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The New Has Come. Funeral Sermon Eunice A. Frenk. June 6 2019

June 6, 2019 1 comment

In Memoriam + Eunice A. Frenk

St. Peter Lutheran Church (Carlson)

2 Corinthians 5:13-21 (Is. 65:17-24; Luke 2:36-38)

June 6, 2019

The New Has Come

 

Iesu Iuva

 

Friends in Christ,

 

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

 

The other day I read a sermon from almost five hundred years ago, preached by the pastor in Wittenberg at the funeral of Martin Luther.  He started off by saying, “I’m supposed to preach a sermon at the funeral of our beloved Dr. Luther, which I am glad to do, except I’m not sure how I will be able to since I will barely be able to get through two words without crying.”  And he goes on and says, I will probably cause more crying by my sermon, because how can we not mourn sincerely when ”God has sent us this sorrow and has taken from us this noble and dear man…”?

 

Well, that is the way it is for us today who knew Eunice Frenk well.  We are at the funeral of a woman who touched so many people. It is remarkable to me how many people spent a little time with Eunice and received love from her and they never forgot it.

 

For us as a church at St. Peter it is especially difficult, because she was a powerful influence and an example of Christian faith and love.  She influenced people to hold to God’s pure Word, to go to church, to study the Scriptures.  She was a dedicated worker in God’s house and she motivated other people by her example.  And she was the living link to the pastors from whose mouths and hands so many people in Joliet became Christians and remained Christians, as they were baptized and preached to and fed the body and blood of Christ by Rev. Erdmann and Martin Frenk, Eunice’s father and brother.  Now that she is gone, it is like the end of an era, and that is a source of grief.  And many people at St. Peter will feel like the people in Wittenberg must have felt when Martin Luther died—what will become of us now?

 

One way to answer that question might be in the words of Eunice’s favorite verse, from Psalm 46: Be still, and know that I am God.  Or in the words of the hymn Martin Luther wrote based on that psalm: The Word they still shall let remain, Nor any thanks have for it.  He’s by our side upon the plain With His good gifts and Spirit.

 

Eunice gave me a wood carving with that hymn on it at my ordination, I think; it hangs in the wall of my office.  She sang that hymn with Sandy a lot of times in the last days she was on earth.  Her hymn and her verse tell us: God will not forsake those who cling to His Word.  He is faithful and strong.

 

But there is another word from God in the reading from 2 Corinthians 5 that stands before us as our comfort today: Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.  The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.  (2 Cor. 5:17)

 

Talking about Martin Luther as I have been doing is not “new” and up to date.  It is old.  What Martin Luther did and what he taught mattered to Lutherans in Eunice’s generation, and it mattered even to Christians in other churches.  But in our day fewer people care about Martin Luther and what He said and did.  It’s seen as ancient, irrelevant history by many.

 

But Eunice did care.  She cared what Martin Luther taught not just because she was raised a Lutheran, but because she believed in and cared about the good news that Martin Luther proclaimed from the Bible.  Eunice cared about God’s Word, and she believed that God’s pure word was taught by Luther and by the teachers that confessed the same faith.  I know this is true because this is what I came to St. Peter preaching, and Eunice encouraged me to continue in it, and to be bolder in preaching it.

 

And she also told me not to worry about how long it took to preach it.  She might have been the only one who felt that way.  But she said one Sunday that if I succeeded in whittling my sermons down to ten minutes like I was saying I was going to do, that it “almost wouldn’t be worth getting up on Sunday morning and going to church.”

 

That was the other thing about Eunice.  She didn’t just care about Luther, doctrine, and her church.  She also cared about people; she encouraged people.  Now this I doubt I have to tell any of you about, but I will anyway.  When I came here, and Pastor Jany retired, we had funerals all the time.  Sometimes it seemed like there would be one almost every week.  Eunice came to every one—even the people who had long since ceased being members of St. Peter, even the people no one else knew.  She cared about everyone who had ever been a member here, almost as if she were their pastor.  Not that she in any way horned in on the pastoral office—there was not even a hint of that.  She just loved people like a Christian.  Not only that, but she sent Christmas cards in which she would type up a Christian message to everyone in the church and I think everyone who had left the church and probably everyone she had known in Joliet who never went to St. Peter.  If you are here today you probably got one.  She sent out birthday cards too.  But I never got the faintest impression that Eunice was doing this to be holier than thou, or because she was the Pastor Erdmann’s daughter.  She did it out of genuine love.  She loved people.  She cared about their eternal welfare.

 

That is in addition to serving on nearly every board or committee at St. Peter—except, as she joked, the men’s group.  She was a Sunday School teacher, leader of the Mission society, member of the ladies’ aid and the altar guild.  And she taught Spanish for 30 years at Joliet Township High School and at the junior college.  The testimony to her excellence at her work is that 2 years in they made her head of the foreign language department.  But an even greater testimony is how many of her former students I have met who had a lifelong bond with her because of the years they spent with her as a teacher.

 

So how do we not get emotional, how do we not grieve to lose her?

 

Well, we can’t avoid grieving.  But we should not fail to thank God for her, because she was like Anna the prophetess, who was in our midst pointing us to Jesus Christ as our redeemer.  And we should be glad for her, because the Scripture says: If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.  And that means that Eunice, who was in Christ and is in Christ, has a place in the new heavens and earth that God will soon make visible, about which Isaiah said: For behold, I create a new heavens and a new earth, and the former things shall not be remembered or come into mind…I will rejoice in Jerusalem and be glad in my people; no more shall be heard in it the sound of weeping and the cry of distress. (Is. 65:17, 19) 

 

That is over for Eunice—the tears we are shedding now, and the many we will shed in the rest of our lives.  She belongs to the new creation God is preparing, where there are no more tears and pain and death, where the griefs of this creation aren’t even remembered.

 

The way she lived on earth testified that she belonged to the new creation and not to this old one.  The reading from 2 Corinthians contains her confirmation verse:  and He (Jesus) died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves, but for Him who for their sake died and was raised (2 Cor. 5:15). 

