Sunday, November 3, 2019

The Feast of All Saints

Alleluia Verse & Proper Preface: Hebrews 12:1–2


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

Most of you know the Lord recently took my grandpa to rest in the arms of Jesus to await the resurrection of the dead. I gave a little speech about him before the funeral lunch, and I’d like to share one thing about him with all of you. My grandpa was baptized and confirmed on the same day, when he was 16. He didn’t grow up as a child in the church. He started attending with neighbors as a teenager. And after being instructed, he joined the Lutheran Church. He wasn’t born into it. He did it on purpose, because of the conviction he had. He did it because the Gospel won him over. Of course, this doesn’t mean you have to have some kind of special conversion. I wouldn’t even say that my grandpa did. He came to it gradually, by coming to church and learning. But what I’ve come to realize recently is that I was blessed to be born into the Lutheran Church, in large part because of him. So far as we know, he was the first in our family to become Lutheran. He joined the church, raised his family in the church, including my Mom. And then after my Dad joined, they raised me. I never had to do the hard work of choosing a church, deciding to join a church. And that’s okay, in fact it’s really good to be born and raised in the Church. So, I thank God for that gift, and I’m also very grateful to my grandpa.
      I tell you all this, not because my family is special in any way, but because whether you were blessed to join the church later in life or you were blessed to be born into it like me, either way, it takes conviction to be a Christian. That’s really what we remember on All Saints’ Day: not just the people who have died, but their conviction, their faith.
      Christian faith is trust in the promises God has made through Jesus Christ. It’s not wishful thinking. It’s not a passing feeling. It’s not a blind leap. It’s conviction. It’s certainty. God’s Word is trustworthy… God never lies… He remains faithful for He cannot deny Himself (Titus 1:2; 2 Tim. 2:11–13). So, however you became a Christian, it means you hold this conviction: that Jesus Christ, true God and man, is the Lord; that He died and shed His blood for the world; that in Him there is forgiveness of sins; and that He is risen from the dead, so there is resurrection and immortality for all who trust Him. This is most certainly true.
      But to hold on to this conviction is not the easiest thing. It’s far easier to let it slip away, and drift back into the way of this world, back into the thinking of the devil, back into sin and death. Christian conviction requires some effort, some grit. This is why St. Paul calls the Christian faith a good fight, and a race. When he’s about to die, Paul writes to Timothy who was like a son to him, and he urges Timothy to not give up. As for himself, he says, the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved His appearing (2 Tim. 4:6–8).
      So, hold on to your Christian conviction. Fight the good fight. Finish the race. Keep the faith. Because this conviction gives eternal life. Jesus has a crown of victory prepared for you. And so, whether you were born and raised in the Church or you joined in later, continue in it on purpose. Go forward with determination. This faith is going to ask a lot of you: stamina, patience, endurance. This conviction is not a quick sprint. This race is cross–country.
      The author of Hebrews also calls the Christian faith a race. We heard part of this in the Alleluia Verse, and we’ll hear more of it in the proper preface for Holy Communion. From Hebrews 12: Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God (12:1–2).
  While running this race, we look to Jesus who went before us. He ran this course in joy, even enduring the cross so that we would not be punished for our sin, but saved by His holy precious blood and by His innocent suffering and death. Risen from the dead, He made the way for us, flinging wide open heaven’s door at the finish line. He began this race for us—He is the founder of our faith. And He finished this race for us—He is the perfecter of our faith. All that remains for us is to chase after Him. So many others have already followed after Him, having gone on before us and finished their course. We especially remember them on All Saints’ Day: that great cloud of witnesses, that arena of saints who have already competed and received their eternal reward.
      I know many of you have been to cross–country meets. That is the analogy the Bible gives us for the Christian faith. It’s not a short race. And there are parts of the course where you’re almost alone. Maybe you’ve fallen behind the pack. And along some parts there are very few spectators to cheer you on. And there comes another hill (or the same hill for the third time), and you wonder if you can go on. At times it might feel like each step is going to be your last. Yet you keep pushing on—one more step and then another.
      It’s not hard to match this up with spiritual struggle is it? You feel alone, not sure who to turn to, and maybe you’re facing the same temptation you’ve been dealing with for years. You wonder if you can go on, even while, somehow, God be praised, you do. He gives His Spirit. He gives His grace. And it’s enough.
      So the author of Hebrews wants to remind us in this race, that we are not alone. We are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. And sometimes along the course, we can hear people cheering, urging us on. It puts a little new life in our limbs.
      And when the fight is fierce, the warfare long,
      Steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
      And hearts are brave again, and arms are strong. (LSB 677:5)
All the saints are one in Christ and death cannot separate us. The faith that binds us together keeps us so close, it’s as if we can hear those dearly departed already singing the song of heaven. So also, we pray to God in today’s proper preface: In the communion of all Your saints gathered into the one body of Your Son, You have surrounded us with so great a cloud of witnesses that we, encourage by their faith and strengthened by their fellowship, may run with perseverance the race that is set before us and, together with them, receive the crown of glory that does not fade away. We remember the saints gone before us who have already finished the race, not only because we love them, but also because they encourage us. For we are all one in Christ.
      So imagine, if you will, you’re running this race called the Christian faith, and these are the faces you see, cheering you on along the course. First, you spot your loved ones who have gone before you: maybe a grandpa or grandma, a dad or mom, or a child. They’re smiling and shouting: “You’re almost there! You’re going to make it.” Then maybe you see the pastor who baptized you: “Keep going!” he says, “Don’t give up!” And pretty soon you see other faces you’ve never met in this life but somehow you know them anyway. There’s Martin Luther.  There’s St. Augustine—famous teachers of the church cheering for you! And a little farther on you spot St. James, Jesus’ brother—he’s calling out: Count it all joy… when you meet trials of various kinds (James 1:2). St. Peter is next to him waving his arms, yelling: Rejoice… as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when His glory is revealed (1 Peter 4:13). And there’s St. Paul, jumping up and down with the enthusiasm of a little child, shouting: To live is Christ, and to die is gain! (Philippians 1:21).
      And so, surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, you look ahead… And there before you is Jesus, the founder and perfecter of your faith. His arms are open wide ready to catch you as you stumble across the finish line, collapsing into Him, finally finished, at peace. You can rest.
      Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord… that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow them! (Rev. 14:13).

In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.

Preached at Trinity, Clinton, IA & Immanuel, Charlotte, IA

The concluding race and cheering spectators imagery came from Rev. Brian Wolfmueller