"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.

"Love!" (Sermon on John 13:31-35) | May 18, 2025

Sermon Text: John 13:31–35
Date: May 18, 2025
Event: The Fifth Sunday of Easter, Year C

John 13:31–35 (EHV)

After Judas left, Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man is glorified, and God is glorified in him. 32If God is glorified in him, God will also glorify the Son in himself and will glorify him at once.”

33“Dear children, I am going to be with you only a little longer. You will look for me, and just as I told the Jews, so I tell you now: Where I am going, you cannot come.

34“A new commandment I give you: Love one another. Just as I have loved you, so also you are to love one another. 35By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Love!

What is the mark of a Christian? You could point to something like a cross on a chain around someone’s neck as a possible sign, but that’s not always going to be clear-cut—surely anyone can wear that if they wanted to, whether they believed that Jesus was their Savior or not. A piece of jewelry could as easily be a sentimental piece (perhaps it belonged to a loved one now passed away) as it is an expression of what is in someone’s heart. Perhaps the mark of being a Christian is attending church regularly. While that might be a better indication than jewelry choices, it’s still not a slam-dunk because what if someone is going because they're curious or feel it’s an obligation, not because they believe? Certainly, not everyone sitting in a church for a worship service could be called, or would want to be called, a Christian.

Jesus gives us a mark of a Christian in our Gospel for this morning: Just as I have loved you, so also you are to love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. Jesus points to love as a clear marker of whether someone is a Christian, indicating that they trust in Jesus as their Savior.

However, that raises several questions. “Love,” at least in English, has to rank up there as one of the top words with a multitude of different understandings depending on who you are talking to. Does someone think of love purely in an emotional sense, the butterflies in your tummy when you see the person who is dear to you? Does someone define it in a physical sense, so that it is someone for whom you hold a deep sexual attraction? Does someone define it as a general sense of kindness to others by which they might say they love all (or at least, most) people? And, going beyond the expressions of love, we must delve deeper into the motivation behind those supposedly loving actions. Is it other-serving or self-serving? Is it borne out of a pure desire or a societal obligation? Is it done out of kindness and care for someone else, or fear of what will happen if the loving action isn’t done?

As we continue to bask in the Easter glory—the glory of Jesus’ victory over sin and the grave for us—these are good things for us to wrestle with. Last week, we had a good illustration of Jesus’ love for us. He was clear that he came to bring eternal life so that we would never perish in hell. But today we grapple with the flip side of that, not how the Shepherd loves the sheep as much as how the sheep respond to that loving Shepherd.

Our Gospel for this morning takes us back to the upper room where Jesus and the disciples are celebrating the Passover on the night that Judas betrayed Jesus. In fact, the first verse of this brief reading makes it clear that Jesus speaks these words immediately after Judas leaves to carry out the betrayal. Jesus had told Judas, “What you are about to do, do more quickly” (John 13:27), and so he did.

It is in this upcoming betrayal that the Son of Man is glorified, and God is glorified in him. Why? Because this is really the beginning of the millennia-long plan to save humanity from our sins. Judas’ betrayal later that night will be the first domino to fall that will lead Jesus to the cross to suffer for the world’s sins. Jesus and the Father are both glorified in this work to save mankind from the punishment of hell. Jesus tells them what this work will mean: Where I am going, you cannot come. The disciples would not be able to journey to the cross; they would not be able to bear the punishment for the world’s sin. Only Jesus could do that; the journey ahead will be a lonely and solitary one.

But they will not be without work or direction. Jesus gives one of the two main commands on that Maundy Thursday (or “Command” Thursday) evening: “A new commandment I give you: Love one another.”

To our ears, that might sound a little off. In what way is this new? Hasn’t there always been a command to love others? It was codified in the covenant and law that God gave to his people after the Exodus: You must not take revenge. You must not bear a grudge against the members of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself (Leviticus 19:18). Jesus himself said that to love God above all and love your neighbor as yourself was, in fact, the greatest command and summary of the entire law (Matthew 22:37-40, Luke 10:26-28). So why does Jesus call this commandment “new”?

John, the author of our Gospel for this morning, offers some commentary on this very thought in his first letter. There he writes, “Dear friends, I am not writing you a new command but an old one that you have had since the beginning. The old command is the message you heard. At the same time, the command I am writing is new—it is true in Jesus and in you, because the darkness is passing away, and the true light is already shining. The one who says he is in the light and yet hates his brother is still in the darkness. The one who loves his brother remains in the light, and nothing causes him to stumble” (1 John 2:7-10). John recognizes that this command is both new and old at the same time, and it is probably the motivation for this love that makes that distinction.

The old command of the law to love was just that: a law command. “You must do this,” the law said, “or else.” However, Jesus offers a different motivation for showing love to others here: “Just as I have loved you, so also you are to love one another.”It’s still a command, but it’s a command with gospel motivation rather than fear-based motivation. There’s no threat here, no warning if you fail to do as Jesus directs. Rather than fear of punishment, joy in Jesus’ love for us is what drives this command. Jesus’ love is to be both the motivation and the model for our love for other people.

Our Second Reading this morning from 1 Corinthians 13 is essentially a commentary on this love—what does it look like, sound like, act like? Patient, kind, not envious, not self-seeking. In the context of 1 Corinthians, Paul illustrates how far the members of the Corinthian congregation have fallen short of genuine love. 1 Corinthians 13 love is the love Jesus is directing his disciples to have for each other. 1 Corinthians 13 love is God’s love for us, and it is the goal we have for the love we show to others, even if we often fall short.