 

Eunice lived this verse.  That was why she cared about Jesus’ pure Word.  That was why she loved and served people so faithfully and diligently in church and in every area of her life.  She didn’t live for herself; she lived for Jesus.

 

Will people be able to say that about you and me when we die?  Is it true of us?  Some of us, if we are honest, will have to say, “No, I have not lived for Jesus who died for me.  I have lived for myself.”  Others will say, “I have tried.  I have wanted to, but I fail and fall down over and over again.”

 

The good news for us is that Eunice’s confirmation verse rests on the verse before it, on something God has already done for us.   For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died (2 Cor. 5:14).  And that is wonderful news for all of us who are not Eunice, but who are sinners who believe in the same Lord as Eunice.  One has died for all—we know what that means.  Jesus died for all people.  He died for the sins of the whole world, and for all of my sins, and yours.  All of our failures to live for Him.  All of them died with Jesus.  They no longer stand against us before God.  They are blotted out of His book.  The only people who have sins before God are those who want to keep their sins—who refuse Jesus because they want to go on in their sins.

 

But 2 Corinthians 5 tells us: One died for all, therefore all have died.

 

Even though you are still alive, apparently, and worse than that, even though your sinful nature is alive every day, kicking and screaming and wanting to live for yourself, before God, you have died.  That is not you anymore.  It is not counted to you.  Jesus died for your sins and for that old self.  That means, before God, you died.  You are not the old you.  You are alive from the dead.  You have a new life, and everything from your old life no longer stands before God.  The old has gone, the new has come!  You don’t belong to this old world because your sins are forgiven and blotted out.  You belong to the One who died for you.

 

So did Eunice.  She was a new creation living in the old one.  She believed Jesus had died for her, and that meant she had died to her old nature and arisen to live before God as a new creation in Christ, as the righteousness of God in Him (2 Cor. 5:21).  And she was right to believe this, because it did not depend on her doing and striving.  It depended on the one who died for all.  And He pledged that what He had done in His death was for her.  He pledged it when she was baptized, and she was joined to Christ, covered with His righteousness as the pall covers her casket now.  Filled with His light and life, as the paschal candle stands at the head of her casket.

 

He pledged it to her when she came down to this altar and received the body that Jesus gave into death for her and the blood He shed for her.

 

Jesus gives us the same pledges.  Through them God makes His appeal to us—in the sacraments, in the preaching of the Gospel.  He says, “I am reconciled to you.  All your sins have died with my Son.  The old has gone, the new has come.”

 

Paul says, because this is true, we don’t regard people according to the flesh—according to who they are by nature.  Just as when you looked at Jesus you couldn’t see He was the Son of God—so Paul says we should not look at Christians according to their outward appearance.  If you believe in Christ, you are a new creation.  The old has passed away.  Everything old about you, and the power of this fallen world has passed away.  Behold, the new has come.  You belong to the new world, where tears are no longer remembered and joy alone remains.  When you look at Eunice now, you should not judge her according to the flesh, but according to the Word of God that says this old world of death and sin has passed away for her, and the new world of eternal life is ahead.

 

That is the hope for us now that we have no Eunice and not many shining examples of Christ’s life among us.  And in a world where the Word of God is cast aside as something old and useless.

 

The old has gone, the new has come.  One died for all, and we all died, and we have a new life that comes from Him as a pure gift.

 

Let us rejoice for Eunice, that all that remains for her is the new.

 

Let us hope in God who calls us a new creation.

 

The peace of God that passes understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.  Amen.

 

Soli Deo Gloria

 

 

Belonging to Christ instead of Belonging to Ourselves. Funeral Sermon May 20, 2019. John 10:27-30, James 4:13-17

In Memoriam + Eleanor Rousonelos

St. Peter Lutheran Church (Dames)

St. John 10:27-30 (James 4:13-17, Is. 35:3-10)

May 20, 2019

Belonging to Christ instead of Belonging to Ourselves

 

Iesu iuva!

 

Tony and Jan, Patrick,

Grandchildren and Great-Grandchildren of Eleanor,

Frances, her sister,

All Eleanor’s friends and family,

Members of St. Peter:

 

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ!

 

God’s Word for our comfort this morning is drawn especially from these words of Jesus in St. John’s Gospel:

 

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.  I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.  John 10:27-28

 

These words of Jesus contrast with the stern words we heard from James, the relative of Jesus: Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and…trade and make a profit.’  Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring.  What is your life?  For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.  (James 4:13-14)

 

James’ description fits the way everyone lives and thinks apart from God’s grace.  It is the way of thinking and living that believes that we are in control of our lives.  Even when we know better we live this way.

 

Most people live as if they are much more important than they really are; we behave as if we have a lot more power over our lives than we actually do.  We are actually a mist that appears for a little while and vanishes, as St. James tells us.  We are not really in control of our lives.  It is given to us by God.  It is, as we say, a gift—and a gift that after a time, He takes away.

 

Since we are so impermanent, it doesn’t make sense for us to make confident boasts about what we will do today and tomorrow, what we will accomplish for ourselves.  We ought to recognize that God has given us our lives and that our purpose each day should be to spend that little bit of life to please Him.

 

But even if we acknowledge that this is true, it’s not how we live and think.  We might live conscious of these facts during times of great crisis or grief, but soon enough we go back to our old way.  What is natural for us is to think and act like James describes—as if we are in control.  To live as if our life is our own, to do with as we wish, instead of as we were meant to—offering it to God.  This is the way all people are since Adam.

 

This is also the reason our lives come to an end, and then we are judged by God.  James calls it “sin.”  When Eleanor was confirmed her pastor taught her that sin was not just bad choices but a condition into which we are born—“original sin”, she would have been taught.  And this state into which we are born is a state of death that continues into eternity in hell.

 

But Jesus describes another future, a much happier one, for those who are His.  My sheep hear my voice…they follow me.  I give them eternal life, and they will never perish.  (John 10:27-28)

 

Truly a very different outcome.  A much happier one; one that gives hope on days like today when we are forced to see that we are not really in control.

