Tag: John 16:16-22

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Fourth Sunday of Easter

~ Jubilate ~

Readings: Isaiah 40:25-31 | 1 Peter 2:11-20 | John 16:16-22

Text: John 16:16-22

Alleluia! Christ is risen! He is risen indeed, alleluia!

Among the many promises of God, we have our favorites:

“Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool.” (Isaiah 1:18)

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” (Isaiah 43:2)

“Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, 26and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.” (John 11:25–26)

But there’s another promise which the Lord makes in today’s Gospel. It probably won’t make anyone’s list of favorites, or appear on any funeral bulletin cover: “Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy.”  This is a promise we can count on being true today: Truly, truly, I say to you—Amen. Amen—You will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. He does not say, if your faith is not strong enough, you will weep. Nor does He say, if you go astray, you will lament.  It’s true for every believer.  If you follow Jesus, you will weep and lament.  We should not be surprised when this life causes us grief and sorrow.  “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.” (1 Peter 4:12) 

Honestly, though, we’d rather not weep and lament. To avoid this sensation, we distract ourselves with other things. We think of better times. We hope the world isn’t all that evil, because it looks like they’re enjoying themselves. Or wait to be rescued from this place. We find our escape from this road by not being on it, in any way possible. In our prayers, we ask for this weeping and lamenting to go away. We pray to be anywhere else.  Make the nightmares stop, make the grief and sorrow end, by taking us out of it, putting us somewhere else.

Is it then any wonder then why our world consumes so much entertainment? Are we surprised when so many people are way too busy for their own good? When’s the last time you had a truly quiet moment of reflection? Do not be so shocked by drug and alcohol addicts. They’re just doing what we do, only with stronger doses. We want to escape from suffering so badly, that many people will try anything. We will even judge God, whether He is good or not, by how well He can make our griefs disappear. But it never happens. He doesn’t do that. We are on the road to Emmaus. We do mourn and the bread indeed is bitter.

As one wise saint once told me at the death of her husband, we don’t have to like it.  So, we don’t need deny it and pretend it’s not that bad.  The hurt we experience is real when vows are broken.  It really is a dreadful violation when your home is robbed.  It’s painful to see like Walther League or a church choir, laid aside forgotten.  You can’t deny that it cuts deep when you see your friends and peers in the obituaries.  It’s not a figment of your imagination, and it does not mean your faith isn’t strong enough.  “Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice.”  Don’t be ashamed to weep. Don’t struggle to put on a good face and hide it from your brothers and sisters in Christ when they ask you how you’re doing. You have the Lord’s permission to lament.

But Easter comes after Good Friday: “Your sorrow will turn into joy.”  That’s the ultimate end of the promise, because Christ Himself has been to the grave.  Sin unleashed its fury on Him.  For three long days the grave did its worst, until by God its strength was dispersed.[1] Because God died for us, the sorrows of all who believe in Him will turn to joy.

Honestly, though, it can seems like shallow comfort in the midst of it.  That’s what makes the analogy Jesus gives so appropriate: “21When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.” (John 16:21)  The suffering and anguish we face is like that of a woman in the throes of labor.  The pain seems to go from worse to worse. Every moment excruciating. She just wants it to be over.  Isn’t there any easier way? Any platitudes you try to offer her will be repaid with a punch to the gut: “In the end it will all be worth it!” “It could be worse.” “I know how you feel.”  The only thing that will really help is when the baby is delivered.  Then she can rest.  Then the joy can truly be appreciated.

The time of joy is on the horizon.  We are in the midst of labor pains, sorrow, weeping, and lamenting.  But the risen Christ is our guarantee that we will have joy that will not come to an end, which no one will be able to take from us. As Psalm 30 so memorably puts it, “Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.” (Ps. 30:5)

The world around us rejoices—celebrating the pleasurable things of this world like prosperity, youth, technological advancements, and other new ways to feed people’s insatiable appetite for enjoyment. They look down upon us, as if we’re living in the “dark ages” and accuse Christians of spoiling their fun with what they call hate speech. But it’s only because the truth is that this world is passing away. The deeds done on it will be judged, and only the repentant and believing will be saved. Together with God, we pray for this for the people of this world, because we have hope beyond this life.

