Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity

St. Luke 7:11–17

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

Don’t let anyone confuse confidence in Christ for naiveté. Don’t let anyone tell you your faith is just weak thinking, false hope, useless wishing. The world stumbles back and forth between two pits. Either they think: death is the end, that’s all there is. So they cling to every moment now, and do whatever it takes to keep on living as long as they can. Or they just parrot a lot of nice sounding, but empty clichés: “Death is just a natural part of life.” “He’s in a better place now.”

A Christian can say that second one: “He’s in a better place now.” But without Christ that phrase is entirely meaningless, utterly useless. In fact, it’s straight-up nihilism—there is no meaning to anything. Let’s just think through what that phrase is really saying. Without Christ and His resurrection, death means nonexistence. So, to say “He’s in a better place now,” without Christ, without His resurrection in view, then it means nonexistence is a better place than this world; not existing is better than this life. If that’s true, you might as well die right now and get it all over with.

Of course, most people don’t want to admit that logical conclusion, so they cover it up with nice sounding clichés, either stealing from Christianity, like “he’s in a better place now,” or “she’s at peace,” without ever mentioning Jesus. Or they borrow from paganism, like “she lives on in our memories,” or “now his spirit is one with nature.” All of that is some weak thinking and useless wishing.

Only Christians are really capable of seeing death for the absolute terror that it is, and at the same time, not being afraid of it. Christians do not wear rose colored glasses or bury their heads in the sand. We know and face head-on the hardship and ugliness of this world. Eternal life with our Lord is not an escape or a coping mechanism. It is the reward for faith in Him.  But while we wait for His reward, we deal with the reality of death. On its own, apart from Christ, death is not good or peaceful or dignified. It is not just another part of life. It is the punishment for sin and the end of life. It is the violent ripping apart of body and soul. 

Sometimes parents have to bury their children. Widows are left alone. Sometimes the cancer comes back. Both drunk drivers and good soldiers can kill innocent victims. Christians recognize that this world is full of death. But only Christians, are really capable of staring death in the face because we know that death is not what God intended for anyone.

For the widow of Nain, it seemed that all hope was lost. She was facing the reality of death, first her husband and now her only son. And no nice-sounding cliché was going to help her. It appeared as though God was against her and had completely abandoned her. Into that ugly and desperate scene, Jesus steps in. And He had compassion on her—not because her son was too young or because it wasn’t fair on her. They were sinners like everyone else. That young man deserved to die. That poor widow deserved to die as well. But it was our Lord’s compassion that brought Him to die for sinners and so destroy death. And so, it was on that basis that He took away the woman’s tears and gave life back to her son.

When the world says, “All is lost. Death is the end,” the Christian always responds, “Not so. Jesus still lives.” Jesus has compassion for sinners and His compassion moves His power for sinners. He raised the widow’s son. And that resurrection was a preview for our own. This miracle proves that for God there is no lasting barrier between death and life. Jesus makes this point Himself in Matthew 22: “Have you not read what was said to you by God: ‘I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’? He is not God of the dead, but of the living” (31–32). So, although Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are dead, with God they are still alive. Although we die, with Him we are not dead. This Scripture and this miracle show us how Christ has power over death, so that in the face of death we may take comfort in Him. We don’t take comfort in the world’s pleasant platitudes and sweet nothings, and we don’t fall into the world’s despair. Death frightens us, but by faith in Christ we are not afraid. Death can scare us, but that’s all it can do to us. 

I may not want to die, but I know I must. So when I think of death, I think about my Savior and what He has done and what He has promised to do for me. My Savior declares: “Death, I shall be the death of you. Grave, I shall be your destruction. You can kill My Christians, but in turn I can throttle you, and call My Christians back to life.” Even though death will take me, one day my Lord will do for me what He did for the widow’s son in Nain. He will say to me, “Anthony, I say to you, arise.” With those powerful words, He will put my body and soul back together. And I will get up and begin to speak and sing and praise My Lord, the God of the living. Those who die are not dead to God. They live in Christ. And He will raise us from the grave as easily as waking us up from sleep.