 

If we are our own, we are a mist that perishes with the sunrise.  But if we do not belong to ourselves, but to Jesus, He gives us eternal life, and we shall never perish (John 10:28). 

 

The downside—at least it appears this way to our fallen self—is that to have eternal life you have to be a sheep.  You have to belong not to yourself but to Jesus Christ.  You don’t stand on your own but you are part of a herd, His flock.  And frankly not a herd of respectable creatures but a herd of animals that are totally helpless unless guarded and led by a shepherd.

 

This is why many people are not really interested in Jesus or in the eternal life He promises.  They want to get up in the morning and say, “Today I’ll do this, tomorrow I’ll do that.”  They want to be in charge of themselves and have something to boast about.  They want to be strong.  And we think of this as freedom.

 

But it’s really a delusion.  We aren’t really this way.  We depend on others all the time.  All of you here today received things from Eleanor.  Many of you received life itself through her.  Others of you love and support.  To some of you her love and friendship was so important and powerful you may be sitting here in church wondering, “How am I going to live without her?”  Others of you will be able to live but it will be a life where you remember her every day, wish you could talk with her and show her what is happening in your life.

 

See how much we depend on other people to live and be happy?  Yet our fallen nature wants to maintain independence when it comes to God—not knowing that if God gives us what we desire we will be independent from life and everything that makes life good.

 

Yet if we belong to Jesus and not to ourselves, He freely gives to every one of His sheep everlasting life.  He doesn’t give everlasting life to everyone (because those who are not His sheep don’t want it).  He gives it only to His sheep.

 

How do you recognize the sheep that belong to Jesus?  The same way you find a shepherd’s flock.  Sheep gravitate to the voice of their shepherd because they know His voice and they trust Him.  So Jesus’ sheep listen to His voice.

 

Jesus’ voice calls out in the preaching of the Gospel.  When we heard James rebuke our arrogance, that was Jesus’ voice calling us to return and repent of our self-sufficiency.  But His voice is most clear in the Gospel, the good news of the forgiveness of sins.  Jesus is the good shepherd, the kind shepherd, and His voice is the voice that declares good news to the poor, the sinful, the lost and dying.  His proper message is a message of God’s free and unconditional mercy.  He says to those who have gone astray and know it that their sins are forgiven.  Not just those who have turned away from Him for a long time, or who perhaps have never believed in Him—but also those who have believed, who have been following Him.  The voice of Jesus proclaims the same good news to both—that He died that we might have life.

 

He gives His sheep eternal life not because they have earned it but because He has earned it for them.

 

Jesus’ sheep have sinned and gone astray the same as everyone else; we go astray the day we are conceived.  But the good shepherd died for His sheep.  He was condemned for our sins.  So He calls out in faithful preaching and in the Holy Scriptures, urging us to receive the free gift of eternal life.  And His sheep hear His voice.

 

They hear Him; they believe Him.  They are baptized or they return to their Baptism and its promise.   In Baptism they put on Jesus and His righteousness and holiness like a wedding dress.  Then they follow Jesus, together with His flock, His church. He leads them through death to resurrection, into a world where there is no more death and no more sadness.

 

Eleanor’s body is all covered up now in that pall that is a symbol of Jesus’ holiness and righteousness.  She was given that white robe to wear first when she was baptized.  All those years that she came here and heard the voice of Jesus in the sermon He was placing that garment on her again.  When she came to His table and received His body and blood, He was doing just as He says in John 10: I give them eternal life and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.  In His body and blood He was giving her eternal life while she still lived in this temporary life.

 

She was not her own, appearing for a little while and then vanishing.  She was among Jesus’ flock.  And He gave her what He gives His flock—eternal life—just as He wishes to give to each of You in His holy church through His Word and His body and blood.

 

Because He gave Eleanor eternal life in Baptism and His holy supper, we believe that now she is not dead but among His flock that is with Him.  They are lying down in green pasture but waiting to rise up again at the resurrection with all of His sheep who are still alive.  So we comfort ourselves that her shepherd has given her eternal life.

 

But we pray to this same Shepherd to keep us among His sheep, hearing His voice that proclaims the forgiveness of sins.

 

Amen.

 

The peace of God that passes understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

 

Soli Deo Gloria

Funeral Sermon. We Shall Be Changed. 1 Cor. 15:51-57

In Memoriam + Richard Maske

Tezak Funeral Home, Joliet, IL

1 Corinthians 15:51-57 (Isaiah 61: 1-3, 10, John 10: 11-16)

April 6, 2019

“We Shall Be Changed”

 

Iesu Iuva

 

Marie,

Mike,

Gary,

Karen,

Richard’s Sister, Delores,

And all his family and friends:

 

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

 

God’s Word for our comfort this morning will be drawn from all the readings, but in particular these words from 1 Corinthians 15:

 

For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed.

 

In church the season of Lent is drawing to its close, and we are moving from the season of renewal of baptismal life, of life in Christ, to the suffering and death of Jesus.

 

But outside of the church, Marie, you have already been through a long Lent, as you sat and watched and comforted your husband in his suffering.

 

The season of Lent and its pain is transformed into a new joy for believers.  It brings to fulfillment the hope expressed by the psalmist in Psalm 71 verse 20: You who have made me see many troubles and calamities will revive me again; from the depths of the earth you will bring me up again.  This is what God did in the Resurrection of Jesus.  And because of Jesus we have the same hope as we go through the passion of our loved ones with them.

 

St. Paul wrote 1 Corinthians 15 to comfort the Corinthian Christians about the resurrection of the body.  There were some people running around in the church in Corinth telling people there is no resurrection of the body.  Against this Paul affirms: Jesus rose bodily from the dead.  So we who believe in Jesus will rise from the dead in our bodies.

 

But Paul doesn’t just say, “We will rise;” he says, “We will be changed.”

 

What Paul meant by that can be likened to a wedding day.  When you and Richard married, Marie, you were young kids.  But when he saw you come down the aisle in your wedding dress, you were not just a girl anymore.  Not even just his fiancée, that he loved.

 

You were his bride.  You were his only one.  Your relationship was changed, and even your appearance was changed.

