The Lutheran Hour
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"Death And The Blacksmith"
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Text: 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
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Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed! If those words are not true, then Christians, like the rest of humanity, remain in their sins and will spend eternity condemned and without hope. But if they are true – and they are – the darkness of death is dispelled and eternity is bright in the light of the Lord Jesus. Heavenly Father, grant this light of life to us all. Amen.
Death, along with birth, is the most democratic of human experiences. If you are listening to this Lutheran Hour message, it is obvious you have been born. Similarly, unless the Savior’s Judgment Day return prevents it, you will most certainly die. The reality is, death is coming and we can’t do anything about it. We may try to delay it with good medical attention and sensible living, but even the winners of Olympic decathlons and ironman competitions will, eventually, die.
The Grim Reaper may come to take a whole group of us with a single visit. In the year 541, Justinian’s Plague in Europe killed an estimated 25 percent of the population living south of the Alps. In 1544, the Black Death wiped out 25 million people. Death is coming, and when it comes, it can rack up some pretty impressive statistics. Death can come for us as a group; it can come for us as individuals.
That’s the way death came for my father. He was in the house with my mother when death arrived. I remember the call I received. “Dad has had a heart attack or a stroke. We don’t know which. The paramedics have taken him to the hospital. It doesn’t look good. We’ll call you when we know more.” Within a few hours, my sister called. “Dad’s gone. We were able to get a heart beat, but we couldn’t keep it.” Shocked, Pam and I made plans to take our family home for the funeral.
I know that some of you who listen to The Lutheran Hour feel that sometimes we speakers talk too much about our families. If you feel that way, I beg your indulgence and ask you to excuse me for doing just that for the next few minutes. You know, somehow, in spite of common sense, practical experience, and human history, many of us think our lives are immune from the touch of death. Of course, young people think they can do anything, survive anything. But even we who are older somehow delude ourselves into thinking parents are going to be around forever. We refuse to consider the possibility death could claim one of our children and many of us don’t like to think about our own ending or that of anyone who is dear to us. Even though I had conducted hundreds of funerals, it never occurred to me; I never envisioned there would be a time when I would be without my father or mother. Even so, the day did come; my father died.
As we drove to Chicago, I had time to deal with the passing of one of the best men I had ever known. Forget he was my father, my children’s grandfather, he was a good man and his passing left a giant emptiness in our lives. For me, he had been the person I had gone to when I had a question about ministry. His advice had always been sound. For my children, he was the grandpa who always had a piece of candy, or a little gift, and instructions, “Don’t tell your mom or dad. You’ll get me into trouble.” And if they didn’t tell us, he did so himself.
We arrived at the family home the next day. Dad’s imprint was everywhere. His leather moccasins sat under the kitchen table where he liked to read his evening paper; his vitamins were set out; his glasses were on the bathroom counter; his most recent stained glass project – the hobby his artist’s soul had picked up after he had retired – lay unfinished on his downstairs’ worktable. Today, many years later, it sits there still. That day everything seemed as if he was going to come strolling in the door.
But Dad didn’t come in. He never would come through that door again. Death had come and in big ways and a million little ways, it changed things. Mom brought out some of the things which dad had written. Writing was what dad did in the early hours of the morning when he couldn’t sleep. A prayer to his Savior; a poem to his wife; a letter of advice to his children; an invitation to far-flung family members chastising them for only getting together for family funerals. Dad wanted to change that. His letter inviting them to his 70th birthday party was never mailed. Death made sure of that. Death replaced that invitation with phone calls announcing his funeral. There was one other thing dad wrote. He said, “I want Kenny to do my funeral, if he is able. Don’t pay him anything.” “Ask Tommy (Tom is my brother) to help with the household finances. Don’t pay him anything either.”
I did dad’s funeral. It was one of the hardest and happiest funerals I have ever done. Hardest, because my life would be poorer. Happiest, because I knew – I knew – less than a nanosecond after dad had breathed his last in this world; he woke up in heaven with all those friends and family members who had, because of faith in Jesus as Savior, gone there ahead of him. Jesus took dad through the valley of the shadow of death and brought him into unending paradise. I would have liked to have been there when he was united with his dad, my grandfather, the only other man I knew who could have held a flame to my pop.
There is a reason I tell you all this. You see, this past summer, when I was lecturing at Camp Arcadia – a wonderful and unique family camp on the shores of Lake Michigan – my mother came up and said, “Your daddy would be so proud, don’t you wish he were here to see this?” I knew what mom meant. Even so, after a moment, I had to disagree. She looked shocked when I said, “No, mom. I don’t wish that at all.” And I didn’t. You see, I know Jesus, and I know because of the Savior, my father is in heaven.