Today, we celebrate the Day of Resurrection, the hope of the new creation already begun now that Jesus is risen from the dead.  Even while we weep and lament in the old creation, we yet have a joy which no one is able to take from us—not the sadness of life, not the devil who lures us into despair and unbelief, not even the grave itself. Remember the words of St. Paul, “36 As it is written, ‘For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.’ 37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Rom. 8:36-39)

Really, it’s hard to imagine what that will be like now, yet we follow our Lord.  He was taken away from us for a little while as He lay dead and buried, but He rose on the Third Day (just as He said He would, and just as the Scriptures foretold).  All who belong to Him will likewise follow Him through the sorrow, the weeping, the dying…and the rising!  He promised that this would happen, and He promised that He will give us the strength to bear our labors until He gives us rest in death and ultimately resurrected life.

In that Day, the words of Psalm 66 which we prayed at the beginning of the service will be entirely fulfilled: “Shout for joy to God, all the earth. Sing the glory of his name; give to him glorious praise!” (Ps. 66:1-2) In the Name + of Jesus. Amen.

[1] Christ is Arisen! Alleluia! (LSB 466, st. 2)

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Fourth Sunday of Easter (Jubilate)

Readings: Isaiah 40:25–31 | 1 Peter 2:11–20 | John 16:16-22

Text: John 16:16-22

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

There is a caricature of Christianity that says because Christ is risen, we should always be happy, always be looking up, and seeing the bright side of everything.  It’s backed up by dreadful platitudes like, “God has a plan.” And “He never gives you more than you can handle.” This is a deadly lie, because it is dishonest both to our Lord and His suffering, and because it is woefully out of touch with reality.

Yes, Jesus has won salvation for us and forgives our sins, but He has not yet moved us to paradise. St. Paul teaches us to rejoice always, but also to endure suffering. We know that Jesus lives. But the cross we bear is unavoidably real.

This is the lesson our forefathers in the faith have taught us. Adam and Eve had sorrows even after they were spared death and nakedness by God’s intervention and promise; they had to bury their son, Abel. King David had sorrows and horrible consequences for his sins, even after he received the absolution from the prophet, Nathan. His first son by Bathsheba still dies. Even after the events of Easter, the personal appearances of Jesus, the sending of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost, the apostles still had many sorrows.  Despite that comment Jesus made to Peter, ““If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you?” John had to carry on the apostolic ministry after all the others had died.

We have sorrows even after Baptism—and the more we bear the Name of Christ and strive to live by His Word, the more we will be attacked and hated by this world’s prince. Jesus predicted this He said: “Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy.”  He told us this ahead of time, so it would not be a shock.

The salvation which our Lord Jesus won for us is real.  We are not saying a platitude to affirm that Christ is risen. I know that my Redeemer lives, what comfort that sweet sentence gives.  This truth gives us joy now. It changes us and puts all the world into perspective.  It’s far from being the once-and-done solution we wish it would be, but it’s what St. Paul describes to us in Romans 5:

“Since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame.” (Rom. 5:1-5)

But this salvation is not fully realized before the Christ’s return. Until that Day, we have sorrows and our faith waits for the fullness to come.

These sorrows come upon us simply from living in this broken and unjust world. Misfortune and tragedy happen to us and to our loved ones. We are often victims of injustice at the hands of the powerful and sometimes even at the hands of our friends and families. We cry out to God and ask why this happens, but He does not give us that answer.  Rather, we all go the way of the cross—“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” (Mark 8:34)  The disciple is not above his teacher [Matt. 10:24-25].  Yet, unlike our Teacher, we are not completely innocent. We complicate these sorrows by our sinful choices and our reactions to what God allows or sends. The old man in us is not yet fully crushed. We act in anger, pride, short-sightedness, and selfishness that is not from our heavenly Father, but is as James says, “is earthly, unspiritual, demonic.” (James 1:15)  None of us is a completely innocent victim.