 

And when you saw him standing by the altar, he too was changed.  Of course he was the same person who proposed to you.  But now he was your husband, your bridegroom, the man to whom you were giving yourself for the rest of your life on earth.

 

Isaiah uses this analogy to a wedding for what God does to us when He proclaims the Gospel to us and causes us to believe in Jesus.  He clothes us in garments of salvation…like a bridegroom decks Himself in a beautiful headdress, like a bride with her jewels (Is. 61:10).

 

Paul says that at the resurrection we shall be changed.  But Richard was changed already.  God had already clothed him with the garments of salvation when he was baptized.

 

In the next couple of weeks we will see Jesus being the good shepherd.  He will give His life for His sheep.  He will pay for the broken law of God and all the people who have sinned against God by giving His life in their place.

 

He will save us from condemnation and hell by giving His life in our place, pierced with nails and lifted up on a cross.

 

When He did this He purchased and won our salvation.

 

He came and lived among us, hiding His majesty and power, so that His enemies could take Him in their hands, injure Him, nail Him to a cross, kill Him.  During His whole time on earth He lived with us like we live.  He got hungry, thirsty.  He got tired.  He bore with sinful people who treated Him badly.  He had the image of a mortal, weak man.

 

But when He rose from the dead, His appearance was changed.  He was no longer weak, mortal, perishable.  His body was immortal, undying.  Imperishable.  Strong.  He appeared in majesty, full of the glory of God.

 

And the body that emerged from the tomb was the firstfruits of the resurrection.  It is the way our bodies will appear at the resurrection.  We will be changed.  We will share in the glory of God.

 

Richard was baptized into this.  He was placed into Jesus’ death for his sins, but also into Jesus’ resurrection.  This is his rightful inheritance as a son of God who believes in Jesus and who is baptized into Him.

 

Paul says we shall be changed.  This is what awaits Richard.  Today we bury his body, but we do so confident that the Lord Jesus will return, the trumpet will sound and Richard will come forth imperishable and be changed.

 

And so this life he lived—which he spent with you, Marie—bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh,

 

In which he brought you his children into the world—

 

Is not swallowed up by death.

 

Instead in Richard death will be swallowed up by victory, the victory of Christ for him.

 

The pain and sin in Richard’s life has died, but the new life Jesus gave him in Baptism will soon be completed.

 

And this body that you put away into the earth—of your husband and father and brother—you will see again on the day when you also see your Lord Jesus Christ.  And when you see him, he will be changed.

 

Amen.

 

The peace of God that passes understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

 

Soli Deo Gloria

The Image of the Man From Heaven. Funeral Sermon

In Memoriam + Lucille Surdey

Carlson-Holmquist-Sayles Funeral Home

1 Corinthians 15:35-49

January 5, 2019

The Image of the Man of Heaven

 

Iesu Iuva

 

Donna, Bill,

Bill Jr., Beth,

And each of Lucille’s seven great-grandchildren,

All of her family, friends, and members of her church:

 

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

 

His word for our comfort this morning is from the 15th chapter of 1st Corinthians: Just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the man of heaven.  (verse 49)

 

When I visited your mother, your grandmother Lucille, I was there with what you could say is a limited purpose—to deliver to her the body and blood of Christ.  Probably that means I also saw a limited side of Lucille and her life and her personality.

 

But there are some things that can’t be hidden, especially when you come into someone’s home.   So you could hardly miss the treasures and the joys of Lucille’s life.  They were in front of her all the time, all along the walls; pictures of Donna and Bill, Beth and Bill, all four together, and all the great grandchildren.  Are there any greater treasures in this world, really, than your children, grandchildren, your flesh and blood?  Today many people my age and younger seem to think so, yet sometimes it appears that even though we are wealthier and have greater advantages than any of our ancestors, we are also more sad and angry than the generations before us.

 

Before her eyes were her offspring, and what was always on Lucille’s lips when I came to see her?  Thankfulness.  She would talk about how much God had given her.  What a blessing it was that she could live in her own home.

 

For a long time I would try sometimes, as subtly as I could, to get her to complain a little.  Sometimes it is good to give voice to your suffering and even to voice your complaint to God, as the Psalms say.

 

But as I have thought about it more I think maybe Lucille was right and not me.  Or at least I and maybe others in my generation could learn something from her in this regard.  Maybe she knew on a gut level what I ought to know better—that this world is not paradise, that we are not meant to be happy all the time here.  I know this from Sunday School and seminary and the Bible—we are fallen and this world, as Luther’s catechism says, is a “vale of tears” or a “valley of sorrows.”  Yet for me and I think many around my age, it’s hard to let go of the dream that, like Oprah or whoever we are going to transcend the limitations of human existence.  It could be just me that has unrealistic expectations like these, but I don’t think so.  Look around.  Look on the internet; everybody wants to be famous, everybody wants to be the star, the hero.

 

Lucille would talk about how when she was growing up her family had very little in the way of wealth.  They had their land and their hard work and they could lift up their heads.  But she said, “We didn’t notice that we didn’t have much.”  They were happy because they were busy working and they had each other, and not a lot of time for other things.

 

And probably from her childhood, she learned to work hard, to be faithful, and to be thankful for the gifts God gives you instead of always groaning over what you wish you had.  She had dignity in living that way.  And although it was by no means a perfect happiness she had happiness in the good gifts God gives in this world—especially in you, her family members and friends who are here to honor her today.

 

It is a hard pill to swallow that in this life we are not going to become gods and heroes.  In a certain sense we are already; we live longer and have advantages none of our ancestors did, and yet paradise always eludes our grasp and remains off on the horizon.  It’s hard—really impossible, humanly speaking—to accept what Paul said in the epistle reading: that we bear the image of the man of dust.  We are just like the first man.  Our bodies are formed from the dust of the earth and animated by a living soul.  We were created to live forever in communion with God.  But the first man of dust turned against the one who formed his body and breathed into him his soul; Adam wanted to be a god in his own right.  And so he came under the curse.  His life would be full of painful toil—sweat, failure, pain, lowliness—and then he would return to the dirt from which he was made.  Like Cinderella, sort of, who went back to being a nobody at the stroke of midnight—we were created in God’s image, but when we got proud and wanted to be gods on our own, we returned to the dust.  And we have the same image.  Adam’s sin became our sin, even before we made any choices.