But this godly love, this reflection of God’s ultimate love for us, is always the goal in every relationship and interaction, from our blood relatives, to the members of our church family, to the stranger we’ve just met. Patient, kind, compassionate. To what end? “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

The word Jesus uses here, translated “know,” is a special kind of knowledge. It’s not mere book knowledge. This is not describing someone knowing you are a Christian in the same way that they know if you are tall or short or what color eyes you have. No, this knowledge is experiential knowledge. This is knowledge that comes because someone has seen it, felt it, and been immersed in it. The implication is that everyone knows you’re a Christian, one of Jesus’ disciples, because that love for each other has included them as well; you have loved them with the same kind of love with which Jesus loved you.

Is that how you would describe your interactions with others? Whether people who are familiar to us or unfamiliar, would you describe your actions and attitudes as this godly, 1 Corinthians 13 love? How willing in the past week have you been to give of yourself for others? How willing have you been to devote your time to someone who needed a moment, your energy to someone who needed a hand, your resources to someone who needed a bridge over a difficult time, your thoughts and prayers to those who had things that should be brought before God’s throne?

If we’re honest, while I pray that we tried, we will also see that we’ve fallen short. Immediate family and strangers alike haven’t received from us the kind of love Jesus is urging us toward here. We have been stingy—selfish—in our doling out of love, to the direct contradiction of Jesus’ command and direction. We struggle to love others as we love ourselves, let alone to love as Jesus has loved us!

Rather than beating ourselves up over those failures, though, I think it’s perhaps in our best interest to remember why we want to have this kind of love for other people. It’s not just because we’re supposed to, nor is it just because it makes us or others feel good; it’s a reflection of the love God has already shown us. That means that this love for each other and all people is one of the strongest attractive forces we have to bring people to Jesus, even before they hear the words of the gospel message itself. The goal is that it instills in people the desire to know more, as this God-like love is so foreign and confusing compared to the way people typically treat others, yet also so very wonderful that they want to learn more. “What would lead someone to treat me in this way? What would cause them to care about me when no one else seems to? What would drive their passion for service, even if no one else sees or knows about it?”

We know that answer clearly: our love is driven by thankfulness for God’s love for us. By nature, our sin made us utterly unlovable. Yet Jesus’ love for us wiped out that unlovable sin—even the times that we have been unloving to others!—and left us as perfect in God’s sight. That kind of self-sacrificing, all-encompassing, all-forgiving, wholistic love is what we strive to reflect to others, show to others, and use to hold others carefully and firmly in our hearts and actions.

It is remarkable to me that one of the primary ways God gives us to express our gratitude for his forgiveness is by loving one another. It almost feels like a 2-for-1, loving God by loving my neighbor. But so great is God’s love and concern for others—believers and unbelievers alike—that he puts this goal of Christ-like love for all people in front of us. Jesus even says, when commenting on people’s good works at the end, “Just as you did it for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it for me” (Matthew 25:40).

So, dear Christian, wear that mark of your faith. Show true, genuine love for all people, regardless of who they are, because one thing unites us all: every human being is a soul for whom Jesus died. His love has paid the price for their sins as it did ours; his love has prepared a place for them in eternal life as he has for us. In peace and joy, love as you have been loved!

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.

"Has Your Sorrow Turned to Joy?" (Sermon on John 16:16-24) | May 25, 2025

Sermon Text: John 16:16-24
Date: May 25, 2025
Event: The Sixth Sunday of Easter, Year C [Confirmation Sunday]

John 16:16-24 (EHV)

“In a little while you are not going to see me anymore, and again in a little while you will see me, because I am going away to the Father.”

17Therefore some of his disciples asked one another, “What does he mean when he tells us, ‘In a little while you are not going to see me, and again in a little while you will see me,’ and ‘Because I am going away to the Father’?” 18So they kept asking, “What does he mean by ‘a little while’? We don’t understand what he’s saying.”

19Jesus knew that they wanted to ask him about this, so he said to them, “Are you trying to determine with one another what I meant by saying, ‘In a little while you are not going to see me, and again in a little while you will see me’? 20Amen, Amen, I tell you: You will weep and wail, but the world will rejoice. You will become sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn to joy. 21A woman giving birth has pain, because her time has come. But when she has delivered the child, she no longer remembers the anguish, because of her joy that a person has been born into the world.

22“So you also have sorrow now. But I will see you again. Your heart will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you. 23In that day you will not ask me anything. Amen, Amen, I tell you: Whatever you ask the Father in my name, he will give you. 24Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask, and you will receive, so that your joy may be made complete.”

Has Your Sorrow Turned to Joy?

That night in the upper room, just before Jesus was betrayed, he had many heavy and difficult things to share with his disciples. Last week we heard that command to love one another, and noted that that would be their guiding life principle in the difficult hours ahead, but more to the point, in the years ahead as they would clearly live their lives as Christians, loving to all, in this fallen world.

This morning, we jump to a later part of the conversation that night. Here, in many ways, he’s directing them to the coming 48 or 72 hours—in a little while you are not going to see me anymore, and again in a little while you will see me—a reminder that their separation from Jesus by his death on the cross was near at hand, but that there would also be a joyous reunion after his resurrection. Jesus summarizes the emotional rollercoaster they will be on this way: Amen, Amen, I tell you: You will weep and wail, but the world will rejoice. You will become sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn to joy.

Why would the disciples’ sorrow be turned to joy? Well, in the short term, the sorrow caused by the death of their dear friend and teacher would be turned to joy at his resurrection, even if they had some pit stops at doubt and astonishment. And the more they understood about Jesus’ work, the deeper the Holy Spirit’s work in their hearts, they would understand that this was not just the restoration of the life of a friend but actually the forgiveness of sins and the promise of eternal life for all people. That joy would continue to grow and multiply as it was shared.

