revelation 21:1-6
Date: November 2, 2025
Event: All Saints Day (Observed), Year C

Revelation 21:1-6 (EHV)

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, because the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. And the sea no longer existed. 2And I saw the Holy City, the New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.

3And from the throne I heard a loud voice that said, “Look! God’s dwelling is with people. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them, and he will be their God. 4He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain, because the former things have passed away.”

5The one who was seated on the throne said to me, “Look, I am making everything new!” He also said, “Write, for these words are trustworthy and true.” 6And he said to me:

It is done.
I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End.
To anyone who is thirsty,
I will give freely from the spring of the water of life.

Welcome to New Jerusalem!

I’ve been spending a good amount of time the last week or so looking over maps for the East Coast to get familiar with the lay of the land before Alex and I head out for a long weekend trip there the end of the week. One thing that stands out as you look at a map of that area, or really in a lot of places in the United States, is how often the “New” prefix is added to the front of place names. New York, New Hampshire, New England, New Mexico. All of these exist because people were going from their home to a new place, and they had the goal to make the new place like their home, but better. It’ll be like York—but new and better. The region will be like England, but new and better.

This morning, through the revelation given to the apostle John, Jesus gives us a glimpse of the same kind of concept: New Jerusalem, like Jerusalem, but new and better.

To really get the full effect of what this New Jerusalem will be, we should spend a few minutes considering what the original Jerusalem was (or should have been). God described Jerusalem as the place he chose to place his name. Initially, as he established the rule of King David, but even more so once David’s son, Solomon, completed the temple there. At the dedication of that temple, Solomon quoted God’s intent: “From the day I brought my people out from the land of Egypt, I did not choose a city from all the tribes of Israel to build a house for my Name to be there. I did not choose a man to be ruler over my people Israel. But now I have chosen Jerusalem as the place where my Name will be, and I have chosen David to be over my people Israel” (2 Chronicles 6:5-6). Jerusalem would be the place where God dwelt with his people, where his name would rest.

But that presence was a veiled presence. The pillar of cloud and fire (the visible sign of God’s presence that had led the Israelites out of Egypt) descended on the temple to signify that this was truly his house. Surely, God is omnipresent—is present everywhere all the time at once—but in Jerusalem, he specially highlighted his presence. But his presence descended on the temple’s inner sanctuary, the Most Holy Place, when the Ark of the Covenant was placed there. Only the high priest could enter into that inner place, and even then, he could only go one day a year—on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. And on that singular, special day, he could not enter without the blood of a sacrifice made for his own sins and also for the sins of the people. At the temple, the dwelling of God was with his people, but only sort of. It wasn’t a full presence, and it certainly wasn’t made accessible to everyone. The New Jerusalem is going to take the original Jerusalem—even in its most idyllic form—and improve on it.

To understand the true nature of this New Jerusalem, we need to go back well before Solomon’s temple, David’s rule, or even the founding of that city at all. We need to go back to Eden, to where the dwelling of God was truly and directly with people. Before the fall into sin, Adam and Eve walked, lived, and worked alongside God. They were created in his image—in perfect harmony with his will—and thus had a perfect relationship with God beyond anything that we’ve ever experienced between people or even with God in this life.

But that closeness, that bond, that unity was completely uprooted when Adam and Eve sinned. They listened to Satan’s temptations and took fruit from the tree that God had told them not to eat from—the one command he had given them! And in that moment, everything changed. Instead of walking with God, they hid from God. Instead of being united with God and agreeing with his will, they started playing the blame game for their sin, Adam even blaming God, accusing him of giving him a supposedly faulty wife in Eve. Where there had been unity, there was division. Death is that division—physical death that would divide soul from body, spiritual death that would divide people from God through unbelief, and ultimately, eternal death that would separate sinners from God forever in hell.

From then on, despite God’s presence and providence, it could not be said that God and human beings dwelled together. A wall of sin divided us from the divine, and it was a wall that we could not tear down or dig through. Sin was a problem that we could not solve.