 

We came from dust and we return to dust and there is no escaping it, not even for those who seem to be gods in this world.  And even worse—we will face judgment after that.  We will have to give an account to God for what we have done in the body—for every idle word, every evil thought, and all the deeds we try to hide from other people.

 

The Gospel of Jesus Christ does give us joy, peace, and happiness in this world, but that is not the good news.  The good news is that we who bear the image of the man of dust, that Lucille bore and that you, her offspring also bear, and her friends and relations—that you will bear the image of the man of heaven, Jesus Christ, if you believe His good news.

 

God made Adam’s body from the dust and breathed into him and, the man became a living soul according to Genesis (2: 7).  But the last Adam is not merely living, but a life-giving Spirit.  He was with the Father in the beginning.  Through Him Adam was created.  But then in the fullness of time He assumed a human nature from Mary the virgin.  In that body He bore our curse and humiliation and death and brought it to an end on the cross.  And from His body flows the Holy Spirit, who hovered over the waters of creation, whom we call “the Lord and giver of life.”  Jesus’ body is the fountain of life to all of us who were born with the image of the man of dust.

 

Now that He has risen from the dead, destroying it, conquering it, He plants His heavenly life in us who are of the earth.  He does that through means that appear to be of the earth and of the dirt.  He uses water.  He uses bread and wine.  He uses words from human mouths.  But they are not merely earthly—not merely earthly water, not merely grain that grows in the ground and wine pressed out of grapes.  They are heavenly because they are joined to His Word through which the water and the dirt and the grapes and the grain and human beings came into being.

 

Through these means Jesus, God and man, proclaims the good news.  I have become what you are, He says.  I have redeemed you from death.  I have taken away your sins.  He says it in preaching, in the Bible, in baptism, in absolution.

 

Through those means He gives us His Spirit.  He plants the everlasting life in us.  Not a life like Adam had, but a life like His—the eternal life, the unending life of God.

St. Paul says that this is the glory and the life that our bodies will have when they are raised from the graves on the last day.  They will be like Jesus’ body, and so they will live forever as He lives forever in His body, the same body that was pierced by the nails and wrapped in the linen cloths.

 

They will be like Jesus’ body, so they will share in the glory of God.  The light of God will shine from our bodies; the way Moses’ face shone when He came out of the tent of meeting where He spoke with God.  The glory in the bodies of Christians will be greater.  It will not be a reflected glory but a glory within us—just as Jesus’ face shone like the sun when He was transfigured.

 

Our bodies will be like Jesus’ body so they will be filled with the power of God.  We will not be subject to weakness and sickness, bent backs, bodies wracked with pain, minds full of turmoil.  God will dwell in our bodies.

 

This is the hope in which we lay Lucille’s body into the earth; in trust in Jesus, who has promised to raise up His believers in the image of His glory.  In this world she accepted that she was a child of Adam, subject to his curse.  But her Lord made her a promise that she would rise glorious with Him.

 

It’s hard for us to set our hope on the resurrection, which we have never seen, and which we can barely imagine.  But today as we lay Lucille to rest to await the resurrection, let us lift up our hearts to God and ask Him to give us His holy Spirit so that we set our hope on that day, the day when our bodies share fully in Jesus’ easter.  And to comfort us that when that day comes we will see Lucille emerged from the earth, planted and risen bearing the glory of God her Father and Jesus Christ her Lord.

 

The peace of God that passes understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.  Amen.

 

Soli Deo Gloria

Funeral Sermon: Acquainted with Grief. June 4, 2018

jesus man of sorrows durer.PNGIn Memoriam Kim J. Kinzler

Fred C. Dames Funeral Home

Isaiah 53:1-6; St. Matthew 11:25-30; 1 Cor. 15:20-26

June 4, 2018

“Acquainted with Grief”

 

Iesu Iuva

 

In the name of Jesus.

 

John, Michael,

Kim’s sisters, family, friends, loved ones:

 

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.  Amen.

 

It says Jesus was “a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.”  (Is. 53:3)

 

It’s hard to think this way about God: “acquainted with grief.”  The defining characteristic of God is that He is all powerful.  If you are all-powerful, you shouldn’t suffer.

 

I think just about all of us here went to catechism or CCD or Sunday school.

 

If you learned anything there, you learned that Jesus is God.  So how can God be “acquainted with grief”?  As though He sat down with grief, got to know grief personally?

 

This is why most of the people who saw Jesus and heard Him did not believe He was God.  God should not be broke and hungry.  He should not be beaten when He did nothing wrong, or die a death of shame and great agony, suddenly ripped away from life, His mother, His friends.

 

And we think: if God is with you, if He loves you, these things shouldn’t happen to you either.

 

Yet here we are this morning.  Kim, a man loved by many people, who showed love to many people, a man who confessed his faith in Jesus Christ, suddenly gone.  Grief gone over our heads.  Where there is grief, guilt is never far away.  Anger is never far away.

 

When a man dies there are things that feel unfinished.  There is regret, not only for him at the things he wishes he would have done better in his life, but also for those who loved him.  There is anger or regret simply at the opportunities that were never there—maybe at God, maybe at the people who never gave those opportunities and could have.

 

Death holds up before our faces all that is wrong with us, with those close to us, and with the world itself.  There is so much in the world that is good and beautiful.  It seems as though things could turn out differently, happily.  You can see it in the pictures of Kim’s life over there.  You can see glimpses of it in your happy memories of him.  The picture of Kim with his two young sons over there.  The pictures of him with Lora, whom he loved.  Yet there are so few things in this world that have a clean ending, that end “happily ever after.”

 

So we try to make things right.  We try to make the pieces fit, to solve things.  To assign reasons for our grief.  We make judgments and assign guilt.  But it doesn’t work.

