Sermon - Easter Sunday - Luke 24:1-12

Luke 24:1-12

Christ is Risen!  (He is risen indeed, Alleluia!)

At dawn, the women arrive.  They’ve got their burial spices.  They’re ready for the grim task ahead of them.  They remember the place.  They saw the body laid there just a couple days ago, and the stone that shut the grave tight.  But now, the stone is rolled back.  The grave is open.  What’s going on?  They go inside.

And what they find there – rather what they don’t find there – is the body of Jesus.  Just the grave cloths.  They are, Luke tells us, perplexed.  At a loss.  They don’t know what to make of it.

I suppose they could have jumped to the wrong conclusion.  That someone stole the body.  That maybe they got the wrong tomb.  That someone was playing a cruel trick on them.  Or maybe some other earthly explanation.  The evidence was there – if only they could interpret it correctly.  They could have known.  They should have known.

But before they can really piece it together… the roller coaster of Easter emotions takes another turn, as they are startled by the appearance of two men in dazzling white.  Fear knocks them to the ground, as usually happens with angelic appearances.  But these angels don’t even bother with the usual, “Don’t be afraid.”  They have some news to tell.  And it’s as wonderful as it is urgent.

“Why do you seek the living among the dead?  He is not here, but has risen.”

And that’s the heart of it.  The angelic message, let it be our theme today and forever:  “Christ is risen!”  (He is risen indeed, Alleluia!)

A pastor friend of mine with a particular sense of humor preached an Easter sermon once in which he entered the pulpit, greeted the people, “Christ is risen!”  They responded, “He is risen indeed, Alleluia!”, and then he immediately sat down.  End of sermon.  But maybe he had a point.  The simple Easter sentence that Christ is risen is the real gem, the wonderful truth, the blessed and eternal confession of the church. 

Yes, it was real, it really happened.  The women saw the evidence.  But they were still perplexed by it.  Until the angel spoke, and reminded them of Christ’s words – “Don’t you remember?  He told you this would happen.  All the way back in Galilee he was already telling you – the Christ must be handed over to the Jews, he must suffer, and die, and on the third day rise!” And then, only then, did they remember his words.

My friends, life can be perplexing.  It can be a roller coaster of emotions.  It can seem hopeless and confusing, it can lead you to despair.  You could look at all the suffering and death in this world, and in your own life, and jump to the wrong conclusion.  You could think that God has forsaken you.  You could reason that he is angry with you.  You might even be tempted to believe there is no God.  And the devil will gleefully cheer you own down any of these paths.

But just when the fog of life’s troubles and sorrows begin to suffocate you, and choke out life and faith, the dazzling message of Christ breaks through the darkness once again.  When we are perplexed, the Easter good news comes again in words that ring clear, “Christ is Risen!” and we remember.  We remember that it had to be this way.

There had to be a payment for sin.  For your sin and mine.  And Jesus had to pay it.  Only he could do it.  The betrayal, the arrest, the trial, the mocking, spitting, the blows.  The purple robe and crown of thorns, the scourging.  The cries of the crowd to crucify.  The cross.  The agony, the forsaking, the death, the burial.  It all had to be.  It had to be: to fulfill prophecy, for Jesus to accomplish his mission, to do the will of the Father and to procure for us salvation.

But there’s more.  Remember what he said.  The son of man must suffer and die, and on the third day rise!  Don’t forget that part!  It was always the plan, that death would be defeated.  It was always the destiny of Christ to live!  The Holy One would not see corruption, or be abandoned to the grave.  The greater Jonah would burst forth from the belly death.  The one who is the resurrection and the life cannot be contained by death, it couldn’t hold him, it has no power over him.  Christ Jesus lay in death’s strong bands, but he breaks those bands as if they’re made of soggy strips of paper.

The women depart from the tomb.  They go to the 11, and report what they saw and heard.  And you’d think the disciples would rejoice.  But no.  “It seemed to them an idle tale”. 

For too many today, the resurrection of Jesus Christ is an idle tale.  A worthless story.  A meaningless non-event.  They don’t believe it for any number of reasons.