The solution to that problem was hinted at in the Tabernacle and Solomon’s temple. There was a way to come into that Most Holy Place, but as we said, access was limited to just the high priest, and he needed the blood of a sacrifice for sin to enter. Later, the apostle Paul would make it clear and blunt that the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23). Later, the writer to the Hebrews would add on, assuring us that without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins (Hebrews 9:22). In order to solve sin, blood and death have to be involved.

But not ours. I mean, it should be ours, but there’s no way for your death or my death to bring about forgiveness, because if the punishment for our sins is laid on us, that punishment will never end. No, if sin was to be solved, if we were ever to have an actual reunion with God, someone would have to take our place. And not just any someone, but God himself. And that’s exactly what he did.

Jesus, God from eternity, took on our human flesh and lived in a state of humiliation among us. Isaiah had foretold his coming with the title “Immanuel,” meaning “God with us.” God’s dwelling was with people again, and while this was more visible and robust than the dwelling shown at the temple, it was a temporary dwelling, like a few nights’ stay in a tent while camping.

That temporary stay saw its conclusion at the cross. There, Jesus completely and fully took our place under the punishment our sins had earned. He took those wages of our sin—eternal death—onto himself and made satisfaction for them. As a human being, he was able to die for us; as God, that death was able to count for all people of all time. His death rescued us, and the proof of his victory is there in the tomb where they laid his body. Unlike the tombs of everyone else who has ever died, Jesus’ tomb is empty. He won the victory. He rescued us from the sin that made our dwelling with God impossible.

We heard God proclaim it in the last verse of our First Reading: “It is done.” While a different word in Greek, we can’t help but think of Jesus’ word from the cross, “It is finished” (John 19:30). Nothing is left to be completed. There is no work that you or I need to do to make things right again. Jesus, the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, did it all.

That means that we will not have a continuously veiled presence of God with us like we have right now. And it certainly means we don’t have a complete separation from God for eternity ahead of us, as our sins deserved. No, because of Jesus’ complete forgiveness, we look forward to a time when we will see God face to face. It will not be a temporary dwelling like Jesus’ first coming; it will be a permanent living directly with God forever. Like Eden, but without the threat of sin to ruin it.

Listen to how God describes this New Jerusalem, what living there would be like. These are probably familiar words, but let them wash over you this morning as something brand new: “Look! God’s dwelling is with people. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them, and he will be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain, because the former things have passed away.”

Like Jerusalem, but new and better. Truly, like Eden, but new and better. Like today, but new and immeasurably better.

Those who have gone before us, those who have died in faith, trusting in God’s promise of complete forgiveness, are already there in that New Jerusalem, that perfect city with no more death, sorrow, crying, or pain. That’s in part what we celebrate on this All Saints Day. We thank God for the perfect rest that he has given to his holy ones, washed clean in the blood of Jesus and brought into that heavenly dwelling.

But we also celebrate our own certainty that we will join their number. While we are not there yet, you and I are the saints of God, made holy in Jesus’ full and free forgiveness for us. When our time comes, God will bring us to that New Jerusalem, rescue us from everything that would harm us, and cut away the sin that so easily entangles us. We will be reunited with those who have gone before us and those who will come after us for an eternity of being people who dwell with God.

So, my fellow saints, welcome to the New Jerusalem. We haven’t crossed the threshold just yet, but it is absolutely certain that we will, for Jesus’ sake! Thanks be to God! Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria

Sermon prepared for Gloria Dei Lutheran Church (WELS), Belmont, CA (www.gdluth.org) by Pastor Timothy Shrimpton. All rights reserved. Contact pastor@gdluth.org for usage information.

"Behold! The Victor!" (Sermon on Revelation 19:11-16) | June 1, 2025

Sermon Text: Revelation 19:11–16
Date: June 1, 2025
Event: The Ascension of Our Lord (Observed), Year C

Revelation 19:11–16 (EHV)

I saw heaven standing open, and there was a white horse! Its rider is called Faithful and True, and he judges and makes war in righteousness. 12His eyes are like blazing flames, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him, which no one knows except he himself. 13He is also clothed in a garment that had been dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God. 14The armies in heaven, which were clothed with white, clean, fine linen, were following him on white horses. 15Out of his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. He will shepherd them with an iron staff. He himself is going to trample the winepress of the fierce anger of the Almighty God. 16On his garment and on his thigh this name is written: King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

Behold, the Victor!