But before we get too far into this, this might be a good time to talk about the difference between “joy” and “happiness.” Both are emotional states, but joy is the more profound, more deeply rooted emotion. Happiness might be flashy—it might have the most clear outward expressions, but it can be more fleeting. I can be happy in the morning and kind of bummed by the afternoon, even if there’s no real reason for it.

But joy is based on contentment. Joy is more stable. And while we think of rejoicing as outbursts of positivity, it’s not always like that. Joy might fill a parent’s heart as they see their child get their diploma, even if there’s not a lot of whooping and hollering. After a long, productive day, you’re probably exhausted. Slumped on the couch before admitting to yourself that you should just go to bed, happiness might not be the best word to describe your state. But if you look around the house and see the work that was accomplished that day, or you think through all things you saw or did when out and about, you might be filled with a quiet, contented joy, just before you nod off.

I don’t think it goes too far, as we explore this distinction, to say that Jesus was not filled with happiness to go to the cross. His desperate pleading with the Father in the Garden of Gethsemane to let the cup of suffering pass by him would point to a lack of excitement over the plan. But the goal, the salvation of mankind, well, that filled Jesus with joy. Thus, his prayer to the Father was not merely to avoid this upcoming suffering, but that his Father’s will be done. Jesus shared that goal, and since there was no other way to save us, he joyfully went to his suffering and death, even if he wasn’t doing cartwheels on the way to Golgatha.

That’s to say that when Jesus promises the disciples their sorrows will be turned to joy, he does not mean they will be perpetually giddy like little children. We know that there will be difficulties; we’ve ever read about some of those in our first readings from the book of Acts during this Easter season. And how much those difficulties would have been magnified because this “again in a little while you will see me” would be short-lived! We will observe and celebrate Jesus' ascension next Sunday, which would have been only 40 days after Easter. They would see him again, and then he would be removed from their sight once more, but not just for a couple of evenings in the tomb.

Which brings us to today. How often does it feel like we’re in a perpetual time of not seeing Jesus anymore? Sure, we have his words in the Scriptures, we have the Holy Spirit dwelling within us, but I think we might sympathize with Thomas more often than not. “Oh, Lord, if I could just see you, speak to you directly, maybe even put my finger where those nails were, I would be comforted.” Yet he remains hidden from our eyes.

Hardships, heartaches, and losses just compound this feeling that Jesus isn’t here or doesn’t care. To us, it makes sense that if I’m the dearly loved child of God, my life should be overflowing with peace, joy, and even happiness. But is it? Even if we’re being honest when we describe our lives as “fine” or even “good,” they’re never perfect. There’s always something that could be better, some hope left unfulfilled, some change we’d make in an instant if we could just snap our fingers and make it different.

Sin brings immense sorrow to this life. Whether it’s my sin, which leads me to spend restless nights stewing in my guilt, other people’s sins that have wronged me, or just the general sadness that comes from living in this corrupted, sinful world, sorrow is our constant companion.

The disappointment and frustration that accompany sorrow can easily lead to seeking someone to blame. Perhaps I blame myself and the mistakes that I’ve made or the opportunities I didn’t take advantage of. Maybe I start blaming other people for their roles in what I find to be a very sorrowful situation. And, often, the blame finger can even point at God. After all, he’s all-powerful and supposedly all-loving; if I’m trapped in a situation I hate or regret or wish were very different, doesn’t the One who is in control of all things bear responsibility for this?

And here we see just how far our sinful selves fall—and how quickly! We’ve gone from sadness to blaming God for the things in our lives that aren’t as we think they should be. And if we take a step back, I hope and pray we can see just how dangerous and reckless a place that is to be.

However, this template of sorrow leading to joy can also be applied to us. Has your sorrow been turned to joy? If we look back on our lives, we can probably recall times when we were at our lowest, but by God’s grace, we’ve come out of those depths. The disappointments may not have the edge they once did, the losses are duller than they initially were, and we have found some contentment in the way God has shepherded us through these times.

Or perhaps those hardships are still very much a part of your life. Maybe that sorrow sits like a sandbag on your shoulders, pushing you down. And in that, Satan sees and often tries to seize the opportunity to drive us from God. Because those thoughts of blaming God for dissatisfaction in my life find their root in him, the father of lies. He plays the same card that he played on Adam and Eve in the beginning, trying to convince us that God is holding out on us, that he doesn’t have our best interests in mind, that really, these things I lack or the problems I have are God’s fault.

So our prayer to God this morning is that he pull us back from those sorrows. Maybe it’s not his will to remove the things that cause them, but that he pull us back to gain some perspective that’s easy to lose in the depths of these sorrows. “Yes, I have this hardship or lack that blessing, but what do I have for certain?” Jesus says, “Let me show you.”

And so he takes us back to his cross to see our sins paid for—even the sins of blaming God for our sorrows and dissatisfactions—completely forgiven by his suffering and death in our place. Then we journey again to the empty tomb, to see the certainty of that forgiveness. Christ is risen indeed, after all. Sin, death, and hell have no hold on us. You, dear Christian, have forgiveness. You have the certainty of eternal life with your Savior. You have a peace and joy that goes beyond all human, natural understanding and comes only through the Holy Spirit’s work within you.

This morning, we have a joyful reminder of these blessings as we celebrate Ava’s confirmation. Her essay, while summarizing many of the things she has learned and become convinced of through the Spirit’s work in her heart, will also serve as a reminder for you and me. Because what is true for Ava is true for all of us. And God’s love is what turns our sorrow back to joy.