My father was a good man, a wonderful man, but he was not a perfect man. When I was 13-years-old, I went with him to work. For the first time, at the age of 13, I heard him use a word which he had never used at home. But I had to wait until I was 13 to hear it. How I pray the same could be said for all of our nation’s children. No, dad wasn’t perfect. He had other sins which I don’t have to cover in detail. Let it go. He had his faults and flaws, and if he had had to rely on his own ability, he never would have made it past the pearly gates.
But he didn’t have to rely upon himself. And that is the whole point of this message. You see, my father had a Savior; a Savior who had done for him that which he could never have done for himself. Where my father – like each of us – had committed sins, had violated God’s commandments, Jesus, the heaven-sent Son of God kept those laws perfectly. For 33 years, Jesus never stumbled, He never wavered, He never slipped. Because of Jesus, all those who believe on Him are freed from the condemnation which God’s laws so clearly, so rightly have pronounced. But Jesus did more for us than keep God’s ancient commands, He also resisted the seductive and oh-so-successful temptations Satan placed before Him. The best and wisest student of human nature, Satan looks at us; sizes us up, then designs a unique set of attractions which are designed to appeal to our particular personality and individual inclination. Satan’s seduction which is successful on me, may leave you cold and unmoved; but never fear, he has something to entice, tempt, and beguile everyone.
Satan’s past temptations had been so successful, he felt quite comfortable trying them out on Jesus. He offered the Savior a shortcut which promised Jesus could sidestep the suffering which was necessary if humanity was to be saved. The devil presented the possibility of unlimited power, prestige, influence, and wealth. To detour Jesus from His work, Satan placed snags, stumbling blocks, and barriers onto His path. And where you and I would have been seduced by Satan’s suggestions, Jesus consistently, constantly, coldly, turned him down.
But Jesus’ work of winning our release was not yet complete. The law had been fulfilled, the devil had been defeated; but death, our final enemy, still remained (1 Corinthians 15:26). If any of us were ever to be given a place in heaven, death had to be conquered; if we were to ever see paradise, Jesus had to die in our place. The death Jesus faced for us was not a pretty one.
Hundreds of years before the Savior had been born in Bethlehem, the Old Testament prophet Isaiah had predicted Jesus would, in the performance of our rescue, have to carry grief and sorrow; that He would be stricken, smitten, afflicted, and wounded, for all the wrong humanity had done or would ever do. But there was more. Isaiah promised Jesus would carry all this without any complaint or criticism coming out of His mouth. Before He breathed His last, the prophets had promised Jesus would endure much; in His death, He would suffer more.
To the ancient mind, the prolonged pain of crucifixion was multiplied by the shame of dying in a way which showed an individual had been rejected by both earth and heaven. Crucifixion was the death which awaited the Christ. And, if that were not enough, Jesus was fully aware Calvary’s cruel crossbar would be the last waypoint in His completion of heaven’s mission to save humankind (John 3:14).
If you comb through the Gospels, you will never come across any mention of Jesus hesitating or halting as He went to the cross. True, He prayed, if it were possible, that the route He must travel could be changed if another path would be equally effective. But even in this, Jesus’ prayers were punctuated by His complete commitment to following the Father’s will. And so it was, on Good Friday, the sound of hammer on nails was heard on a skull-shaped hill outside Jerusalem’s city walls. Passersby would have noted three crosses being lifted up – three crosses containing three men whom society thought worthy of death. Three crosses – one carrying the body, the soon-to-be-corpse, of God’s innocent Son. If any of those travelers had stopped and paid attention to what He said in His last moments, they would have heard Him forgive those who had put Him there; they would have heard Him take care of His mother and then, in shout of victory rather than defeat, proclaim His work was finished.
And His work was finished. A Roman spear, plunged into the heart of Jesus, brought forth blood and water – a certain sign He had been dead for some time. His work was done, and as proof of its completion, three days later the stone which had been set in front of His tomb was rolled aside. This was not done to ease Jesus’ escape, but to let the world see Christ had risen. In the days which followed, again and again a living Lord Jesus showed Himself to those who, quite normally, had shown themselves skeptical of His conquest of death. Then, with Spirit-given faith, they were led to understand, Jesus’ resurrection had ushered in a new world – a new world where death’s sting was removed and the grave’s victory was only temporary. From Resurrection Sunday on, anyone who has faith in Jesus as Savior has been comforted by the sure and certain knowledge that when their lives end, they will awake in heaven. It was that knowledge which allowed a great cloud of persecuted martyrs to enter arena and amphitheater with joy on their faces and songs of praise upon their lips.