When the clock ticks down on the championship game, it’s not too hard to figure out who won and who lost, even if you don’t look at the score. The body language on both teams will make that clear. In one, you will see joy springing from out of a well of energy they didn’t know they had. In the other, you will see the weight of disappointment hang heavy.

This morning, we are celebrating Jesus’ ascension. His ascension into heaven, much like his resurrection, is all about his victory. He rose because he accomplished all he needed to do in his death—he won! He ascended into heaven because he accomplished all he needed to in his time walking this earth—he won! So while today may not have all of the trappings of our Easter Day celebrations, the message and the comfort are very related.

But as we noted last week in our distinctions between the concepts of “joy” and “happiness,” sometimes it doesn’t really feel like Jesus has won anything, or at least nothing that makes a difference to us today. In fact, Jesus’ ascension can even seem like a badthing. We can’t see him anymore. He promised not to leave us as orphans, but doesn’t it feel like that sometimes? We know he promises to be with us always to the end of the age (Matthew 28:20), but often it doesn’t feel true or real. We can often feel more like the team that lost the championship game rather than the team that won.

As we noted last week, though, our emotions are often a poor judge of reality. Just because I might feel abandoned by God doesn’t mean that I am. So sometimes, our emotional selves need a reality check. And that is what we have before us this morning. In our Second Reading, we have a vivid picture of the reality of Jesus’ victory portrayed for us in John’s Revelation.

Leading up to our reading, John had seen the enemies of God—both of the spiritual and earthly realms—flex their power in a way that would be alarming to those on the earth. But the outcome was never in question. God throws down his enemies. God is the victor, and it wasn’t even close.

What we have before us is almost a snapshot, a freeze-frame that might hit just at the end of the movie, showing the hero triumphant over all the adversity that had led up to that moment. We would do well to study the details of this image to understand better what has happened and thus what will happen.

I saw heaven standing open, and there was a white horse! Its rider is called Faithful and True, and he judges and makes war in righteousness. Because Revelation is largely made up of visions, it makes heavy use of picture language, so people, places, numbers, and even colors often have meaning beyond the surface level. The color white throughout Revelation is a symbol of purity. You know how brave you need to be to wear a white shirt to a spaghetti dinner—any fleck of red sauce is going to jump out to anyone’s eyes! So, too, in spiritual terms, the purity of white would very clearly show any stain of sin. A garment cleaned and bleached would differ significantly from the garment run through the muck. This rider on his white horse is a picture of purity. And, as we’ll see, a picture of victory over impurity.

This isn’t the first time we’ve seen the white horse and its rider in Revelation. Back in Chapter 6, we heard about what has come to be known as the “Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.” A rider on a red horse comes and is given the authority to make war across the earth; a rider on a black horse brings famine, making food costs almost impossibly high; a rider on a pale green horse brings death of all sorts to the earth. But the first of the four horsemen is the rider on a white horse. John says, “A crown was given to [the rider on the white horse], and he went out conquering and to conquer” (Revelation 6:2). While the other horsemen are bringing calamities to the earth, this rider is different. His pure color and his conquering might are a vivid depiction of Jesus and his carrying out the gospel to the ends of the earth, one of the necessary things that has to happen before the end.

In chapter 19, we meet the rider on the white horse again, and the picture is even clearer. His name—Faithful and True—and his actions, making judgments and war in righteousness, show that this is not some self-centered, greedy warmonger. This is a King making judgments and war for the good of the people, to protect them from their enemies. And this is the explanation for the alarming appearance of his clothing: He is also clothed in a garment that had been dipped in blood. It’s not the rider’s blood, but as he walks among the now-calm battlefield, the blood of his enemies soaks into the hem of his robe. His enemies, ourenemies, have been vanquished.

His eyes are like blazing flames, and on his head are many crowns. These are divine images, especially the eyes. Our eyes need light to function. To see in a dark place, we need to bring a light source; otherwise, our eyes are useless. Not so for God. His eyes bring their own light—blazing flames—to see anything and everything, even the thoughts and attitudes of our hearts.