I still wonder why so many people avoid talking about Jesus, even when they like talking about heaven or life after death. Why do they like talking vaguely about that “better place” when the real, flesh and blood Gospel is so much better? I think it’s because they view God only as the Judge. They think they are saved by being a good person. And if Jesus is not the Savior of sinners, then He is only the Judge. This would mean that you have to get yourself right with God by your deeds, rather than rely on righteousness of Christ. This is a lie from the Devil, and it makes Christ worse than death itself. This is why they are still afraid, even if they pretend not to be. They are still afraid of death and Judgment Day, because they do not know the real Jesus.

But true Christians do know their Savior and they can view death and Judgment Day differently. Are you afraid to die? It’s okay to be honest. It’s good to confess it. Yes, death scares me. But, I am baptized and believe in my Lord Jesus Christ. I eat His immortal body and drink His life-giving blood. He died for my sins, and by His resurrection He has made me right with God. Although I die, yet shall I live.

Death is not our end and God is not our enemy. Christ is not coming to damn us, nor does He offer empty comfort. He is our helper and advocate with the heavenly Father. He is coming to us with compassion, just as He came to the distressed widow and her dead son. He is coming with real comfort for the living and real life for the dead. He is our confident hope, our victory, our life. In Him, I am not afraid.

In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.

Inspired by Martin Luther’s Sermons, Baker, Vol. VII, pp.24–35.

Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity

St. Luke 7:11–17

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

Luther’s great Easter hymn, Christ Jesus Lay in Death’s Strong Bands, has this line that has always fascinated me: It was a strange and dreadful strife when life and death contended (LSB 458:4). That strange and dreadful strife happened over the course of a particular three days. But for some reason I always pair the words of that hymn with this scene outside the village of Nain.

I imagine a country road, just after sunrise, and coming down the road from the town is a funeral procession: mourners and pallbearers dressed in black. Weeping had tarried through the night. The widow kept vigil by her son’s lifeless body. Maybe there were a few other kind women to sit up with her during the long dark hours. But now it was time to go out to the cemetery. And leading the procession I picture Death himself.

Then coming up the road from the opposite direction is quite a different procession. I picture it full of color, laughter, and joy. And leading this procession is the Lord of Life. And then the two processions meet. They stop. It’s as if all creation holds its breath—what will happen? Which one will give way? All you can hear in the still morning air is the soft weeping of the widow. It was a strange and dreadful strife when life and death contended.

But Luther’s Easter hymn and our Scripture reading go on: 
      The victory remained with life, 
      the reign of death was ended. 
      Holy Scripture plainly saith 
      that death is swallowed up by death, 
      its sting is lost forever. Alleluia!
The dreadful silence was broken by the Lord’s strong and compassionate words: Stop weeping. Young man, I say to you, arise.

Most of us have joined in a procession out to the cemetery. Most, except for maybe the very youngest among us, know the pain and tears of losing a loved one. Only some of us know the grief of burying a child. The ordinary progression of things is that children are supposed to bury their parents, not the other way around. I’m not sure if there can be a sharper pain or more bitter tears than that of a parent who has lost their child. Perhaps that has something to do with our Lord’s compassion on this tormented mother. Of all the thousands of people that surely died during Jesus’ three-year ministry, He only raised a handful of them. So, for His own good purposes He came to this grieving woman and showed His compassion to her.

He said to her, Stop weeping. That sounds so offensive to us, helpless people. Can you imagine saying that in the line at the funeral home? But what can we really offer the grieving mother or father? What can we do besides hug them and cry with them? Most of the time, the words we try to muster are woefully inadequate, if not downright unhelpful. As awkward as it might feel, we might actually try just using the words of Scripture the next time we go to a wake.  We might say something like: “He was baptized and God has him in His hands.” Or, “We’ll see her again in the resurrection.” Or something as simple as, “The peace of Jesus be with you.” Our made-up words definitely won’t help, so we might as well speak God’s Word.