Perhaps it just seems a quaint little story told but one of many religions – just another myth or fairy tale to placate the people – another puff off the opiate of the masses.  Or to some, the resurrection of Christ can’t be real because their god of science forbids it – along with any miracle or spiritual reality outside the bounds of strict materialism.  Still others may simply have hardened hearts – and see no need for a God or a Savior, they have dulled their own conscience along with their own fear of the grave, and thus live in denial of these, our great enemies of sin and death. 

But the words of the women must have had some sway, if only enough to prompt Peter and John to get moving.  To get to the tomb and see.  And when they saw, they marveled, and went home in wonder.  Could it be?  Could it be that he’s really done it after all?

Now, the other relevant texts show us that the disciples were a mess of emotions and a mixture of belief and unbelief in those early days of Easter.  Hiding for fear of the Jews, unsure of themselves and what they should be doing, and yet still holding together and waiting for Jesus’ direction.

As Jesus appeared to them on many occasions, and taught them the meaning of these events, and of his work – they slowly began to comprehend.  He opened the Scriptures to them, and showed them how even the Old Testament made it clear that the Messiah had to suffer, die and rise.

These Easter events are all well and good, and they are true.  But they go hand in hand with the word – the explanation – the proclamation of their meaning.  The women could have seen that Jesus was alive by just looking and seeing no body.  But the word of the angels, really the word given them from above, the Word of God – both confirms it and interprets it and proclaims it as a reality.  That’s why this is not just about what he did, but they tell the women to remember what he said.

Today, we too remember how he said…  and what he said… about his suffering, death and resurrection.  And in a few moments we will receive the resurrected Christ, and also remember his words:  This is my body, this is my blood,  Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins. 

Those early disciples met the living Lord Jesus in the garden, the upper room, on the beach, and in many other appearances.  And we meet him today as he comes to us in his Holy Sacrament.  They saw him and heard him and touched his very wounds.  We see him by faith, and hear his words proclaimed by his servants in our day, but they are still his words, and the promises and blessings are the same.

And the resurrected Christ is with us.  He’s not there in the tomb, but he is here in the bread and the wine.  He’s not there, under the thumb of death, but he is here, with his life-giving gifts.  The tomb is empty, but this Sacrament is full of forgiveness, life and salvation for all who believe.

The resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ is no idle tale.  Instead, it is some of the best news you have ever heard and will ever hear.  But it means nothing if you don’t remember what he said – and see how in this victory over death and hell and devil, Jesus brings you the same victory, and a promise of your own resurrection.  You will rise, because Christ is risen.  You will live, because he lives. Indeed we are more than conquerors, through him who loved us with a love even stronger than death itself. 

Christ is risen!  (He is risen indeed! Alleluia.) Amen.

 

Sermon - 7 Churches of Revelation - Laodicea

(Maundy Thursday)

 Revelation 3:14-22

“Jesus' Letter to Laodicea”

14 “And to the angel of the church in Laodicea write: ‘The words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the beginning of God's creation.

15 “‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! 16 So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. 17 For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. 18 I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see. 19 Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent. 20 Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me. 21 The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne. 22 He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’”

“You are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind and naked. You're so lukewarm, I am going to spew you out of my mouth!” Wow. Some of the harshest words to all of the seven churches, and maybe in all of Holy Scripture, are spoken to the pastor and people at Laodicea.

We've been meditating on those seven letters in this Lenten season, and applying Jesus' words to the seven churches of Revelation – and simultaneously applying them to ourselves. After all, Jesus himself concludes each letter, “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches”. These are open letters, meant for us all to hear.

And Jesus' call to repentance throughout has been clear as well. His condemnation of sin and spiritual weakness, his exhortations and admonitions about false doctrine and toleration of sin, lack of love and fear of persecution. All these are warnings we do well to take seriously.

But what a picture of disgust, the idea that we are so wretched and distasteful to him in our sin, that he would spit us, spew us out of his mouth.... if we don't repent. Repentance has been the major theme here, hasn't it. A turning away from our sins, and a turning to God in faith. The call to repentance is related to how we are disciplined as his church, as his people.