And finally, we have an identification of this rider beyond any debate: his name is the Word of God. John began his Gospel this way: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him everything was made, and without him not one thing was made that has been made. In him was life, and the life was the light of mankind. The light is shining in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. … The Word became flesh and dwelled among us. We have seen his glory, the glory he has as the only-begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth. … For out of his fullness we have all received grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ (John 1:1–5, 14, 16–17). This rider on the white horse, victorious, clothing dripping with the blood of his enemies, is none other than the Word of God himself—Jesus, our Savior.

And how does the Son of God rule? Out of his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. He will shepherd them with an iron staff. With the word from his mouth and with a shepherd’s staff. The sword of his Word is perhaps best described by the writer to the Hebrews: The word of God is living and active, sharper than any double-edged sword. It penetrates even to the point of dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow, even being able to judge the ideas and thoughts of the heart. And then the writer continues, reminding us how this victorious King with his flaming eyes rules his kingdom: And there is no creature hidden from him, but everything is uncovered and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we will give an account (Hebrews 4:12-13).

Let’s take a step away from the intense imagery of Revelation for just a moment and try to apply this to ourselves today. What does it mean that this rider on the white horse, the Word of God, who conquers all his enemies, now reigns? It is a vivid reminder of all that Jesus has done for us. Our spiritual enemies—sin, death, hell, and even Satan himself—lie decimated at his feet. Jesus’ cross didn’t look like this to our eyes, but here we see what was happening. Everything that stood against us and thus against him was obliterated there.

But we’ve already discussed this morning how that doesn’t always feel true. We suffer under the loads of disappointment and heartaches. Our sin continues to plague us, as does the sin of others. We battle health crises and have concerns for the future. We lose dear loved ones to death that feels all too inevitable and powerful, not at all like the conquered enemy that Jesus claims it to be.

We’re often led to despair or the assumption that Jesus has left us. After all, what more perfect image of abandonment could there be than Jesus rising into the sky, being hidden by the clouds, and then gone? And yet here we see that all of those feelings and assumptions are wrong. Jesus has not abandoned us; he rules all things for our eternal good, even if we can’t see it or understand it in the moment.

But remember what the angels said to the disciples as they squinted at the sky: “Men of Galilee, why are you standing here looking up into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven” (Acts 1:11). Jesus is not gone, nor is he even permanently hidden from our eyes. Instead, this rule that seems invisible to us will come to an end. Jesus will return to bring a clear end to this sinful, fallen world and to bring us to himself in the perfection of eternal life.

We often feel like we’re on the losing side of this thing or that—or maybe everything! But the reality is that we are on the Victor’s side because he conquered all our spiritual enemies to rescue us for eternity. And so we can take that fear or depression or worry back to the cross, the empty tomb, the hillside with the disciples looking into the sky, and to the hill where the Rider on the white horse stands triumphant. This is the reality, no matter what our eyes can see, ears can hear, or our emotions can feel. Jesus has ascended because he won—sin, death, and hell are vanquished, and we will be with our God forever.

My dear brothers and sisters, behold the Victor! Behold your Victor! Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria

Sermon prepared for Gloria Dei Lutheran Church (WELS), Belmont, CA (www.gdluth.org) by Pastor Timothy Shrimpton. All rights reserved. Contact pastor@gdluth.org for usage information.

"Absolute Power for Our Eternal Good" (Sermon on Revelation 1:4-8) | November 24, 2024

Sermon Text: Revelation 1:4b–8
Date: November 24, 2024
Event: Christ the King Sunday (The Last Sunday of the Church Year), Year B

Revelation 1:4b–8 (EHV)

Grace to you and peace from him who is, who was, and who is coming, and from the seven spirits that are before his throne, 5and from Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.

To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his own blood 6and made us a kingdom and priests to God his Father—to him be the glory and the power forever. Amen.

7Look, he is coming with clouds, and every eye will see him, including those who pierced him. And all the nations of the earth will mourn because of him. Yes. Amen.