Jesus just says, Stop weeping. He says God’s Word. His Word. And He is not being mean—He has compassion on her. He is not scolding her or telling her that her tears are wrong. Her tears are right. Mothers should not have to bury their sons. Actually, no one should be buried, no one should be taken. Death is not what God originally intended. It comes as His punishment for sin. It is not what Jesus wants for this young man, or that weeping mother, or for us. And so He tells her to stop weeping because He is going to make things right. She won’t need to weep anymore because Jesus is going to return her son to her. He is going to give life to the dead. That is what Jesus does.

He is the Lord of death and life. This is true, not only because He is God, but because He is a Man. And from Nain, this Man, our God, went on to Jerusalem where He suffered death. He became like all men, subject to death. He took the punishment of all sinners. He suffered the pain and the tears. His soul was torn from His body, that means He died. He died our death—the death of sinners—in order to conquer death. Holy Scripture plainly saith that death is swallowed up by death. Our death, including the death of that young man, is all swallowed up by the death of Jesus.

And with the reign of death ended, the true King arose. His soul and body was reunited—a living person. This Man, our God, stepped out of our grave and now He lives and reigns forever. That is why Jesus can say Stop weeping and Young man, I say to you, arise. That is why Jesus alone can say that and actually make it all happen.

And of course you know when Jesus achieved all this: on a Sunday morning. On a Sunday morning He rose from the grave. That’s the day of the week forever marked with the victory of life over death. And that’s why Christians made it the practice to come to church on Sunday. It is the day of Resurrection. Not just the annual celebration of Easter, but every Sunday is Resurrection Day. Every Sunday morning is Easter morning. In the ordinary Sunday Communion liturgy the pastor sings, It is truly good, right, and salutary that we should at all times and in all places give thanks to You, holy Lord, almighty Father, everlasting God, through Jesus Christ, our Lord, who on this day overcame death and the grave and by His glorious resurrection opened to us the way of everlasting life (Common Proper Preface). This is the Day that the Lord has made. Sunday is the Day that the Lord has made. This is the Day of our Lord’s victory over death. And that means Sunday is the Day of our victory over death. Let us rejoice and be glad in it (Ps. 118:24).

Now, it’s still okay for Christians to cry in church. Even on a Sunday. It is okay to miss our sons, daughters, parents, and grandparents, even as we gather on a Sunday to celebrate the resurrection. It’s okay because we do not grieve without hope. On Sunday, we are celebrating our Lord’s resurrection, and the resurrection that is coming for our sons, daughters, parents, grandparents, and for ourselves. I believe in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting. We may still weep for now but we have hope. For it is here on Sunday, the Resurrection Day, that your Lord meets you and says to you once again, “Stop weeping. I forgive you all your sins. My peace be with you. Take, eat and drink My body and blood for the forgiveness of your sins. And wherever there is forgiveness of sins, there is also life and salvation.”

Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning (Ps. 30:5). We are still waiting for that final Sunday morning. The widow of Nain had a taste of it, because her dead son sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. I can only imagine how the silence was broken as those two processions mingled together, laughing and singing, praising and glorifying God.

On that final and greatest Sunday morning—that final Resurrection Day—the Lord will meet us like He did at Nain. Death’s reign is done, so the silence of death will be broken, and the funeral procession will finally be stopped for good. And the Lord of Life will say, “Stop weeping. I say to you, arise.” And indeed heaven and earth, all creation and all believers, will shout and laugh and sing for the joy of that morning.
      
Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.


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

Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity

St. Luke 7:11–17

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

The Son of God became a man—a human. And even though He did not have original sin and He did not commit any actual sin, He still lived a very human life. His life encompassed all our highs and lows, our joys and sorrows, growing and aging. He is the ultimate representative of all human life from the womb to the tomb. So, we also see in His life, that Jesus is present and active at very human events—milestones in life. He attends a wedding at Cana and He attends a funeral at Nain. The Gospels tell us that Jesus raised at least three people from the dead, including Jairus’s daughter from her deathbed, and Lazarus from his sealed tomb, four days after his death. But here at Nain, Jesus is at the funeral service itself, and He interrupts the funeral procession by raising this widow’s son. So, since this episode is unique with Jesus being at a funeral, I think there are at least three things we can learn from this miracle about Christian funerals.