 

The Lord God, who has all power, speaks to us in the midst of grief, guilt, and death.  But who believes what He says? Isaiah asks.  Who recognizes the arm of the Lord, God the Father’s strong arm working a solution to our grief?  Working rescue, salvation?

 

My dad, John and Mike, was different from your dad.  My mom was the one who did just about everything for me, yet it seems like I have never gotten over my dad, and he died more than ten years ago.  But when I was young, I always wanted my dad to come out with a strong hand and make everything right.

 

God the Father has done that—He has made bare His strong arm to deliver us from all that is broken and can’t be made right.  But no one has recognized it.

 

Because He had no form or majesty that we should look at Him, and no beauty that we should desire Him.   He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces, He was despised, and we esteemed Him not.  Is. 53:1-3

 

Nobody thought anything of what God the Father did to rescue us, because what He did was give His Son to become one of us, and live in our confusion and grief.  He looked like one of us and made Himself one of us.

 

How is that going to help us?  Two thousand years later, we still don’t see it, even though it has been preached to us and our fathers before us for centuries.

 

It helps us because He bore our griefs and carried our sorrows…He was wounded for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with His stripes we are healed.  We all like sheep have gone astray.  We have turned, every one, to his own way, and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.  Is. 53:4-6

 

The sin and failures of our first father, Adam—laid on Jesus.  The sin and failures of Kim, from his birth until death—laid on Jesus.  Your sins and failures—God the Father placed them on this man, who was well-acquainted with grief—with the grief we have suffered because others have done us wrong, with the grief that comes to us or waits for us because of the wrongs we have done.  All of this guilt, this grief, the Father laid on His Son, and He was crushed, He was punished with stripes, He was crucified, He died in our guilt and our grief.

 

This brings us peace.  It is a peace we cannot accomplish for ourselves.  It is peace with God—that our sins have been paid for, forgiven, and removed, no matter what grief falls on us in this world.  With God Jesus has made peace for us with His blood.

 

And so Jesus says, Come to Me, all who are laboring and straining and pressed down by burdens—and I will give you rest.  (Matt. 11)  He will give you rest from the burden of grief because He has already carried it and made an end of it in His wounds.

 

He does not just give relief in this life, but He gives you a life that swallows up the grief, guilt, and confusion of this one.  Just as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive.  (1 Cor 15:22)  When you were baptized, when Kim was baptized, the new life in which Jesus broke forth from the tomb on Easter morning was put into you and into him.  We walk away from it, but Jesus invites us back to it.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  He means—trust in Him for your salvation; trust in Him to heal your wounds and carry your guilt and your grief.  Learn from Him.  Hear His Word, receive His body and blood that give you forgiveness and life.

 

And the peace of God that passes understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.  Amen.

 

Soli Deo Gloria

Set Your Mind on Things Above. Funeral Sermon, May 3, 2018

ezekiel wheelFuneral Sermon for JoAnn Sallese

Blackburn-Giegerich-Sonntag Funeral Home

1 Corinthians 15:12-26; John 11:25-26

May 3, 2018

Set Your Mind on Things Above

 

Iesu Iuva

 

Tony,

Mary, Margie, and Tony,

All of JoAnn’s loved ones and friends, including her sister Genevieve, who was here only a week ago and is prevented from making the journey across the country again:

 

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God the Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.  Amen.

 

There are over 43 thousand radio stations across the world.  Each day, they broadcast their message into people’s ears as they work, drive, and sleep.  Each year, they produce 290 million hours of programming, and of that programming, 35 million hours are commercials, ads.

 

Those 35 millions hours of advertisements are designed to persuade listeners to set their minds on obtaining material things so that they will have happier and more fulfilled lives on earth.

 

But what the advertisers advise us to set our minds on is totally opposite what God’s Word, the Bible advises us.  Set your mind on things above, God exhorted Christians through the apostle Paul.  Set your minds on things above, not things that are on earth.  (Colossians 3:2). 

 

Why?  Because however good things are on earth, the things above are better, and the things that God promises us in His Word through faith in Jesus Christ are forever.  But the things on earth are only for a time, both the good things and the bad.

 

According to Bible scholars, one sixth of the New Testament is focused on the joy of heaven and eternal life at the return of Jesus Christ.  It was the hope and the joy that filled Christians throughout the two thousand years since Christ died and rose again.  Because they believed in Him, that He had died for their sins and risen again, they had a hope that extended past the pleasures of this life, and also its pains.

 

Although we live in this world where death still seems to rule over everything, and we are tempted to snatch pleasure while we can, where we can, God wants something better than that for us.  He wants us to have the certain hope of eternal life, of reunion with Him and with all the people we love who were united with Him on earth by faith in His Son.  He intends for that hope to give us joy in the midst of the worst pains of this life, and to give us a pleasure that is greater than the pleasures that may be found in “setting our minds on things below.”

 

It’s hard to think about all that right now.  It’s quite possible today that it’s hard to think or set your mind on anything.  Sometimes at funerals people sob and feel like they are about to break apart with grief.  But just as often there is a blank look on people’s faces, a look of lostness, of emptiness, shock.

 

That is the way people act when their loved ones die.  And also, sometimes, there is more.  Sometimes, guilt—they feel that they did not love or treat their loved one as they ought to have, or appreciate them as they should have.  Sometimes it’s anger—anger at the doctors who may have failed in treating their loved one, or anger at other people in the family for not doing more.  Maybe, even, anger at God for taking someone they loved, or allowing them to be taken away.

 

Christians grieve like this too.  They have the feeling of loss, of being lost.  Going to church doesn’t take that away when a loved one dies.  Yet I have noticed something in a decade of being a pastor in which I have ministered to many grieving families—usually those who are grieving who have stayed near to Christ, near to His Word when it is preached and taught, near to His altar where He gives us His body and blood—as they weep, they are held up, as though there were an invisible rock underneath them.  They are sustained by a life that is stronger than death.  In the midst of their tears they have an assurance, beneath their own weakness, that does not come from themselves.  They have an assurance that they have a gracious God, who is for them, and who loves them, who forgives their sins and takes them and their loved ones to heaven, and who in the end will raise their bodies from the dead so that they are like the glorious body of Jesus after He rose from the dead.

