The Lutheran Hour
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"Proof"
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Text: John 6:30-32
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Christ is risen. He is risen, indeed! Defying all probability, against all possibility the Lord Jesus has risen and shown Himself the world’s Savior the promised Messiah. Today He invites all doubters to come and see; to ask their questions and receive Holy Spirit-given faith. Grant such faith, dear Lord, to us all. Amen.
In 1716, Richard Phelps cast a great bell which still hangs in the southwest tower of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. If you hail from Britain’s capital city, you know the bell is only used to call out the hour and to toll at the death and funeral of a royal family member, the Bishop of London, the Dean of the Cathedral, and the Lord Mayor… if he has the singular fortune to die in office. It is the bell which is important to this story, the story of a sentinel who, centuries ago, served night duty at Windsor Castle. This special night the soldier was accused by the guard who came to relieve him. The charge: sleeping at his post. The sentinel was put before a court martial which was prepared to find him guilty and sentence the disgraced soldier to death.
That is exactly what would have happened, but they gave the soldier one last opportunity to speak, to prove his innocence. With some degree of fear, knowing the officers hearing his case would be hard pressed to believe his story, he began. ‘I was awake. I know I was awake because I heard the big bell of St. Paul’s Cathedral strike the hour.” From the faces of the tribunal members he could see he hadn’t moved them. They interrupted: “The ringing of a bell is hardly proof of innocence. After all, the strike of one hour’s passing is as good as another. Besides, the Cathedral is five miles away from where you were supposed to be keeping watch. The sound would never carry that far.” Then they asked, “Do you have anything else?” He did. The soldier added, “That night, when the clock should have struck twelve, I heard it ring thirteen times.”
No one believed the soldier’s explanation. He was as good as dead. Still, the officers, knowing a man’s life was at stake, decided to investigate the claims. The first part was easy. Yes, many people who worked at the castle had, in the quiet hours of the night, heard the big bell of St. Paul’s. To verify the second part, the part about the clock ringing thirteen times, that took more effort. The tribunal called in the master of the bells and the custodian of the clocks. They asked, ‘In recent memory, has the clock ever struck thirteen rather than twelve?” Embarrassed, the two replied: ‘Sirs, it shouldn’t have happened; indeed, we’re embarrassed to admit, yes. There was such an instance. The clock’s works malfunctioned, and the clapper struck 13 times.” 13 times the night the guard had been on duty. The proof was accepted, the court released the prisoner. He lived to be almost 100. The rest of his life he smiled every time he heard the bell of St. Paul’s, the bell which had given him back his life and honor.
Proof. We live in an age when people want proof. Very few Lutheran Hour listeners are content to blindly accept what I or anyone else says. Years ago I heard a story about a busload full of politicians who were driving down a country road at night. The bus hit some loose gravel and the vehicle, and her occupants ended up being wrapped around a tree on a farmer’s fence line. The next day the farmer came upon the accident. He did the best he could to give the politicians a proper sendoff. Now, it took a few days before anyone missed those politicians. Eventually, someone volunteered, somebody ought to investigate their disappearance. It was during the investigation that the county sheriff showed up at the farmer’s house. The officer had seen the bus and wanted to know if the farmer had seen the politicians. The farmer admitted to what he had done. He even took the sheriff to the burial site. Standing at the grave, the sheriff asked the farmer, “Were they ALL dead?” To which the farmer could only say, “Well, some of them said they weren’t, but you know how them politicians lie.”
Yes, we have a tough time believing people. Every subject, every discussion, every idea is interpreted by multiple opinions. When it comes to politicians, we know what they tell us, but talk is cheap and it takes money to buy… liquid refreshment. They make promises, but we know we’ll have to wait to see if they’ll keep them.
We have our questions; we want our proof. And, even when all our questions have been properly put to bed; even when we cannot think of anything else to challenge, only then, with reluctance do we, we e-v-e-r s-o s-l-o-w-l-y give i… no, we can’t do it; we can’t give in; we can’t accept; we can’t believe. We’ve seen too many people get hoodwinked; too many folks conned. We’ve been let down too many times, been deceived by too many lies.