First, we start with what seems obvious: Jesus is there with His crowd, His disciples and others following Him. But we need to realize what it means that Jesus is there. Luke tells us that when the Lord saw the grieving mother and widow, He had compassion on her. But Jesus is not just another mourner or a sympathetic onlooker. The compassion of Jesus is deeper and stronger than earthly compassion. When we say Jesus is there, we mean nothing less than the Lord who became a man and would die for the sins of the world and rise again. His godly compassion was for sinners who cannot save themselves. His compassion was driving Him to the cross where He would suffer death in order to cancel our debt and destroy death forever. The Lord’s compassionate presence means more than just feeling sorry or a gentle pat on the arm. The Lord’s compassion means He will act to save. He will act by dying and rising again. And while He’s on His way to the cross to accomplish our salvation, His compassion also compels Him to display that salvation by His miracles, especially by raising the dead. His godly compassion, for this widow and for the world, gives a foretaste of the resurrection by this young man. Here at Nain we get a picture of what the Lord will do for all of us, a display of what all our funerals are preparing for.

The first thing we learn is that the Lord Jesus is there with His crowd, and so, He is here at our funerals too. Wherever His Word is read, He is present with His compassion. And so, in response to His presence, we confess our faith in Him. This means that the Christian funeral is a church service. Our chief focus, even at a funeral, is the worship of the one true God—the God in our midst who has compassion for us, who died for us and rose again to give us victory and open heaven for us.We hear His Word and call upon His holy name in prayer. The funeral is not merely a time of remembrance and our focus is not on the deceased. Our focus is on our Savior, as it always must be. And so, we confess our faith in our Savior, and we confess the faith of the deceased. We give them a voice one last time, speaking aloud the faith in which they died. More important than what the person did, is what the person believed.

So, the compassionate Lord Jesus is there at the Christian’s funeral. He’s there with His crowd, all the other brothers and sisters of the family of God. We gather as the Church to confess our faith and the faith of the one who died. This also means, that if you can, you come to the funerals of your fellow Christians. It’s not just for their family and friends. Whether you knew them well or not, you are their brother or sister in Christ. You need to be there too.

The second thing we notice from this miracle is that Jesus speaks good words. First, He speaks a good word to the widow: “Stop crying.” He is taking away her tears and He’s going to take away the reason for her tears. It’s not that the poor woman is wrong or sinful to be crying at the funeral of her only son—nothing could be more natural. But when Jesus is at work, hope is born anew, and tears can be wiped away. His powerful, living Word brings relief, comfort, peace, and joy. Jesus’ word does what it says. So when He says the good word, “Stop crying,” then she wants to stop, indeed she does stop, because He is giving her new hope, new joy, and new life. 

Then Jesus speaks a good word to the dead son: “Young man, I say to you, arise.” By His Word, by His speaking, Jesus shows that He is the Lord over life and death. As the Holy One, who died the innocent death in payment for sin and then rose victorious from the grave, He and He alone has the authority to awaken the dead and grant them everlasting life. He can wake up the dead more easily than we can wake up someone from sleep. Jesus’ word does what it says. So when He says the good word, “Young man, I say to you, arise,” then immediately the dead man sat up and began to speak. The young man is not a ghost or zombie, but a real man, body and soul together, fully alive once more, reanimated by the living Word.

So, the second thing we can learn is that we want Jesus to speak His good words at Christian funerals. The word “eulogy” literally means “good word.” And you’ve all probably heard many eulogies where the grief-stricken family and friends try to say a lot of good words about their deceased loved one. And you probably know some of these words are true and some not so true, maybe exaggerated, maybe chosen to get a laugh, or maybe chosen to tug at the heartstrings. And you’ve probably seen some eulogies fall apart because the grief is just too hard to bear for the speaker. Decent eulogies can be full of good memories that are worth sharing, but they’re usually more effective in their proper place, say, in the easy, informal setting of the funeral luncheon, not the sacred, reverent setting of God’s House. 