But what might be lacking in this journey is a removal of that thing that was causing the sorrow and discontent in the first place. Maybe that hardship won’t be taken away; maybe that longed-for blessing will never be given to me. This is not God’s cruelty or desire to see us sad; rather, it is his care for us that goes beyond what we can see; it is his will for us that looks out for our eternal well-being above all else; his love for us that promises to work all things for our eternal good, even when we can’t see or understand what that good is. Like Paul with his thorn in the flesh, Jesus’ answer to our pleading may not be to remove the hardship, but rather a reminder that his grace is sufficient for us, his power is made complete in our weaknesses (2 Corinthians 12:7-10).

You, my dear sisters and brothers, are also a blessing to one another in these things. Jesus’ direction to love one another finds direct application here. My sorrow may be too much to bear on my own; I may not be able to see joy on the other end of that sadness. But you can help me. In your love for me, you can support me in my sorrow, whether it comes from loss or a lack of fulfillment, guilt or the pain of being wronged. Your love for me directs me back to my Savior, to my life, to my joy. And I, in turn, can love you with that very same purpose and goal.

The things that cause sorrow in this life will not end, but this life of sorrow will end. There will be a time (and from an eternal perspective, it will be just “a little while”) where we will see Jesus face to face in the perfect courts of heaven.

Until that day, love one another. Until that day, pray to your loving God in the name of your Savior, Jesus, for rescue and relief according to his will. Until that day, find joy in your Savior’s eternal love for you, which we will experience fully in the end.

My dear brothers and sisters, 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.

"Is Jesus Keeping You In Suspense?" (Sermon on John 10:22-30) | May 11, 2025

Text: John 10:22-30
Date: May 11, 2025
Event: Good Shepherd Sunday (The Fourth Sunday of Easter), Year C

John 10:22-30 (EHV)

Then the Festival of Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, 23and Jesus was walking in the temple area in Solomon’s Colonnade.

24So the Jews gathered around Jesus, asking, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.”

25Jesus answered them, “I did tell you, but you do not believe. The works I am doing in my Father’s name testify about me. 26But you do not believe, because you are not my sheep, as I said to you. 27My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. 28I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. 29My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all. No one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. 30I and the Father are one.”

Is Jesus Keeping You in Suspense?

Suspense and tension are powerful storytelling tools. The movie or book that hints that there’s something really, really wrong but doesn’t give you enough information to figure out what that thing is will probably keep you engaged because you want the resolution to that suspense. You want to learn the mystery, the secrets that are hidden beneath the surface. So the minutes of the movie tick by, the pages of the book turn, and you dive into the world.

When God called Abraham to leave his home in Ur and go to the place God would give to his family—the Promised Land—God didn’t actually tell him where he was going. He didn’t give him a city, country, or any other information. He simply told Abraham to head out, and he’d let them know when they arrived. God used that suspense to test and prove Abraham’s faith, not really for God to learn something, but for Abraham himself to learn something about his faith and as a powerful testimony to those who knew what Abraham was doing. I have to imagine that even as Abraham trusted God, the suspense must have left him at least slightly rattled and on edge.

In our Gospel, the Jewish people gathered around Jesus felt that he was keeping them in suspense about something very specific: “If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.” The timing of this request (or maybe better, demand) of Jesus is significant. Jesus is in Jerusalem, at the temple, for the Festival of Dedication. In our day, we know this festival better as Hanukkah.

Hanukkah was and is the celebration of the dedication (or, perhaps more accurately, rededication) of the temple after it was polluted by the Greek ruler Antiochus IV a little over 150 years before Jesus was born. There was a revolt against the Greeks led by a Jewish man named Judas Maccabaeus. Under his leadership, the pagan ruler and their disgusting worship was kicked out of Jerusalem and the worship of the true God—as God had commanded—was restored. It was (and continues to be) a significant moment and thus a significant celebration on the Jewish worship calendar.

So, in the context of this festival, the Jewish people gathered around Jesus and asked him if he was the Christ, the promised Messiah. The implication seems to be, “Are you, Jesus, going to be another savior like Judas Maccabeaus? Are you going to do for us today what he did back then? Are you going to get rid of the Romans like he got rid of the Greeks?”

Because this was largely the idea of the Messiah that had been warped at this time. Ignoring most of the context of what God had promised through the prophets in the Old Testament, the leaders and the people could often only focus on the here and now and looking for immediate, physical, earthly relief rather than looking for the greater new thing that God had promised—redemption from hell and the forgiveness of sins.

So, you get a sense for the suspense that the Jewish people felt at Jesus’ actions—or lack of action. “How long are you just going to parade around the countryside preaching, teaching, healing, and even raising the dead? When are you going to get to the real Messiah work? When are you going to rescue our nation from these Gentile oppressors?”

When we’re looking for something from God, when our prayers don’t seem to have answers (or at least, not answers that we’re looking for), perhaps we feel similarly to the Jewish people around Jesus in our Gospel. “Jesus, how long will you keep me in suspense? Are you going to heal that illness in my loved one, or in me? Are you going to provide a way out of these financial hardships? Will you solve the political turmoil in my community or our nation? Will you heal that strained relationship or help with those difficulties in school?”

What’s the common theme running through all of those questions? They’re all about the here and now. And that, on its own, is certainly not wrong. In fact, God is very clear that in our distressful days we should call out to him for help and he will deliver us from that trouble, according to his will (see Psalm 50:15). But are these earthly things, these temporal things, the main thing we’re looking for from Jesus? Are they, perhaps, the only thing we’re looking for from him, at least for right now?

If that’s true (and speaking for myself, I can say that this is often true), we have the same flawed understanding of Jesus’ purpose as the people asking him if he was the Christ at the Festival of Dedication, or as even the disciples did at his ascension, asking if he was going to restore the kingdom to Israel now (see Acts 1:6).