 

JoAnn was a beautiful woman in her youth, as anyone can see from her picture, and her husband of 29 years summed her up using that word: she always did things to appreciate beauty and practicality.  Which is a rare combination.  Quite often the poetic personality that notices beautiful things is not the person you count on to mow the lawn or paint the garage.  But JoAnn was the type who did both; who was ready to do anything the American Legion asked her to do, was willing to do the tasks necessary to have an organization that supports and honors veterans.  She opened her home to her step-children and when her mother was old she cooked her dinner and brought it to her every day.  And she did all this even though she had health difficulties and pain that would have made it easy to think of herself only.

 

Those who received these blessings through JoAnn can rightly give thanks to God for the blessing she was to them.

 

But what now, as you experience the feeling of loss and separation, the feeling of being torn from her or having her torn from you?  What will end that pain, console that pain, that feeling of loss, today, the next time you are confronted by death?

 

Maybe alcohol, temporarily, or getting busy with work or a project.  These can help temporarily.

 

But the only lasting answer is to Set your mind on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.  To be able to say, I have a place in heaven with God, where there will be no more crying, no more death, no more grieving.

 

But why don’t people do this?  Even Christians don’t do it well.  Why not?  Because we can’t see heaven.  And even worse, who can be certain that if it exists, they will go there?  Who knows if I have done enough to have a place in heaven?

 

People say this all the time.  “I hope God forgives me, and I go to heaven.”  There aren’t many people who say with confidence, “I am going to heaven, and I know that God forgives my sins.”  And when people do say it, most people think they sound arrogant.  Because we think that such people are bragging about how good they are, or how strong their faith is.

 

But God tells us to set our minds on things above because He has promised the “things above” as a free giftto the world.  He has promised eternal life because He has already taken away our sins.

 

This is what Paul kept saying in the reading we heard earlier.  Because Christ was raised from the dead, we also will be raised from the dead.  Christ’s resurrection from the dead is the proof that God has forgiven the sins of all human beings, beginning with the first one, Adam.

 

Mary told me that she and JoAnn traced JoAnn’s family tree and took pictures of headstones for a genealogy website.  I signed up for that website too, but I didn’t take that many pictures.  But to do it you have to spend a lot of time in cemeteries.  We think of cemeteries as places of the dead.  But the word actually is similar to the word “dormitory”—it refers to a sleeping place.  Christians named them that because of their faith that the dead in Christ would rise again to eternal life.

 

To rise again and live forever means your sins have been forgiven.  When the first man died and was buried, it was not the way it was supposed to be.  It happened because the first man disobeyed God and bought into the lie that if he took the one thing on earth that God had forbidden, he would be happy.  He would be “like God”.  Instead of becoming a god, he became mortal.  But if you rise from your grave, it means that God has forgiven you, set you free.

 

When Jesus rose from the dead, God was publicly announcing that He was forgiven.  Not that Jesus sinned.  But when He died on the cross, He was dying for the sins of the whole human race, from the first man on down.  That’s why Paul says that if Jesus has not been raised from the dead, we are still in our sins.  When Jesus was raised from the dead, God was announcing that He had forgiven the sins that Jesus died for.  And if He has forgiven the sins that Jesus died for, it means He has forgiven the whole human race.  And if He has forgiven us, we too will rise from the dead like Jesus and live forever with Him.

 

But this is not the end of it.  The eternal life that will belong to us when Jesus returns also belongs to those who believe in Him in this life.  When Jesus went to visit his friends Mary and Martha, their brother Lazarus had been in the grave for four days.  You heard what He said to Martha: Your brother will rise again.  She said, “Yes, I believe He will rise again on the Last Day, when God will raise up all the dead and judge them, and give eternal life to the righteous and eternal damnation to the wicked.”

 

But Jesus doesn’t let it rest there.  He says, I am the resurrection and the life.  Whoever believes in Me will live, even though He dies, and whoever lives and believes in Me will never die.  He is saying, “Whoever believes in Me shares in the life I will have in My resurrection.  On the last day everyone will rise from the dead, but whoever believes in Me shares my resurrection and my life.”

 

That is how we receive a certain hope in this world of death—that one day we will have life and no more crying and no more death, but that even now that life is ours.  We have it through believing in Jesus—not merely believing the fact that He was crucified and rose from the dead.  But believing that His death and resurrection is, as He promises, for us.  He died and paid for our sins.  He rose again as the certification that God accepts the sacrifice of Jesus’ life for our guilt.  That He settled our account with God.

 

It is not possible to make yourself believe this so strongly that you are confident in the face of death.  It takes divine power for anyone to believe it.  But God works His divine power in the word that I am preaching today, in the words of the Scripture when they are read at home and proclaimed and taught in the Church.  Through the preaching and teaching of this Word He makes us recognize that death comes as a result of sin, and that none of us is free from it, no matter how well we live in our own eyes or in the eyes of others.

 

And through the preaching of His Word He also gives us eternal life.  He causes us to believe that through Jesus, and through Jesus alone, our sins are forgiven and we are reconciled to God and He to us.

 

JoAnn heard this word from God when she was young.  When she was six years old or so, she was also baptized, and God took His powerful word and joined it to the water of Baptism, so that she was joined to Jesus by faith.  She entered into His life.  When she was older, after being taught more of His Word, she professed her faith in Jesus and received the bread and wine that are joined with His Word, and she received the body and blood that He gave on the cross for the forgiveness of her sins.

 

A lot of time has gone by since then.  Those words of Jesus that sustain our faith in Him, that make us believe in Him and share in His life—it has been a long time since she received them last.  That is the favorite trick of the devil and our sinful nature—to separate us from the words of Jesus, because those words communicate to us His divine life as a free gift.  They tell us that heaven is ours when we die, and that God forgives us and gives us eternal life now in the midst of this life.