Does that sound familiar? Does that describe the way you think? If so, you should know that while our age has elevated doubting and demands for proof to an art form, we don’t have a monopoly on the concept of questioning. In the sixth chapter of the Gospel of John, people wanted proof. They wanted to know exactly who Jesus was and why they should believe in Him. They challenged, ‘When Moses was leading people in the wilderness, he proved he was God’s prophet by making sure everybody received some miraculous food from heaven. That’s a pretty good proof, Jesus. What kind of proof can You give us about who You are?’ Now you should know they probably brought up this food thing because just the day before Jesus had performed a miracle feeding thousands from the contents of a boy’s meager lunch. In their question they were kind of hoping Jesus would say, ‘Moses? Moses! Moses was a piker. Moses gave the people pretty much the same thing every day. I’ll feed you delicacies beyond imagining. Moses. Why, Moses fed the people for a mere forty years. I’ll keep the goodies coming as long as you live.’
That’s probably what the people hoped Jesus would say. They hoped He would give them proof He was a magical, mystical, shelves-always-full-Supermarket who would keep them well supplied. Instead, Jesus spoke of Himself as the Messiah, the One who had come down from heaven, the One who could give them a living bread which would end their hunger. That was when the people got confused. They knew who Jesus was. He was a local Boy, the Son of a carpenter. He was One of them. Now all of a sudden He’s talking about having come from heaven. It was too much. They asked for proof. How could they be sure? How could they know He was the Messiah?
Jesus told them He was on a Divine mission to save humanity. He had come to save us from the condemnation our sins had brought about; to rescue us from the everlasting damnation our disobedience had incurred; to release us from the eternal death we deserved. He was doing everything His Father had asked of Him. He was living His life perfectly; He was resisting sin perfectly; He would eventually defeat death soundly. His job was to do all the Father had asked; their job was to believe in Him as Savior. Jesus said it clearly, “this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in him should have eternal life,” If you do that, Jesus added, ‘I will raise you up on the last day.’
Now you and I have seen infomercials which claim they can help us buy property with no money down; we have seen commercials selling knives which can cut bricks and nails; we have listened to muscled-men-of-steel sell workout programs which they claim will make us svelte and slim and sexy. Those claims are all pretty difficult to believe. Still, no infomercial hawker has ever gone on TV to make a claim like Jesus did. No politician in his craziest moments has ever promised he had the power to raise someone from the dead.
Some folks got confused; others were upset and most of them who had supported Jesus walked away. They weren’t fools; their mamas hadn’t raised no dummies. It was one thing for Jesus to say He could feed them so they wouldn’t get hungry again. That they might believe, kind of. But for Him to claim He was going to raise people from the dead. That was simply, well, there’s just no other way to say it: it was poppy-cock and balderdash. Where’s the proof; where’s the verification, the confirmation, the substantiation, the corroboration, and any other ‘ation’ you can think of?
Where’s the proof? That’s what people ask of Jesus today, isn’t it? People want proof He’s who He says He is. Inquiring minds want to know. If anyone’s going to believe Him, they’ve got to know beyond any shadow of a doubt that His claims are real. After all, to believe Jesus’ declaration, He is our Savior, means we have to believe a lot of other things, too. It means we have to believe we are sinners; we have to believe we need saving; we have to believe Jesus is the Person sent by God to save us. If we believe God the Father sent Jesus to save us, we have to believe in the Christian God and reject all others. If we believe in the Christian God, that means we have to believe the Christian Bible. It’s like watching dominos. If you believe the claims of Jesus to be the Christ, you believe what the Bible says. There is no other choice. And nobody, nobody is going to put their faith in Jesus without proof. You doubters out there, did I say that about right?
Now, if you expect me to give you an argument on it, you’re wrong. You have a right to ask for proof. You’d be a fool if you didn’t. So, let’s talk about proof, shall we? We begin with the idea: everybody believes in something. Even people who say they don’t believe put faith in their own ability to make reasonable, rational, right decisions. You OK with that? Good. The next point is this: it’s not the quality of your faith which is of prime importance, is it? You can honestly believe eating a bowl of strychnine won’t hurt you. You can honestly believe that, but you’d still be dead. You might truthfully believe you are strong enough to swim the Pacific, but you’d still drown. The important thing about believing is to believe in the right thing. That is what has to be valid and true. Let’s make that simple. Jesus isn’t the Savior because I say so, or because He claimed to be. Thousands have claimed to be the Messiah. If Jesus is the Savior, it is because He really is the Son of God, the Savior of the world. If He is the Savior, and He is, it will be seen by the proofs which He gives… proofs which are undeniable, unassailable, unquestionable.