Jesus’ response to this question is telling, not only to what was on the people’s minds, but also Jesus’ goals for his people: Jesus answered them, “I did tell you, but you do not believe. The works I am doing in my Father’s name testify about me. But you do not believe, because you are not my sheep, as I said to you. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all. No one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.”

Earlier in John 10 is the main Good Shepherd discourse, where Jesus claims to be the gate for the sheep and the Good Shepherd who tends to their needs. But there, he emphasizes that his work will be primarily seen in laying down his life for the sheep and then taking it back up again (John 10:11, 14-15, 17-18). What we have before us in our Gospel seems to take place after the main discourse, but close enough to it that Jesus is directly referring to it as he calls his people—believers—his sheep. Jesus he says that his sheep know his voice and follow him. And what does Jesus give them first and foremost? Not relief from political turmoil, not a full belly, not a happy life right now. No, Jesus says, “I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand.” “Perish” is a stronger word than “die.” “Perish” is not the opposite of life on earth; it’s the opposite of life in heaven. “Perish” is eternal condemnation in hell. Jesus is using the same wording that he used earlier in his ministry when he taught Nicodemus at night, assuring him, “God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him” (John 3:16-17).

When we hear those comforting words of Psalm 23, that the LORD, our Shepherd, leads us to those quiet waters, allows us to graze on those nutritious pastures, cares for us so that we lack nothing, we do well to let the rest of the psalm explain the metaphor. David wrote that by doing this, “He restores my soul. He guides me in path of righteousness for his name’s sake. … Surely goodness and mercy will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the LORD forever” (Psalm 23:3, 6). God is our shepherd through this life, yes, but the ultimate goal is eternal life. It’s not comfort now for a brief time, it’s comfort for eternity. That’s what Jesus came to accomplish, what Jesus came to give, and what his victory means for us. “…not perish, but have eternal life…”

So Jesus is redirecting the crowd at the festival, and you and me along with them, to look beyond the troubles, hardships, and difficulties of this life and see what he has accomplished for us. Those troubles will feel like God has left us, or at least isn’t particularly concerned about this thing that is so important to us right now. Those moments and those heavy situations can feel like we’re living in complete suspense in God’s narrative here; how will any of this turn out?! But God’s concern for you and me is greater than today; his concern for us is for eternity.

Jesus promises that as our Good Shepherd, we sheep are perfectly safe with him, are perfectly safe with the Triune God who is unified in this purpose to save us from our sin and bring us to himself in heaven: I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all. No one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.

I almost wonder if the apostle Paul had these words and promises from Jesus in his mind as he penned those tremendously comforting words at the end of Romans chapter 8 by inspiration of the Holy Spirit: What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will trouble or distress or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? … No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor rulers, neither things present nor things to come, nor powerful forces, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:35, 37–39).

Dear Christian, your Savior has you safe in his hand. Your Shepherd is there by your side, guiding you to those places where you need to be so that you will eventually be in that place where you will always be—before his face forever in the perfection of heaven. Is Jesus keeping you in suspense? Maybe a little bit. But while the suspense you might feel about how this thing or that thing will turn our is real, he has brought clarity to the greatest conflict and greatest need that you gave:  your sin is gone, paid for at the cross and proved by his empty tomb—yes, even that sin of being too earthly-focused and not enough eternally-focused. Nothing can pull you out of our Shepherd’s hand.

Rest easy, dear fellow sheep. 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.

"Jesus Is Sending Us!" (Sermon on John 20:19-31) | April 27, 2025

Sermon Text: John 20:19-31
Date: April 27, 2025
Event: The Second Sunday of Easter, Year C

John 20:19-31 (EHV)

On the evening of that first day of the week, the disciples were together behind locked doors because of their fear of the Jews. Jesus came, stood among them, and said to them, “Peace be with you!” 20After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. So the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.

21Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you! Just as the Father has sent me, I am also sending you.” 22After saying this, he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. 23Whenever you forgive people’s sins, they are forgiven. Whenever you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”

24But Thomas, one of the Twelve, the one called the Twin, was not with them when Jesus came. 25So the other disciples kept telling him, “We have seen the Lord!”

But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands, and put my finger into the mark of the nails, and put my hand into his side, I will never believe.”

26After eight days, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them. “Peace be with you,” he said. 27Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and look at my hands. Take your hand and put it into my side. Do not continue to doubt, but believe.”

28Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!”

29Jesus said to him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

30Jesus, in the presence of his disciples, did many other miraculous signs that are not written in this book. 31But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

Jesus Is Sending Us!

How do you climb a mountain? On an incredibly basic level, you do so one step at a time. How do you write that long essay for school? One sentence at a time. How do you have that difficult conversation? One thought at a time. If you’re going to be ridiculous, how do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. Breaking down a big project into smaller pieces can really help the paralysis that can set in when we’re overwhelmed by what’s in front of us. A project that might take tens or even hundreds of hours to complete probably seems less daunting if you take it in 20-minute chunks.

The task Jesus had placed before his disciples must have seemed like the biggest mountain to climb or the biggest elephant to be eaten: taking the gospel's message to the ends of the earth. The reality is that Christians are still embarking on this task to this day, a job that is not yet complete some 2,000 years later.