As Christians at a funeral, we don’t really need the eulogies from family or friends. What we need is a eulogy from Jesus—good words from our Lord. What we need to hear is not so much what we think of the deceased or what we remember, but we need to hear what the Lord says of them. This is why the pastor preaches a sermon. He might use some specific examples of how the Lord worked in that person’s life, and how they expressed their faith in word and deed. Funeral sermons aren’t pre-packaged, one-size-fits-all. But the chief focus of the funeral sermon is still on what the Lord said and did for that person: that they are baptized, forgiven, and sanctified by their Lord. They were given new life through the Word and Sacraments, and now their souls are at peace in heaven with God. The funeral sermon echoes the good words that our Lord Jesus spoke at Nain. Through the sermon our Lord speaks to us right now: “Stop weeping. There is forgiveness for sin. There is life that triumphs over death. Have hope.” And the sermon points us forward to what the Lord will say and do for the deceased and for us on the Last Day: “I say to you, arise.”

So, this brings us to the third thing we can learn: Jesus raises the dead. We’ve already said this several times, but now we should apply it to our situation. That funeral at Nain was cut short—they never made it to the cemetery. The casket bearers carried an empty casket back into the town. And the widow did not have to return to an empty house. Life returned with the young man and things happily went back to normal.

But Jesus has not promised that our funerals will be canceled. Our bodies and the bodies of our loved ones are laid to rest in the ground. And after the lunch is finished, the leftovers are packed up, and the flowers are collected, grieving widows or widowers, children or parents, they have to go back home and see the empty chair or bed that their loved one had occupied. Life goes on, but not back to normal, because someone is missing.

And yet, Jesus has promised to raise us from the dead and give us everlasting life when He returns. By raising the young man at Nain, Jesus demonstrated His power over the grave. He gave a glimpse of what He had come to do: defeat sin and death, forgive sins, and bestow life. Jesus gave a picture of what all our funerals are pointing towards: the Last Day, when all the dead will be raised, and those who believe will live with Him forever. Here is the ultimate reason we have a Christian funeral: we gather in hope for what the Lord has in store for us. This is confident, certain, sure hope—not wishful thinking. Christian hope means that we know it even though we cannot see it. We wait, we expect, we look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.

We know Jesus is going to do this for us, not just because He did it for a few people in the Bible. But we know Jesus will raise us because He is risen and we are bound to Him. He came out of His grave and He cannot leave us in ours any more than He could’ve left His body in the tomb. He is our Head, we are members of His body.

So,Shall I fear, or could the Head 

Rise and leave His members dead?

No, too closely I am bound 

By my hope to Christ forever; 

Faith’s strong hand the Rock has found, 

Grasped it, and will leave it never;

Even death now cannot part 

From its Lord the trusting heart (LSB 741:2–3).

When we confidently say, “Christ is risen!” that is the guarantee that we shall rise as well.

So, in a Christian funeral we gather in hope for the resurrection to come. And especially, we go out to the cemetery to lay a member of Christ’s body into his or her resting place. And when I say “We,” I mean that we, the Church, the Body of Christ should go out to the grave. It’s not just for the blood relatives or earthly friends. Come out to the cemetery and lay down your fellow Christian to rest in peace. Mark their grave, and remember that you also are dust and to dust you shall return. But also tuck them into their bed, commending their body into God’s keeping. This is also why Christians bury their dead, planting their bodies as seeds that will be brought to life again at Jesus’ return. And this is why cremation is not a very Christian practice, because we don’t try to hide death or pretend that death is a good thing. Death is the enemy, but it’s a defeated enemy. And the body that sleeps for a little while in the earth, will be awakened again. God is not done with your body. He has more in store for it.

So also, when you go out to the cemetery (at the funeral and later on), rejoice at death’s defeat. Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ! (1 Corinthians 15:57).

Laugh to scorn the gloomy grave 

And at death no longer tremble;

He, the Lord, who came to save 

Will at last His own assemble.

They will go their Lord to meet, 

Treading death beneath their feet (LSB 741:7).

At Christian funerals and at Christian graves, we take a lesson from the happy crowd at Nain. Even though we still wait for the Last Day, we glorify God. We sing and we proclaim the resurrection.

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

            He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.