Yes, I know there are those who, no matter what proofs are given, will deny Him, assail Him, and question Him. At the risk of sounding rude, that’s not right. Jesus doesn’t stop being the Savior because you say so or because I believe it. Jesus is the Savior if He does that which the Savior’s supposed to do. Is Jesus the Savior? That’s what the Scribes and Pharisees wanted to know when Jesus forgave the sins of a lame man as only God can do. (Luke 5:21) At their challenge, Jesus showed His Godly power by raising the man from the bed of illness. Convinced? Probably not. You doubters are thinking, “Maybe the man had some psychosomatic illness and Jesus only provided the situation for him to think he was healed. No Messiahship necessary for that.”
OK, let me try again. Is Jesus the Savior? That was the question John the Baptist asked from prison. He wanted to know, ‘Jesus, how can I be sure You’re the Redeemer?’ Pretty straight forward, don’t you think? Jesus’ reply was equally straight: “Tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, dead are raised, the poor have good news preached to them.” (Luke 7: 22ff) That part about raising the dead: that’s not so easy to dismiss. Yes, I know you can dismiss it, but if Jesus could raise a dead person, a really dead person, that would be troublesome. That was the conclusion of the Chief Priests of the Jews. When Jesus raised His decomposing friend Lazarus, nobody could deny it had happened. Since they couldn’t deny it, they decided to do the next best thing: they decided to kill Jesus and Lazarus, too. (John 11:52; 10:12) Now, in case you haven’t noticed… do you remember the unbelieving crowd left Jesus partly because they couldn’t accept His raising folks from the dead? Well, He did it. If the Savior’s opponents could have denied Jesus, they would have; but they couldn’t. Nor could they deny Jesus’ own resurrection. Everyone knew He had died. The Romans were incredibly efficient with their crucifixions. They couldn’t say Jesus’ body had been stolen. Their own guard and seal on His grave took care of any doubts along those lines.
The truth is: Jesus rose from the dead. He raised others, and He rose from the dead, Himself. Is Jesus the Savior? You should know the disciples never did as I have just done; they never pointed to Jesus’ empty tomb as the first proof of His resurrection. They didn’t have to. They didn’t have to because they had seen Him repeatedly. They saw Him, and ate with Him, and talked with Him, and touched Him, and felt His living breath upon them. They saw, and because they saw, their doubts, their well-founded, logical, doubts, doubts just like yours, went away. Jesus rose; He lives; He is the Savior. It’s just that simple.
Now, you can keep doubting, but why? Have your doubts brought you peace of mind and heart? Have they given you limitless hope for tomorrow and comfort for what will happen to you after your tomorrows are no more? Have your doubts given you security? I’m all in favor of doubt, as long as that doubt is fair and legitimate. It’s only doubt for doubt’s sake that I deplore. And so should you. You should summarily dismiss any doubt which keeps you from the Savior, from forgiveness, from salvation.
When the Wright Brothers were working on their first airplane, the rumor went around their hometown of Dayton, Ohio that the bicycle boys were trying to make a machine which would help man to fly. One doubter beautifully expressed the feelings of the rest when he said, “No man will ever fly, and if a man does fly, it won’t be anybody from Dayton. And, if any man from Dayton does fly, it won’t be a Wright Brother.” Well, the bicycle boys flew. Now, if you’re a person who’s saying, “No Man will ever rise from the dead, and if Someone ever does rise from the dead, it won’t be Someone from Nazareth, and if it is Someone from Nazareth, it won’t be Jesus…” Well, I’m here to tell you that Jesus has risen and your doubts can be put to rest. And, if there’s anything we can do to help with those doubts, please, to call us at The Lutheran Hour. Amen.
LUTHERAN HOUR MAILBOX (Q & A) for August 2, 2009
Topic: Let the Dead Bury Their DeadMark: Why might a minister choose not to officiate at a funeral? Pastor Ken Klaus responds to questions from listeners. I’m Mark Eischer.
Ken: Hello, Mark. Funerals. That might be of interest. Shall we get more specific?
Mark: Absolutely. A listener asks, “Why would a pastor decline to do a funeral for someone who is not a member of his church, although the family members are?”
Ken: Mark, I have to ask: Is there more to the question than that?
Mark: There is more to the letter, but not more to the question. Is it important?
Ken: It certainly could be. This is one of those times when I feel I’m walking into a mine field.
Mark: How is that?
Ken: Let me explain. This isn’t one of those questions where somebody wakes up in the middle of the night and says, “Wow, I think I’m going to ask Pastor Klaus about funerals and why pastors don’t do them.”