8“I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, the one who is, and who was, and who is coming, the Almighty.

Absolute Power for Our Eternal Good

“Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” If you are watching a movie or reading a book and a character in the story has or acquires the ultimate power to rule, and they don’t start to use that selfishly, at least a little bit, your suspension of disbelief may flounder. We can’t believe anyone who had control of everything around them—all the wealth, all the political and social power—would be truly generous, selfless, and altruistic, using the power to help others rather than helping themselves. It doesn’t make sense because we know that’s not the way things work in this life.

We know what people are like; we even know ourselves. I’d love to think that if I had access to near-infinte money and could pull all the political strings of a nation, I would be kind and loving and use all of those resources for good. But I know that, like you, I have a sinful nature inside of me that would at least try to seize onto that and use it to serve myself rather than others, and perhaps even non-sensically use that large amount of power to try to get more at the expense of others. No, I’m probably good being far removed from that situation.

Sin corrupts everything. Sin is the reason that those in positions of power will often use it for their own advantage. But this morning on the last Sunday of the church year, we have the chance, the privilege, the joy to focus on the one who has literally all rule, power, and authority and yet had no sin, so that he uses that position and power for the good of others. Today, we focus on Christ as our King—the one who defeated our enemies, the one who cares for us in the present day, and the one who will return to rescue us from this life and bring us safely to himself in heaven.

Our Second Reading for this morning comes from the very beginning of the book of Revelation and is really setting the tone for the whole book. Revelation is filled with wild (and sometimes scary) pictures of events, but many of these vivid details picturesquely portray what has already happened or point ahead to what Jesus clearly promised would happen. In fact, there is no teaching in Revelation that is not taught elsewhere in Scripture, and often, we will use the more straightforward, more direct passages in the Bible to help unpack and explain the visions in this book.

But at the very start of this book, which is really one big letter, John sends greetings to those who would read what the Spirit inspired him to write—including us today. His greeting begins, “Grace to you and peace from him who is, who was, and who is coming, and from the seven spirits that are before his throne, and from Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.” Here is a greeting to God’s people from the Triune God himself. The one who is, was, and is coming—the Father, the seven spirits (or perhaps better translated, “the seven-fold Spirit”)—the Holy Spirit, and, of course, Jesus Christ.

The description of each person of the triune Godhead is worth spending a moment on. The Father is described as the one who is, who was, and who is coming. The tenses of those verbs are all very intentional: who is (present), who was (past), and who is coming (future). It speaks to God’s eternal nature. He is here; there was never a time when he wasn’t, and there will never be a time when he will not be. It’s a very similar word picture to the one God used when he revealed his name to Moses at the burning bush as “I am who I am” (Exodus 3:14), the forever-present God.

The Holy Spirit is described as being before [God’s] throne. This connects very closely to God’s promises about the Holy Spirit’s work in the book of Romans, where we’re told that he intercedes, prays for us even when we don’t know what to pray for, and even knows the very heart and mind of God (see Romans 8:26-27).

And then Jesus is described as the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth. Here we see the three-fold office or work that Jesus holds: prophet, priest, and for our focus this morning, king. He is a completely reliable prophet who was and is a faithful witness to God’s Word. He is the perfect priest who offered himself as the sacrifice for sin and then became the firstborn from the dead at his resurrection. And finally, Jesus is not just a king, but the King, even the ruler of the kings of the earth in that, despite all appearances, he has authority well above every earthly power.

All of that coalesces around our focus for this morning of Jesus as our King. Jesus’ work all points to his power and authority. Now, we have examples when he didn’t look like that all-powerful king. We have the example from our Gospel of him on trial before Pontious Pilate—it didn’t look like he was in charge. In just a few weeks, we’ll celebrate his birth again, and the baby in Bethlehem’s manger will not look like the King of kings and Lord of lords.