It would be a mistake for us to say we were “just fine”. It would be wrong of us to say like the church of Laodicea did, that we are “rich, prosperous and need nothing”. In fact, “if we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. But if we confess our sins, God who is faithful and just, will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness”.

But we “say we have no sin” all the time, don't we? Is sin an operative concept for us in daily life outside of church? We live most of our lives, it seems without much thought about what we SHOULD do, and much more thought about what we WANT to do. What feels good, what makes us happy. What makes practical sense at the time. Or maybe we even act without much thought. But we certainly don't often think of our actions as sins, or sinful. Until once in a while, maybe once a week or two, when we come to church and, “oh yeah – I guess I am a sinner after all”.

Lent is all about repentance. The Christian faith is all about repentance. Jesus Christ himself is all about it – as he calls us to a life of on-going repentance.

What a great danger, Jesus here shows us, is apathy. That we would grow so comfortable that we don't care anymore about our sin – don't even see it. We go through life on auto-pilot, never considering fully the true measure of our sinfulness. We take only a shallow glance at the word, rather than a hard look in the mirror of God's law – an examination of ourselves which would show all the warts and imperfections. It's not comfortable to look there. To see ourselves in all our sinful wretchedness. But we must look there first, and look well. Before we can truly see our savior.

We are sometimes neither hot nor cold. If we were, we might be uncomfortable enough to feel the need for our savior. The heat of God's wrath burning down our necks might make us long for the soul-quenching Gospel. The coldness of our hearts might make us yearn for the warmth of his love in Christ. But lukewarm – room temperature? No need, no bother. No thought or care. Just numbness, deadness, apathy.  

Today’s apathetic world even has a new expression for this kind of thing.  Meh!  M-E-H.  A sort of middling so-so, not too good and not so bad.  A sort of verbal interjection of lukewarm-ness.  How was your day?  Meh.  How was dinner?  Meh.  How was the sermon today?

But spiritual “Meh” is no good for Jesus when it comes to faith.  He spews lukewarm apathy out of his mouth in disgust.

Repent, Jesus says. Be zealous and repent! Know the depth of your sin, so you may know the joy of your salvation!

As always in this series, Jesus then makes promises to conclude his letter. He says he's knocking, and if anyone opens the door, he will eat with him. In other words, he's calling for repentance, and if we do, he will surely forgive. And it's interesting that he expresses that forgiveness as “eating with us”. For one of the most powerful ways he bestows his forgiveness to us is in a meal.

This day, Maundy Thursday, we especially consider the meal that Christ has given us. A Holy Supper – unlike any other meal. The food is heavenly – his own body and blood. And its effect is divine – forgiveness, life and salvation. He who would spew unrepentant sinners from his mouth, takes those who repent and feeds us with his own flesh and blood. He puts forgiveness in physical form, into our mouths. There is no more intimate fellowship than this. There is no way to be closer to Jesus, than here at his Supper – where he touches our lips – where he is present for us, given to us.

So, are we apathetic about the Sacrament? Are we neither hot nor cold? When Christ our Lord enthrones himself in bread and wine, and invites us to the feast – is it “just another day”? When God himself comes to you, feeds you, forgives you... is it ever NOT a big deal? 

We repent of our careless and thoughtless reception of your gifts, O Lord. And we thank you that through such gifts, you even forgive such carelessness and thoughtlessness.

And finally in this letter to Laodicea, the promise of a throne. Yes, we know Jesus sits at the right hand of the Father. We know he reigns and rules over all. But to the one who conquers – there is a promise. To the one who believes, the one who is saved, the one who repents and is forgiven - “I will grant him to sit with me on my throne”. We will share in his reign forever. What a promise. What a blessing. There and then we will truly be rich, and prosper, and need nothing.  There’s nothing lukewarm or “meh” about that.

But until then – the life of faith continues. A life of repentance, in which he continually knocks, continually feeds us. Be zealous in your repentance, and even more zealous in your faith! For his promises are great, and they are for you. Given and shed for you... for the forgiveness of your sins. For you... unto life everlasting, Amen.