Mark: You’re saying there is probably a motivation behind the question.
Ken: A motivation and, quite probably, a very personal one. More than likely the questioner, or someone close to the questioner has had such an experience. Indeed, such a situation, when it’s not explained, can turn sour and I’ve seen it turn people off on Christ, the church and organized religion, too. It can become a nasty problem which leaves long-lasting scars.
Mark: Well, then, would you prefer not to answer the question?
Ken: No, it’s a question we need to deal with. More than one person out there has probably been caught up in such a battle. So, let’s give it a try.
Mark: And where to begin?Ken: Let me begin by asking: “Where in the Bible does it say the church is supposed to do funerals?
Mark: I’m not sure that it does. Offhand, I can’t think of a chapter or verse.
Ken: Neither can I. Now, it’s true the Church and God’s people have almost always done so, but it’s not, as near as I can recall, a command from God. In other words, there’s no commandment that says, “Thou shalt only bury church members after a funeral service lasting no more than an hour.”
Mark: But you say the church has always done so.
Ken: It has. In the Old Testament it was so. In the New Testament, when Stephen, the first Christian martyr was buried, it says in Acts 8:2: “Devout men buried Stephen and made great lamentation over him.”
Mark: So, according to custom, we do Christian funerals. But why would a pastor not want to do such a funeral when asked?
Ken: I can think of any number of reasons. First, the person might be a member of another church or denomination. In such a situation, for a pastor to get involved would be overstepping his authority. The right to do that funeral would belong to the deceased person’s pastor or priest.
Mark: But why would anybody not ask the deceased person’s pastor or priest?
Ken: I don’t know. Maybe they have had a falling out with him. Maybe they like the way the other pastor preaches. I can’t say. But in such a situation it would be improper for a clergyman to overstep his bounds.
Mark: You said there might be other reasons.
Ken: There are. Let me ask, what is the purpose of a Christian funeral?
Mark: To provide as much comfort as is possible to those who are left behind.
Ken: Good. Now, what kind of comfort does a Christian funeral give? What is the basis for it?
Mark: That Jesus has, with His life, suffering, death and resurrection, redeemed us from sin and given us eternal life. Now, all those who believe on Jesus are saved.
Ken: And… what comfort would a pastor give to someone who had shown no relationship, confessed no confidence in Jesus? Who perhaps had said-or shown–that He had no use for the Savior?
Mark: I think that would minimize or undermine what a pastor might say.
Ken: That’s right.
Mark: But couldn’t the pastor just kind of say some good stuff? I mean, a pastor really doesn’t know if anyone is a believer or not, does he?
Ken: No, we really never do. On the other hand, as Jesus said in Matthew 7:20, ‘we can recognize Christians by their fruits, by the things they do.’ All a minister can really do is echo what that person said in his or her life.
Mark: But couldn’t that be done just for the family… to help them out?
Ken: Some pastors do that. I can’t criticize anybody for what they do. Each situation and circumstance is different and I can’t come up with a rule which covers all situations.
Mark: It sounds like you generally stand on the other side of the fence.
Ken: Generally. I always tried to minister to families. But to give a public witness that this person was with the Lord when that may not have been the case. That was tough for me. If they didn’t want the Lord when they were alive, I wasn’t about to force Jesus on a person after they were dead. If they didn’t want to walk into church when they were alive, I saw no need to carry them in. I still tried to work with the family… but if a person was downright antichristian… for me to do the funeral would be making a public statement that the church thought this guy was OK.
Mark: I get it. Although that kind of thing wouldn’t make a pastor or priest very popular.
Ken: If you were placing bets, you’d win the wager. But I’d also like to say this. I’ve never seen a pastor or priest decline a funeral without it tearing his heart out. He wants to help… it’s just sometimes, conscience bound, he doesn’t know what he can do PUBLICLY.
Mark: This has been a presentation of Lutheran Hour Ministries.
Music selection for this program:
“A Mighty Fortress” arranged by John Leavitt. Concordia Publishing House/SESAC
“Praise to the Lord, the Almighty” from Hymns for All Saints (© 2004 Concordia Publishing House)
“God the Father, Be Our Stay” by J.S. Bach. From Te Deum by the Seminary Kantorei Brass (© 2000 Concordia Theological Seminary)
“Praise to the Lord, the Almighty” by John Leavitt. Concordia Publishing House.