Our Lord compares all of this to a woman in labor.

21 When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.

His primary point is that our suffering is temporary. The reward of eternal life with Him which follows our suffering will be so great and joyous that we will forget, in a sense, the suffering which we endured. St. Paul makes the same point when he says “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.” (Romans 8:18)  He goes on there to explain how the creation is subject to futility, groaning the day when Christ returns.

There is also a hint in our Lord’s illustration of childbirth that our suffering is a consequence of our sins. It is a holy chastisement from our Father. The pain and danger of labor is the explicit a punishment and consequence for Adam and Eve’s disobedience in the garden:

“And I will put enmity Between you and the woman, And between your seed and her Seed; He shall bruise your head, And you shall bruise His heel.” To the woman He said: “I will greatly multiply your sorrow and your conception; In pain you shall bring forth children” (Genesis 3:15-16)

The pain and danger of childbirth are a curse upon us. Yet human birth under the Law is the means by which God became a Man for us and saved us—“Yet she will be saved through childbearing,” the Apostle says to all of Eve’s daughters (1 Tim. 2:15). Our Lord Jesus Christ is that Seed of Eve, born of Mary under the Law, with sorrow and pain. His heel was bruised by Satan on the cross until all of the Father’s wrath was appeased and every last accusation of Satan against us disappeared from his mouth and death itself lost its sting.

Only when all of the Law had been completed, did our Lord say, “It is finished” (John 19:30) and so it was. There was no more ransom left to pay, no more that needed to be done to Satan to pry us loose from the strong man’s house. Jesus then submitted to death in obedience to His Father. His Body and His Soul were rent apart. Then, on the third day, He rose again. Even what men in this evil and unjust world had done, God worked for good. The curse of the Law in labor led to the Gospel of peace in resurrection.

Mary, the blessed Virgin and mother of our Lord, is the prime example to us of faith. The angel Gabriel foretells her honor by God, an honor that will bring pain and shame among men. “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. 31 And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. 32 He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, 33 and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” In response she says, “Let it be to me according to your Word.” (Luke 1:27-38). She accepts the honor and willingly bears the burden. She is the most blessed of women, and even still, as Simeon said after the Nunc Dimittis, “a sword will pierce through your own soul also.” (Luke 2:35)  Mary must watch her innocent Son be brutalized and slandered and killed in the most horrific way imaginable. She has sorrow. Then she sees Him again. He rises. But again, His visible presence is removed from her and He ascends to the Father. Until she is transferred to glory, Mary gets her Son no differently than we do. She has Him by His promise in His Word and in the breaking of the bread. Until God delivers her from every evil of body and soul, she must wait, she must live in this evil place, in the midst of sorrow, by faith, learning to rejoice in all things.

And so it goes for us as well.  We are truly children of God, born from above in the Baptismal waters, and forgiven of all our sins.  In this, and all of God’s promises, we rejoice always. Yet we also have sorrows now. Our sins deserve punishment, and our flesh will fight against the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. In all this, Christ’s grace is sufficient. We endure all this in faith, hopeful and expectant. We look to His Word for comfort and we look for His return in glory when we will be complete, when our hearts will rejoice and our joy no one will take from us.

Because of this, Christians have a much better reason to celebrate Mother’s Day.  It’s far more than a celebration of human achievement. After all, we know the frailty of that—the broken ties, wombs that cannot bear, and children who have been taken by death.  No, far greater than a celebration of motherhood under the Law and death, we rejoice in the fruit of Mary’s womb.  For by Him, all of you have the gift of eternal life.  You have the joy which no one can take from you. In the Name + of Jesus. Amen.

