Intro Many of you have attended funerals. If not, unless the Lord returns before you die, you will attend your own. We have funerals because someone dies. Friends lose friends. Wives lose their husbands. Husbands lose their wives. Children lose their parents. And in some of the most-painful losses of all, parents lose their children.
Every time a death occurs, an undying change takes place in the lives and routines of those who mourn that death. Life simply cannot be the same, as it was before the death of someone you love. For here on this earth we carry one another to the grave. We feel that loss into the marrow of our bones. Yet life still lumbers one, even if it seems but a series of continuous, unstoppable funerals. The earth is its unending graveyard. And we sons of Adam and daughters of Eve trudge on in this long, funeral procession. We don’t simply follow the dead when we walk behind a coffin--we carry death in ourselves and descend into our own graves. Such is this life in this fallen world. Main Body But sadness of all sadness: how the widow of Nain tasted the bitter bile of death! Death, that misshapen creature, had already devoured her beloved husband. And now it had just swallowed her one-and-only son. As she trudged behind that coffin that day, she just knew that death would have the final laugh. She knew that she was also walking into that same darkness, that same grave. But that day an outburst of life shook the doorposts of death to its musty foundations. Two processions faced each other down: The procession of Life--Jesus and His followers--and a sad, sorrowful procession of death. Jesus and His disciples had flanked this funeral procession just as it was heading for the graveside. Their grief was thick. The air was hard to breath. For the widow of Nain had not only buried her husband, but now was taking her only son to the grave. How could she climb out of that double pit of despair? Who would care for her in that day of no social security? Who would provide for her when her sons were her only life-insurance policy? Death, that coarse and unkindly enemy, had robbed her twice. First it was her husband, and now it was her only son. Such pain, such grief, and such helplessness, such anger and despair--oh, the endless nights of weeping that would not end with the burial. Yet, Jesus seems distracted. He goes to face down the enemy of death. But then His attention is drawn elsewhere. The forces of death are now surrounding Him on all sides, and yet that isn’t His main concern. For Jesus’ eyes are welling up with tears. Jesus sees the mother’s anguish, and compassion stirs deep within Him, a compassion that He will not contain. He then speaks His consoling, compassionate Word, the Word that only the Word Incarnate can speak to its fullest meaning: “Weep no more.” With Jesus, His words come with power, God’s power. He goes to the open coffin and touches it. He is calm, determined, staring death in the face. It’s only after consoling the mother that Jesus then faces down death to do His life-giving deed. God the Father had sent Jesus into this world because of the Father’s love for us, for His heart was breaking at the brokenness of our lives. Even though we were the ones who brought death into the world through our disobedience, Jesus came to deal with it, to destroy it for us. And so a compassion moved deeply within Him, a compassion that will, in the end, forever destroy the darkness of death for us all. The pallbearers stop dead in their tracks. Jesus shows them how He can dare to speak His words. He speaks, and His voice pierces into the unforgiving dungeon of death. He speaks and says, “Young man, I say to you, arise.” One little word from Jesus, “Arise,” and that’s what happens. The man gets up. Yes, Jesus shows to all how He can dare to speak His resurrection Word. But then something odd happens. The people became fearful. Our text says that “fear gripped everyone.” You’d think they would’ve immediately jumped for joy. But that’s not what happened. If this Jesus has the power to give life, then He must have the power to take life. And so fear gripped everyone. What does this bringing back the boy from the dead mean? Will this giver of life now kill the boy? Will He now kill us? If He can give life by speaking a word, then He can take life by a word. Surely He saw what we thought Him. As He made His way toward us, we thought that He was just another homeless vagrant. Surely, our sullied minds, our selfishness, and our arrogance must have disgusted this man who is so holy that He can bring back the dead! The fear that first fell over the people at the funeral was the fear of God. It was a fear deeper than “respect” or “awe.” That’s how we often water down what the fear of God means. Yet, like the people who saw the One who gives life, we too should be overcome with fear. This doesn’t mean that we should simply respect His power. It means that we should fear His threats of punishment, knowing that we deserve them and that they are terrible and eternal. When we consider how we’ve broken His commandments, how we’ve gossiped, lusted, lied, and coveted, we should be afraid. We gossip about people we know. We enjoy the grace and forgiveness of friends who put up with us--even though we betray them. None of us could even look our spouses in the eyes if they could read our thoughts. Oh, how close we’ve stood to the edge. Oh, how often we’ve played with fire. We’ve dangled our hands in the cutting blade and have become none the wiser. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. The comfort our Lord speaks is for those who fear Him, who feel their sins, for those who repent. Something is amiss if we mistake our Lord’s mercy as weakness, or His grace as an obligation to us. Something is amiss if we care little about our sins because, after all, we are forgiven. We’ve taken the Lord’s mercy for granted. We’ve said, “I believe in a God of grace.” We’ve bent His Word and Law to fit our own ideas. We’ve not been afraid of God’s wrath but, instead, acted like entitled, spoiled children. We’ve been more afraid of what others think of us than what God’s wrath will do to us. Consider the power of God and His perfection. Flee from your sins. Then, and only then, do you “weep no more.” It’s then that you flee to His mercy. It’s then that you rejoice that Jesus comes in peace, with mercy and healing, and that it’s compassion that moves Him, not revenge. And realize also that His ways are not our ways. For as far as we know, Jesus interrupted no other funeral procession since the one in Nain. And so we bury our dead. And so we wait, in faith, for the resurrection to come. Do not be deaf to the thunder of the Law, to its threats. For we should fear God’s wrath. Death is the wages of sin, and is extracted from us every day. But this death is not stronger than the voice of Jesus. Faith not only leads us to repent, but it also leads us to Jesus’ Spirit-filled, life-bestowing breath. And faith lives in both. Death is, indeed, forced to give up its prey when Jesus commands it to be so. Look at what happened at the funeral after fear had taken hold: Their fear gave way to joy. Instead of ending where most funerals end, with tears of sadness, that funeral ended with tears of joy and worship. People glorified God and told one another that a great prophet has arisen and that God has visited His people. Think of what that means for death, your death. No more so should death enslave you in its fear. For you trust in the redeeming One, Jesus. You’ve been baptized into Him and you’ve been fed His immortal body and blood. And He will rouse your body from the sleep of death on the Last Day. Then you will open your eyes to see your Redeemer face to face, just like that young man did when Jesus took him by the hand and gave him to his mother. What then is there to fear about death? Conclusion Jesus has conquered death. How then can we not be glorifying and praising God? How can we not be worshiping, singing, and telling everyone that in Jesus we have met the One who alone stops the sad funeral procession of human existence and changes it into a procession of life? For Christ is risen from the dead, and lives and reigns to all eternity. And that means that you will too. Thanks be to God that this is most certainly true. Amen. -- Rich Futrell, Pastor Shepherd of the Hills Lutheran Church, Kimberling City, MO Where we are to receive and confess the faith of the Church (in and with the Augsburg Confession): The faith once delivered to the saints, the faith of Christ Jesus, His Word of the Gospel, His full forgiveness of sins, His flesh and blood given and poured out for us, and His gracious gift of life for body, soul, and spirit. ___________________________________________________________________ 'CAT 41 Sermons & Devotions' consists of works that are, unless otherwise noted, the copyrighted property of the various authors; posting of such gives members of this list implied consent for redistribution _with_attribution_ unless otherwise specified by the author (as long as no charge is made for the work and it is not made part of a compilation), as well as for quoting or use in a congregational setting _with_or_without_attribution_. Note: This list's default reply is to the *poster*, NOT the list. Do *not* reply to the list with your comments, but to the poster. Subscribe? Send ANY note to: [email protected] Unsubscribe? Send ANY note to: [email protected] Archive? <http://www.mail-archive.com/[email protected]/> For more information on this or other lists offered by Confess And Teach For Unity, you can contact the CAT 41 list administrator at: Rev. Fr. Eric J. Stefanski <MoM [at] lists (dot) cat41 <dot> org>