Christ has conquered sin, Satan, and death. For almost 2,000 years, that has been the message of the church. For almost as long a time, governments have tried to stamp out that message and followers of other faiths have tried to snuff out the light Jesus brings to their dark world. Still, the truth remains, Jesus lives, and because He lives, all who believe on Him will also live. My father believed that; and because Jesus was his Savior, he is in heaven. And no matter what wonderful thing happens to me or those who come after me, I would not, not for a second, wish him back at my side. There is no joy this world can produce which will ever compare to what he is experiencing now. No, let that old blacksmith stand before his Savior; let my father sing the praises of the Christ. I will join him soon enough in an eternal reunion of everlasting rejoicing. This is what Christians believe; it is what we know to be true.
The victory of the Savior is what enabled me to preach the funeral sermon of my father. Were there hard moments in that sermon – I cannot deny it. There were seconds when my vision became teary and I could not see clearly; a time or two when my voice grew thick and the words did not flow. There was, if I remember that day correctly, a time when I had to stop, breathe deeply, and compose myself. I am not ashamed of those things; I apologize for none of them. I missed that wonderful old man, I miss him still. But my sadness was for me, not for him. My mourning and that of my brother, and my sister, and my mother, was not then, nor is it now, filled with bleak bitterness and bile. We mourned, but not as those who had no hope. We grieved as did Abraham at the passing of Sarah; David who cried at the death of his friend Jonathan; Job who hurt after the death of his children; as Jesus wept at the death of Lazarus. But our grief did not shake its fists at the heavens; it does not demand God to give an accounting of His actions.
We know what Jesus has done. The Father sent His perfect Son to save my imperfect father, and us, and our children, and you, as well. The Triune God has, at no cost to us, graciously and unexpectedly, done what we could not do. He has made the impossible possible; He has made it so we will, on the day we die, go home. Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, comforted us that day and since that day. Jesus’ victory over sin, devil, and death, has given hope to the families and friends who attended the hundreds of funerals at which I have preached: the mother and father who were mourning their child; the widow and widower who stood lonely at the casket of a faithful helpmeet; a friend who was missing a lifelong comrade; a fiancée whose wedding plans were stopped short at the death of their betrothed; all of these were calmed by Jesus’ promise.
When medicine had failed; when wishing and hoping had dimmed; when heartfelt words and human hearts were ineffective, inadequate, and insufficient, Jesus’ promise, “Because I live you shall live also!” showed its strength and provided peace (John 14:19). Although every one of us is living a unique story, the day will come when our final chapter will be written and it will be shared by us all. Our temporal, earthly story, no matter how grand and glorious, how small and seemingly insignificant, will end with the words: “Death came.” The question is, when death comes wishing to spread its deep darkness, will that moment of midnight be dispelled by the light of the living Lord Jesus?
If you are still listening to this, the most personal message I have ever shared over this Gospel broadcast, you may be excused for wondering why. The answer I give is not mine, but comes from St. Paul. Centuries ago he wrote to the Christian church in Thessalonica, “I don’t want you to be ignorant about what happens to those who are asleep, who have died in Jesus. I don’t want you grieving as others do who have no hope.” Back then, St. Paul was trying to bring hope to believers who were confused about the timing of the resurrection; today I wish to share the victory of Jesus with anyone who thinks the resurrection will never come.
My friends, death is coming. Eternity is a very long time to grieve over one’s unbelief. Are you sure nothing will happen when you breathe your last? What is the comfort that will leave those left behind? The Lord has done all which is necessary to make grief bearable. Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and be sure that when death arrives, it will not, because of Jesus Christ, claim you forever. Today the Holy Spirit dispels ignorance and doubt. Jesus lives, and if He lives as your Savior, you will live as well. To that end, if we can be of help, please, call us at The Lutheran Hour. Amen.
Q & A for Sermon #76-09
Wearing JewelryANNOUNCER: Now, Pastor Ken Klaus responds to questions from listeners. I’m Mark Eischer.
KLAUS: Hi, Mark.
ANNOUNCER: Now Pastor, when you hear this question, you might get the idea that this letter had somehow been misplaced by the postal service for – oh, say the last sixty years or so.