Our Gospel this morning is a familiar account taking place on Easter evening and then spilling into the following days. At the start of our reading, we meet up with the disciples on the evening of that first Easter Sunday. Now, what has happened already? The women (Luke 24:1-5), as well as Peter and John, found the tomb empty (Luke 24:12; John 20:3-10). Angels spoke to the women (Matthew 28:5-7; Luke 24:5-11). Jesus appeared to the women (Matthew 27:8-10), with special, individual appearances to Mary Magdalene (John 21:11-18) and to Peter (Luke 24:34; 1 Corinthians 15:5). Jesus also appeared to two of his followers as they walked the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus that first Easter afternoon and explained the Old Testament promises about the Savior’s work to them (Luke 24:15-31).

That’s a lot. All of this evidence and these appearances pair with the very specific teaching Jesus had been doing with his disciples when he told them over and over again: “We are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written by the prophets about the Son of Man will be fulfilled. He will be delivered over to the Gentiles. They will mock him, insult him and spit on him; they will flog him and kill him. On the third day he will rise again.” (Luke 18:31-33). So, combine all of that together and we might well assume that by that first Easter evening, the disciples would be sprinting through the streets of Jerusalem, shouting, “Jesus is risen! He is risen indeed!” We could imagine a scene much like the shepherds after they saw the then newborn Jesus in the manger, sharing with everyone who would listen what they had heard, seen, and knew to be true.

But that’s not the scene we have in front of us in our Gospel. On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders... I suppose it’s good that they were at least together, rather than scattered to the four winds like they were after Jesus’ arrest in Gethsemane. But this is not a group ready to proclaim the gospel, ready to be Jesus’ witnesses. This group of people is uncertain about what has happened, fearful of what will happen, and generally in distress. The greatest miracle that ever has or ever will take place has been proven at the empty tomb, and no one is going out and sharing. Of the global population at that time, hardly anyone knew what happened. Even among those just in Jerusalem, only a small fraction know what has occurred over the last three days.

So Jesus, acting much more like God than they had seen over the last three years, just shows up in the locked room among them with no need for a key or an opened door. Presenting himself among this group, he said, “Peace be with you!” After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord. It is notable that he doesn’t scold them for sitting in their make-shift fortress, trying to hide from the world. He doesn’t rebuke them for their weak faith. No, this evening and the weeks ahead will be all about assuring this group that he really is alive and helping them to understand what his resurrection means for them and for all people.

But Jesus, even this first Easter evening, doesn’t leave it there. What he shares next are words of commissioning, words of purpose, reminders of the work to be done: ““Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”

It's subtle, but there is a bit of a rebuke here. “Hey, guys, this is not the plan, to be he huddled together in fear. You need to go out there, into the world, and tell people what has happened. Notably, you need to tell people about the forgiveness of sins—both comforting the repentant and warning the unrepentant.” Seeing the proof that Jesus was alive and the gift of the Spirit breathed onto them seem to have been enough to change their fear into joy, even if they weren’t quite ready to shout this gospel from the rooftops.

But one of their number was missing that day: Thomas. And boy, do I think Thomas gets a bad rap. Thomas doesn’t look for much besides what the other disciples had that first evening. They saw his hands and side that night, and Thomas wants the same. Of course Thomas doubts while the rest believe—the rest got to see him already!

But there is something for us to consider here. Thomas would not believe based on the eyewitness accounts, of the message of the fulfilled promise in the mouths of his friends and colleagues. He had to see for himself. And so Jesus, ever patient, does exactly that. “Put your finger here…” But then Jesus says something astounding: “Because you have seen me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

Over the next several weeks, Jesus will make repeat appearances to the disciples and, we’re told, over 500 other people. Later, he will appear to the apostle Paul to prove his resurrection. But the number of people who will actually see Jesus alive and still bearing those tell-tale marks of his death will be tiny. Right from the start, the disciples will be witnesses of this resurrection to many people who had not seen the risen Christ with their own eyes. Thinking of that first Christian Pentecost day that is not so far away from these appearances, three thousand would believe on that day alone based on the Word of God shared by the disciples. Few, if any, of that group would have seen Jesus alive and well after his crucifixion. And how much less once the gospel goes beyond Jerusalem and the region of Judea on its way to the ends of the earth!

And so this gospel message has traveled across time and nation, to reach even us here today. Even in this “post-Christian” era that we are living in in our nation or our culture, still the Word does not pass away nor does it return to God empty. Fewer and fewer people in our nation believe in Jesus as their Savior—but there is always a remnant, and for that we can rejoice. All the more that we are part of that remnant!

But that also means we have a lot of work to do, right? A daunting mountain sits in front of us, waiting to be climbed. You have the message that many people, in ignorance, are going on without. They don’t know their Savior; they might even be suppressing the natural knowledge that there is even a God at all. You cannot drag Jesus along with you, to have everyone put their hands in those clefts left in his body. But you do take the powerful message of the gospel, through which God promises to work. And it doesn’t matter what someone’s heart is like or what the culture around us says about these notions of sin and forgiveness, death and life, hell and heaven. “Just as the Father has sent me,” Jesus says to us, “I am sending you.”

How’s that going? Oh, this might be the moment in the sermon where few want to make eye contact. Are you happy with how you have served as a witness for Jesus? Are you happy with how you have shared him in your day-to-day life, both in how you’ve lived your life and how you have directly witnessed about him? I can assure you that my answer to that question is a resounding, “No!” And this work, ostensibly, is my full-time job.

So, let’s talk about it. What things get in the way of us going as Jesus has sent us? What seems to be the unclimbable mountain or the uneatable elephant? What things get in our way when we think of sharing our faith or inviting someone to hear what God has done? We saw examples in both the disciples collectively and Thomas specifically of internal factors causing a relatively slow start to this work; fear and doubt got in the way. Is the same true for us? What is it inside of you and inside of me that would lead us to be unwilling or feel unable to do the work Jesus has sent us to do—to be his witnesses to the world?