 

The devil has a long history of this, of deceiving us into setting our minds not on the things above, where Christ is seated, where He suffered to make a place for us, but on things below.  But Jesus overcame Him for us.  He took away our sins.  He gives us life as a free gift, now and forever, through His death on the cross.  He proclaims this free gift to you now in your grief, and encourages you to come with your grief to His house, where He will give you life and wipe away your tears through His Word, until He does so with His own hand when You see Him on the last day.

 

The peace of God, that passes understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.  Amen.

 

Soli Deo Gloria

 

Peace with God. In Memoriam Janice Uffelman. Romans 5. Feb. 23, 2018

February 26, 2018 Leave a comment

cranach crucifixion 1In Memoriam + Janice Uffelman

St. Peter Lutheran Church

Romans 5:1-6 (Job 19:21-28, Luke 2:25-32)

February 23, 2018

 

Iesu Iuva

 

In the Name of Jesus.

 

Keith, Brad and Mayme, Rachel and Aaron,

Jan’s friends and family,

Members of her church,

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

 

The word of God for our comfort comes from the fifth chapter of Romans: Therefore, being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ…and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God (Rom. 5:1-2).

 

Peace is rare in this world.  In the little world of people’s hearts, there is seldom peace.  In the little world of our homes peace is often missing, or the peace is a cold war where certain topics are just not discussed.

 

Even those unusual people like Job and Simeon in the readings, who are visibly godly and upright, do not escape this.  Their peace is disturbed by pain or by persecution.  For some reason, not explained in the book of Job, God allowed this righteous man to be tormented, and everything but his life to be taken from him.  Job’s friends said, “Surely you must have sinned.  God is just and would not punish you for no reason.”

 

And in a sense they were right.  Peace is missing in this world for us because peace with God has been lost.  That is the testimony of the Bible.  The reason why there is suffering and the reason why there is death is not simply because this is a necessary part of the grand plan.  It is because the peace between human beings and God has been destroyed by sin.  That’s why we suffer.  That’s why even the righteous die.

 

And yet in the midst of his turmoil Job confessed a bold hope: I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last He will stand upon the earth.  And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God.”  (Job 19:25-26)  After I die, says Job, my rescuer will come and bring me out of the prison of death.  He will raise me from the dead, and in my body I will see His face.

 

It is a brave thing to say, a bold thing to live your life by, especially when it seems as though God has abandoned you to suffer, when it appears to your eyes and everyone else’s that God is indifferent to you, or that He is against you.  Not just because it goes against what we see, but because it is a brave thing to claim about yourself.  Even if God will give eternal life to holy and righteous people, how do you know He will give it to you?

 

That’s not the way most people are accustomed to think anymore.  Only fundamentalists of one sort or another worry about how God will judge them.  The general idea is that God gives eternal life to everybody, as long as you do your best.  Yet we see all the time how the best we can do is not enough to bring about peace on earth, or peace in ourselves.  Our best doesn’t prevent us from disappointing or hurting the people closest to us.  Why would we think our best would be sufficient to stand the judgment of God, who is true and holy and pure?

 

Even the saints in the Bible recognized this clearly.  David, the man after God’s own heart, wrote, in the 130th Psalm: If you, O Lord, kept a record of sins, O Lord, who could stand?  And even Job didn’t say he would stand in his own righteousness when God judged the earth.  He said, I know that my Redeemer lives.  He was hoping for the day when the one God promised would come to redeem him not only from the world’s suffering and from death but from their cause—sin.

 

That day arrived.  Simeon saw it when He saw a little child brought into the temple courts.  Now, Lord, you let your servant depart in peace, for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared before the face of all people—a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel.  The glory of Israel is Israel’s God, the Lord.  The baby Simeon took up in his arms was not merely a human child, but the maker of heaven and earth.  He had come to make Himself known to the nations who were ignorant of God, and to redeem from death, as Job had hoped for thousands of years before.  His coming was what made Simeon able to die in peace, with confidence that God was pleased with him.

 

Jan might not have been Job or Simeon.  But she had the same hope, the same faith, and the same God.  She had a redeemer.  She still does.  He has taken her to Himself in peace.  And at the last He will stand upon the earth.  And then in this body she will see her God.

 

Jan experienced lots of things in life that disturbed her peace.  Yet she had peace with God that was not based on whether or not she felt it.  It was established by the person that Simeon held in his arms, the one who gave that saintly man peace, the one who upheld Job in his agony.

 

St. Paul explains: For at the right time, while we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.  Jesus, God incarnate, became a man not simply to teach what God wants us to do, but to die for us who are powerless to fulfill His will.  To die and pay the penalty for our guilt.  To die and settle the record of our debt to God.  To die and destroy death.  To take away its power so that it does not hold us after we die in eternal death.  Instead through Jesus it must let us go into the reward of the righteous.

 

By His death for our sins He justifies us; He makes us to be righteous before God, since by the sacrifice of His life He atoned for our sins.  And the way this justification becomes ours is without cost, without price.  It is a free gift.  Paul says, Being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.

 

This is the glory of God’s grace toward Jan and toward all who have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.  He does not keep a record of sins.  He has torn up that record, pierced it through when Jesus, His Son was pierced on the cross.

 

And now, believing in Him, we are righteous in God’s sight.  We stand in His favor.  We can boast and rejoice in confidence, like Job, that on the day when the Lord judges the earth, we will see His face in righteousness.

 

Jan had peace with God during her life.  She also took up the person that Simeon held in His arms, the Savior of the world, when she knelt at this altar.  But more importantly, He took her up.  He took her up and made her His own.  In great pity He died for her sins when she was powerless in them.  He drew over her whole life as a covering the sacrifice He made for her when she was baptized at a few months old.  Now her soul is sheltered with His presence, and her body rests awaiting the day when she, in her flesh, will see God.

 

Now the peace that was hers in Jesus she enjoys away from the suffering of this world.  This is not an uncertain hope, but the hope God Himself gives.  Jan’s righteousness was Jesus’ righteousness, her peace was established by His suffering for her.  May you also take hold of this peace in your grief that He offers you freely.

 

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

 

Soli Deo Gloria

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