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Third Sunday after Easter (Jubilate) (John 16:16-22)

Bethlehem Lutheran & Bethel Lutheran Church, Lebanon & Sweet Home, OR
Third Sunday after Easter (Jubilate) + April 22, 2018
Text: John 16:16-22

Among the many promises of God, we have our favorites:

  • “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool.” (Isaiah 1:18)
  • “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” (Isaiah 43:2)
  • “Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, 26and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.” (John 11:25–26)

But there’s one more the Lord makes in today’s Gospel, which probably won’t make anyone’s list of favorites: “Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy.”  This is a promise we can count on being true today: Truly, truly, I say to you; Amen. Amen. You will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. He does not say, if your faith is weak, you will weep. Nor does He say, if you go astray, you will lament.  It’s true for every believer.  If you follow Jesus, you will weep and lament.  We should not be surprised when this life causes us grief and sorrow.  “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.” (1 Peter 4:12)
 
We don’t have to like it.  We don’t need deny it and pretend it’s not that bad.  The hurt is real when vows are broken.  It really is a dreadful violation when your home is robbed.  It’s painful to see like Walther League or a church choir, laid aside forgotten.  You can’t deny that it cuts deep when you see your friends and peers in the obituaries.  It’s not a figment of your imagination, and it does not mean your faith isn’t strong enough.  Don’t be ashamed to cry. Don’t put on a good face and hide it from other people here when they ask you how you’re doing.  If anyone gives you flack, tell them Jesus told you it was ok: “Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament.”
 
But Easter comes after Good Friday: “Your sorrow will turn into joy.”  That’s the ultimate end of the promise, because Christ Himself has been to the grave.  Sin unleashed its fury on Him.  For three long days the grave did its worst, until by God its strength was dispersed.[1] Because God died for us, the sorrows of all who believe in Him will turn to joy.
 
Honestly, though, it can seems like shallow comfort in the midst of it.  That’s what makes the analogy Jesus gives so appropriate: “21When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.” (John 16:21)  The suffering and anguish we face is like that of a woman in the throes of labor.  The pain seems to go from worse to worse. She just wants it to be over.  Isn’t there any easier way?  Any platitudes you try to offer her will be repaid with a punch to the gut: “In the end it will all be worth it!” “It could be worse.” “I know how you feel.”  The only thing that will really help is when the baby is delivered.  Then she can rest.  Then the joy can truly be appreciated.
 
The time of joy is still on the horizon.  We are in the midst of labor pains, sorrow, weeping, and lamenting.  But the risen Christ is our guarantee that we will have joy that will not come to an end, which no one will be able to take from us.
 
Today, the world celebrates Earth Day with many festivities that promote conservation and sustainability.  While this world is full of beauty and it is the only place we have to live, it’s also the place of our lament, the old, broken creation.  Christians have something greater to rejoice in.
 
Today (as every Sunday), we celebrate Resurrection Day, the hope of the new creation already begun when Jesus rose from the dead.  Even while we weep and lament in the old creation, we yet have a joy which no one is able to take from us—not the sadness of life, not the devil who lures us into despair and unbelief, not even the grave itself.
 
Really, it’s hard to imagine what that will be like now, yet we follow our Lord.  He was taken away from us for a little while as He lay dead and buried, but He arose on the Third Day (just as He said He would, and just as the Scriptures foretold).  All who belong to Him will likewise follow Him through the sorrow, the weeping, the dying…and the rising!  He gives us the strength to bear our labors until He gives us rest in death and ultimately resurrected life.
 
In that Day, the words of Psalm 66 which we prayed at the beginning of the service will be entirely fulfilled: “Shout for joy to God, all the earth. Sing the glory of his name; give to him glorious praise!” (Ps. 66:1-2)  Alleluia! Praise the Lord.  Amen.
 
[1] Christ is Arisen! Alleluia! (LSB 466, st. 2)