During his first time being present among his people, Jesus didn’t look the part of the king because he wasn’t here to promote his divine, regal authority. He was here as our loving King to save us from our spiritual enemies, so he humbly laid aside the full use of that divine power for a time to save us. John, thinking about that work, bursts into words of praise to Jesus: To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his own blood and made us a kingdom and priests to God his Father—to him be the glory and the power forever. Amen. The humble sacrifice of his life, the shedding of his blood, means we are freed from sins. That weak-looking man standing before Pilate, who eventually will be nailed to a cross, is still the one who has and deserves all glory and power because he is our God who created us, preserved us, and redeemed us from sin, death, and hell. Jesus’ victory was a baffling blowout, where despite appearances, our enemies never had even the remotest chance of winning.

So now we are a kingdom, his kingdom. He rules us, but not in a way that means trouble for us; he rules us in love and for our eternal good. He preserves and protects us at this very moment, but this feeling of an absentee King, or at least an invisible King, will not remain. There will come a time when he will return as he left, with the clouds of the sky, but now visible to everyone on earth. Look, he is coming with clouds, and every eye will see him, including those who pierced him. And all the nations of the earth will mourn because of him. Yes. Amen.

But why the mourning from the nations? Doesn’t this speak to Jesus being scary? Doesn’t this support the idea that his rule means something negative for us rather than positive? Later in Revelation, we will hear of the massive collection of people in heaven, an uncountable number from every nation and tribe (see Revelation 7:9 and the following). There will be people in eternal life from all over the world. But these nations, these tribes themselves? They are those who, collectively, have separated themselves from the promises and work of God. They sought earthly power above all else and rejected anything perceived as standing in their way, including the King. For them, at the King’s return, they will mourn because his appearance proves all of their aspirations failed and every delusion of their mind and heart false.

But not so for us. That day for you and for me will not be a day of mourning because it will be the return of our King in visible fashion, and it will mean the ultimate rescue from this world of sin, sorrow, and pain. In that moment, we will fully experience all that Jesus did for us. Whether we are caught up to heaven directly from this life or whether that day will mean the resurrection of our bodies laid in the earth with our souls that had been safe with God in eternity, the King’s return will mean the full experience of the peace he won for us—and the final, public defeat of our enemies, especially Satan.

We can and should look forward to that day. It will come soon when we are not necessarily expecting it, and he will bring us home to heaven where we will live forever seeing our loving King’s face every moment of every day.

But what about now? What about until that time of rescue and release? What about that time until we fully experience the victory our King has won for us? Well, all of these things are still true. Our King died for us and rose from the dead victoriously for us. We are still his people, citizens of his kingdom right now, even as we eagerly await his return.

But right here and right now is difficult. There is hardship and sorrow. We see sin corrupt everything that could be good in this life and leave it, at best, as ehhhh. But in this brief introduction, Jesus has another promise for us. Listen to how he describes himself, “I am the Alpha and the Omega,” and for those of us who don’t live in the Greek alphabet, we might hear him saying, “I am the A and the Z.” What does that mean?

It means precisely how he described himself—the one who is, and who was, and who is coming, the I am who I am. God is eternal, filling all time and even beyond time. For us, he is the beginning and the end of all things. Our whole lives, start to finish, are wrapped up in the care, compassion, love, and power of the Alpha and the Omega. Our King doesn’t lack anything to help us, provide for us, or save us because he is before and after everything. No matter how much the bully at school, that oppressive boss, or the terror of some world leader might make us think we are in trouble, we are not. Our God fills all things. No one else's power even comes close to God’s power—not even Satan. He’s been defeated in the lopsided victory where Jesus crushed his head, and now we are safe here and forever because our King continues to provide for us and work things for our eternal good until we see that eternal good with our own eyes.

My dear fellow loved citizens in our Savior’s kingdom: lift your heads from these miserable, trying times you are going through. See your King providing all that you need now but also keeping us ever mindful and longing for that ultimate rescue when he will bring us to himself. The Alpha and the Omega, the Lord God, is the one who loves you with eternal love. He’s won the victory over your enemies. All that remains is for us to join the victory celebration that will ring out in his kingdom forever.

Lord Jesus, quickly come. Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria

Sermon prepared for Gloria Dei Lutheran Church (WELS), Belmont, CA (www.gdluth.org) by Pastor Timothy Shrimpton. All rights reserved. Contact pastor@gdluth.org for usage information.