Fear can envelop a lot of what stands in our way. Maybe not exactly the same fear that the disciples had that first Easter evening—that they might be arrested and crucified just like Jesus—but still, there’s plenty for us to fear. I might be afraid I’ll get something wrong or not have the answers someone wants. I might be afraid that sharing my faith—even an innocuous invitation to worship or some other church event—might be taken the wrong way and cause irreparable damage in my relationship with the other person. I might be afraid of what people will think about me if they know how important my faith, my Savior, is to me. I might be afraid of standing out and being different in a world where like-mindedness is often praised as a virtue and disagreement with the cultural norms is likely to have a sweeping, negative impact.

Quite frankly, all of those fears are rational and even reasonable. The true Christian faith, no matter how “Christian” a society might appear, is always counter-cultural, because it runs afoul of the way we think by nature. By nature, we think that we’re doing our best and that will hopefully be good enough. By nature, we think that some good on our part should eliminate some bad that we have done. By nature, we think we can work our way back into God’s good graces through a life well-lived.

But all of those thoughts die when we meet God’s truth head-on. The message of sin and the need of a Savior means that we are not enough on our own—truly, that we are worthless in this task. No one wants to hear that. Not the cold-call canvassing recipient, not the friend who knows you well, not the first-time visitor to the church, not the person who has been a Christian for decades, not you, not me.

But we are not here to say what people want to hear. Jesus is not sending us out to scratch people’s itchy ears; he’s sending us out with the truth. My like or dislike of this message, my faith or doubt in what it says, changes nothing about its truth and importance.

And John underscores at the end of this Gospel just what this message means and does. These are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name. God works through his Word, recorded in the pages of Scripture and, yes, even stammering and wandering out of our mouths to produce faith in the heart of others and to strengthen the faith of our fellow believers. As Jesus did for the disciples in that locked room, so he gives you the gift of the Holy Spirit—the peace beyond all understanding through faith in him. Your sins are forgiven, you will live eternally with him in perfection; this is a gift for all people.

So, how do you be Jesus’ witness? How do you climb that impossible-feeling mountain? One God-empowered word at a time. One person at a time. One invitation at a time. And much like the steep trail up that imposing hill, it won’t be long before you look back and realize what progress you’ve made, or more accurately, what progress God has made through you.

My dear brothers and sisters, Jesus is sending you! Don’t be afraid, don’t let doubt paralyze you. Instead, share this message in every way and at every opportunity that God presents to you. Tell that person about your faith; invite them to church with you; live your life to glorify your Savior. You have the greatest message in the world to share, a message that means life in his name. 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.

"This Mortal Body MUST Put On Immortality" (Sermon on 1 Corinthinas 15:51-57) | April 20, 2025

Sermon Text: 1 Corinthians 15:51-57
Date: April 20, 2025

Event: The Resurrection of Our Lord (Easter Day), Year C

1 Corinthians 15:51-57 (EHV)

Look, I tell you a mystery. We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed, 52in a moment, in the blink of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. 53For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality. 54But once this perishable body has put on imperishability, and this mortal body has put on immortality, then what is written will be fulfilled:

Death is swallowed up in victory.
55Death, where is your sting?
Grave, where is your victory?

56The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!

This Mortal Body MUST Put On Immortality

It’s rarely a good idea to speak in absolutes. “This always happens…” “Every time…” “Never, ever…” All of those phrases are hyperbole. When working on a project, and it’s not quite working the way I had hoped, I’ve been known to utter the phrase, “Nothing ever works!” But is that true? Even in the moment, is that accurate? Probably not.

But this morning, my brothers and sisters, this morning is different. This morning is all about absolutes—absolute victory, absolute salvation, absolute confidence. And in quite a reversal, it would be deceptive not to speak in absolutes about what is going on around us today. Such language would hide the truth. Today is the certainty of all certainties. Today, our faith is not hyperbolic but trusting the reality of what God has done.

Let’s step back for a moment and get our bearings. How did we get to this morning? Why are we here? To answer that, we have to go all the way back to the beginning, to the creation of the world—the universe—at God’s command. God created human beings as the crown of his creation; everything else was in service to them, and they enjoyed fellowship and harmony with him. God made everything around us to facilitate that special relationship with human beings. Thus, they were created in his image, to see eye-to-eye with him.

This was the design. No sorrow, no sickness, no pain, no death—just a perfect life with God forever. And that was what our first parents experienced, until they didn’t.

God gave Adam and Eve all the blessings of the world, including tasks to do in tending to the created order around them. God even gave them an altar, a way to worship him and thank him. He had given them everything, and their way to say thank you was simply to not eat fruit from one specific tree in the garden where they lived.

However, God didn’t create robots who were programmed to only do as they were told. What truly loving relationship has ever come about by compulsion? That’s not the way that works. So, in order to truly express their love for God they had to be able to choose to not show that love, to be free to rebel against him, to be free to sin.

And that’s exactly what happened. Satan warped the singular command of not eating from that tree into a curse rather than seeing it as the blessing it was. Eve and Adam were convinced that eating from this tree would actually be good. It would open their eyes and give them wisdom and understanding that they lacked. It would bring them into a world of experiences that God had kept from them. So they took, and they ate.

God had warned Adam that sin against this command would result in death. And so it happened that day. They instantly died spiritually. Where there had been loving harmony with God was now replaced with terror. And suddenly, the creation designed to endure forever was subject to decay and death. Adam and Eve’s lives would have an endpoint; they would die physically, as a consequence of their sin.