KLAUS: That’s not the way you usually introduce these things. I’m fascinated. What does it say?
ANNOUNCER: The subject has to do with women wearing jewelry.
KLAUS: Jewelry?
ANNOUNCER: Right. And I should say that this is not about the so-called “blood diamonds.” We dealt with that subject a couple months ago in a previous Q and A.
KLAUS: OK, let’s let ‘er rip.
ANNOUNCER: All right. Here’s our letter. Our listener says, “A friend of mine doesn’t wear any jewelry at all, not even a wedding ring, not even a cross necklace. She used to wear jewelry, but she stopped after she found a passage in the Bible which says that when a woman wears jewelry, it’s a sign that she’s a prostitute.”
KLAUS: You’re right. I would have expected that question to be asked years ago. I didn’t know that kind of thinking was out there.
ANNOUNCER: Well, what do you think? Could that be right, even just a little bit?
KLAUS: No, the lady is really drawing a wrong conclusion here from Scripture.
ANNOUNCER: But she is acting according to her understanding of what she believes the Bible is saying. So my question is: Is that, in fact, what the Bible says?
KLAUS: OK. That kind of thinking is probably based on what St. Paul wrote in 1st Timothy. He said this: “I desire then that in every place the men should pray, lifting holy hands without anger or quarreling; likewise also that women should adorn themselves in respectable apparel, with modesty and self-control, not with braided hair and gold or pearls or costly attire.”
ANNOUNCER: The first thing I’m hearing there is that it doesn’t say anything about not wearing a cross.
KLAUS: Exactly. Now, the person who originally made the statement about women and jewelry had the right idea. Paul wanted to make sure Jesus wasn’t going to look bad by the way His followers were living and acting, and the impression they were giving to others.
ANNOUNCER: But how would wearing jewelry in church do that? After all, many of us get dressed up for church in what used to be called our “Sunday Best.” That’s because the Divine Service is where we actually come into God’s presence and receive His gifts of forgiveness through the means of grace.
KLAUS: And that’s fine. But don’t forget, in St. Paul’s day, many of the pagan religions involved actual temple prostitution. In that temple prostitution, ordinary women of the community – pillars of the community – were expected to express their devotion for their particular idol or false god by performing immoral acts in the temple.
ANNOUNCER: So then, if Christian women were seen dressing and looking like these other women…
KLAUS: Yes, people would therefore assume that they were actually one of these women.
ANNOUNCER: And they would further assume that our Lord wasn’t really much different from those pagan deities.
KLAUS: Yes, and that’s really not the kind of impression that early Christianity, or any-time Christianity, would want to give to people.
ANNOUNCER: So you’re saying the problem wasn’t jewels or jewelry, per se.
KLAUS: Yes, the question is: “What impression are you giving to others on behalf of Jesus Christ?”
ANNOUNCER: Sort of like a preacher taking a beer into the pulpit with him.
KLAUS: Well, I hadn’t thought of that, but a minister with a beer in the pulpit would probably convey a negative impression to the worshipers.
ANNOUNCER: OK, with about 30 seconds left, how would you sum this up for us today?
KLAUS: We would say God’s people are God’s people when they are on duty, and even when they think they might be off duty.
ANNOUNCER: Anything else you could say about this?
KLAUS: Yes. Two things.
First, those things which might have identified a prostitute in Paul’s day don’t necessarily do so any longer. On the other hand, there may well be other things today which would give a similar impression, or at least create a distraction.
ANNOUNCER: And, your second point?
KLAUS: We need to say if the lady’s friend really believes it’s a sin to wear jewelry, she shouldn’t wear it. She should be faithful to her conscience. But she shouldn’t make rules out for everybody else to follow. Jesus lived, died, and rose to give us freedom from such man-made laws and restrictions.
ANNOUNCER: Thank you, Pastor Klaus. And we thank our listener for that interesting question. This has been a presentation of Lutheran Hour Ministries.
Music selections for this program:
“A Mighty Fortress” arranged by John Leavitt. Concordia Publishing House/SESAC
“I Know That My Redeemer Lives” arr. John Behnke. From Hymns for All Saints (© 2004 Concordia Publishing House)
“Let All Things Now Living” by Robert A. Hobby. From Thine Is the Glory by Robert A. Hobby (© 1997 MorningStar Music Publishers)
“Jesus Lives, the Victory’s Won” by Paul Manz. From Hymn Improvisations, vol. 1 by Paul Manz (© 1992 Paul Manz)