But that was not the truly terrifying death that God was talking about. The true punishment for sin was not spiritual death or physical death but eternal death in hell. Hell is being cut off from all the blessings of God, something no human being in this life has ever known. Even the most adamant enemy of God still benefits from his blessings in this life; even the person in the most dire of situations has some shine of God’s physical concern for him, even if it’s very difficult to see. But in hell, that comes to an end. Separation from God is the punishment, and it's worse than anything you and I could ever imagine.

Knowing God’s heart and God’s purpose for creating the world, especially human beings, it’s perhaps not surprising that this was not what God wanted for mankind. So right there in the Garden of Eden, right there at the site of the first sin, before God even gets into the consequences of their actions with Adam and Eve, the first thing that God says concerning them is a promise of a Savior, a Champion who would crush Satan’s head and fix everything that was broken.

Throughout the intervening centuries and millennia, God slowly revealed details about who this Savior would be and what he would do. From Abraham’s family, then narrowed down to Judah, then down to the line of King David. Born in Bethlehem, David’s city. And, as we heard on Friday night from the prophet Isaiah, one who would suffer a grievous punishment at the hands of the loving God because of mankind’s—our—sin.

And so it happened on that first Good Friday. Jesus was sentenced to death by crucifixion by Pontius Pilate because of his fear of a riot if he didn’t comply. But the focus there was not on the travesty of justice that such a condemnation was. This would be the tool, the way that God would make good on his promises. In this death, Jesus, true God and true man, would take on the sins of the world.

So the true suffering of Good Friday was not the scourge, thorny crown, nails, or even slow suffocation and dehydration. No, the true suffering of Good Friday was when God treated Jesus as if he were the only one who had ever sinned. There, Jesus was the only person in this life to truly experience hell, being abandoned by God. We can hear this agony as he quotes Psalm 22 from the cross, “My God, why have you forsaken me?” But it’s not really a question seeking an answer. Jesus knows the answer, and so do we. That hell, that abandonment, that was what we deserved. And God, in his mercy, pours it out on Jesus instead of us. Jesus, in his mercy, willingly and lovingly takes it on himself.

But none of this was really clear at the cross. Jesus’ death doesn’t look like a victory, even though it was. In fact, it looks very much like a defeat. To the uninformed and unenlightened, it just looks like a guy who got a raw deal and lost his life because of it. It’s not clear that this was the payment for sin, nor is it clear that it worked.

Which brings us to this morning, and why Easter is the highest festival of the Christian faith. Our faith is built on Jesus as the only and complete Savior from sin. And Easter is the proof that he is. If Jesus had stayed dead, his death would have been the same as every other person’s death. Good Friday would have been a tragedy and nothing more. But through the lens of the empty tomb, we can see the cross for what it truly is: the victory over sin, death, and hell.

Jesus’ physical resurrection from the dead is proof beyond a shadow of a doubt that your sins are forgiven, that eternal life rather than eternal death waits for you after this life. This confidence is what Paul is building on in our second reading this morning. 1 Corinthians 15 has been nicknamed the “Great Resurrection Chapter” of the Bible because Paul spends so much time discussing the importance of Jesus’ resurrection. Earlier in the chapter, he focuses on the necessity of it, and how if Jesus hadn’t risen from the dead, our faith in him would be futile because it would mean that we were still in our sins.

But having established that Jesus did, in fact, rise from the dead, Paul stresses the results of Jesus’ resurrection in our reading for this morning—namely, our own resurrection from the dead at the end.

Paul simply describes the Last Day this way: Look, I tell you a mystery. We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the blink of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. At Jesus’ return, the final trumpet will fill the air, and all those who have died will be raised to life. And for the believers in Jesus, a great change will happen. The dead will be raised imperishable. What had been the very definition of perishable—corpses in the ground—will be raised in a completely different state from how they were placed there.

Paul stresses not just that it’s going to happen, but speaks in absolute terms that it is absoultely necessary that this happen, “For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality.” Why is this necessary? Because this is the result of Jesus’ victory over sin, death, and hell. Death was the result of sin. Now that sin is undone and we have been forgiven, the grave has no claim on any of us, just as it had no claim on Jesus. The resurrection of the dead is just as much a natural outcome of Jesus’ death and resurrection as a quenched thirst is the natural outcome of cool drink of water on a hot day. It is inevitable relief and rescue. And nothing can change that.

Death has such an enormous impact on our lives. We lose cherished house plants, beloved pets, and most severely, our loved ones who have departed before us. It feels like the sole thing that is absolute and inevitable in this life is death. But Jesus’ resurrection brings confidence that allows us to even turn on death itself with disdain and ridicule. Paul does just that as he quotes from the prophets Isaiah and Hosea: Death is swallowed up in victory. Death, where is your sting? Grave, where is your victory? Because of Jesus’ resurrection, we can laugh death right in the face. This bully, who has tormented this world since the first sin, has been defeated. Death flees at the very sight of our victorious Savior. Not so tough now, are you, death?

Paul explains the mechanics of all this: The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ! The law results in sin for us because we cannot keep it perfectly; sin results in death as the punishment for our disobedience. But Jesus not only wiped out every sin we’ve ever committed at the cross, but he gives us his perfect life; he credits his perfection to our account so that, from God’s perspective, you and I are perfect. We have everything we need to enter eternal life. And not an ounce of it came from us; it all comes from Jesus and his loving work in our place!

Because of Jesus, your mortality must put on immortality, your perishable self must be wrapped in the imperishable. That is the meaning of the cross and the empty tomb—eternal, perfect life with our God forever, when God finally calls us out of this corrupted world of sickness, sorrow, and pain.

There is no question that this will happen; the empty tomb proves the promise! I think Jesus probably said it the best—simple and to the point, “I will not leave you as orphans. … Because I live, you also will live” (John 14:18-19). 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.