Jesu Juva

“Promises Fulfilled”

Text: Ezekiel 37:1-14; Philippians 1:18b-23; Revelation 7:9-17; Luke 2:22-32

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

After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages . . .

And about ten days ago, that great multitude got one soul larger as Carris took his place with his Lord. It’s a day for which he’d been practicing a long time.

For that great multitude, as we heard, was clothed in white robes. And just as his casket is covered today in white, so was Carris when he was baptized into Christ and clothed with the righteousness of Christ.

That great multitude had palm branches in their hands. And Carris took a palm branch in his hand every year as we remembered Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.

And that great multitude was crying out with a loud voice. And Carris stood and praised God in a loud voice in church Sunday after Sunday, until he could no longer get into the church. But even then, from his couch, and then from his bed, he praised God with his life and faith.

But, of course, more important than all Carris did, is what his Lord did for him. Providing for him, protecting him, forgiving him, feeding and guiding him, being his Good Shepherd. His Good Shepherd who laid down His life for His sheep named Carris, that his sins be washed away by Jesus’ blood, and Carris be His and belong to Him.

That is the gift that enabled Carris to endure these last dozen years. He knew that Jesus was greater than any disease or sickness. He knew, as St. Paul knew and wrote to the Philippians, that through your prayers and the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ this will turn out for my deliverance. This awful disease that took Carris’ breath away and eventually ended his life, was going to turn out for good, for His deliverance. He knew not how. But he believed.

Because Carris didn’t just believe in a Saviour - he believed in a Saviour who died on a cross. A cross that looked anything but good; a cross that looked, in fact, like utter defeat and a humiliating defeat, but that in the end, worked the greatest good ever in the history of the world. A death that broke death and provided life for those who die. For people like Carris.

So Carris endured. It wasn’t easy or pleasant, but Carris committed himself into his Saviour’s hands. A Saviour he knew and knew he would see, for one day, just before he died, Carris asked me: What shall I say to Jesus when I see him? What a question! What faith that question showed! I’d never been asked that question before, so I really didn’t know what to say.

But I think maybe that day will be for Carris and for all of us who believe, like it was for Simeon, who we heard about in the Holy Gospel. Simeon had been promised that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. He didn’t know when that day would be, and I think that he also probably didn’t know what he would say when he saw Jesus! But when Jesus came into the Temple that day, and Simeon took him up in his arms, he was given the words to say. Words of joy and gladness. Words of confidence and hope. Words of a promise both made and kept.

For God, those two things always go together: promises made and kept. For us, not always. In this world, sometimes promises are made with no intention of keeping them. Sometimes they’re made but things come up and situations change. And sometimes, even when we try to keep a promise, we can’t. We fail. Our best effort isn’t good enough. I know that’s true for me. And I suspect it was for Carris, and is for you, too.

But with our Father in heaven it is wonderfully different. Each and every word, each and every promise is kept. Or will be kept. Maybe not as we expect. Maybe not as we hope. But kept. And faith clings to that, and to those promises. That though we die, yet shall we live (John 11:25). That just as Christ died and rose again, so He will take us with Him. That even though we are a heap of dry, dead bones, those dry, dead bones will come to life again.

Carris and you, Mickey, and we in the church, prayed for that. That as Carris was lying in his hospital bed at home, skin and bones, with his breath becoming more difficult, that he would come to life again. That the Lord would heal him, give him strength, help him eat, give him more years, not take this wonderful husband, father, grandfather, brother, and friend away from us. Not yet. And we prayed that, for we knew He could.

But that’s not how God chose to keep His promise. Our Father did give His son Carris life - just in a different way than we hoped. But one day it will be as we hoped, too. For one day, as God promised through the prophet Ezekiel, God will speak to these bones and breathe life back into these bones, and they will rise and live! For it is true what we sang: And take they our life, Goods, fame, child, and wife, Though these all be gone, Our vict’ry has been won; The Kingdom ours remaineth (LSB #656). Carris wanted us to sing those words today. He wanted to assure us of that truth, and that he knew it was true. That even though it looks like he lost everything, the truth was exactly the opposite. He didn’t lose life, he gained it. For Carris knew what St. Paul knew, that for to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. To live on would be a struggle. Far better to die and be with his Father and Saviour.

And so it is that we rejoice this day. Not for ourselves, for we are sad to lose Carris. Our joy is for him. He left an earthly home for a heavenly one.

But there is joy for us, too; not just sadness this day. For the promises true for Carris are true for us as well. Because the Son of God left His heavenly home for an earthly one. He came down to us, and for us, first as the baby Jesus in Simeon’s arms, and then as our Saviour with His own arms outstretched on the cross. That in His death and resurrection, we have hope. No matter what comes our way in this world and life. For surely there will be ups and downs, good days and bad days, successes and disappointments. But through it all - for Carris and for us - is our sure and steadfast Saviour. The one we can count on when there’s nothing else you can count on.

And He is not only the one we can count on, but the one we feast on when there’s nothing else you can feast on! The last few weeks, not even chocolate ice cream and chocolate covered Payday bars could satisfy or sustain Carris. But the feast of His Saviour’s Body and Blood did. That’s one thing Carris never tired of receiving, and with that Body and Blood the forgiveness of his sins and the life of his Saviour. So even as Carris’ body grew weaker, his faith grew stronger. His Saviour kept him in His care, and still is.

And so it is that Carris asked us to sing the hymn we will now sing. That the faith he had be the faith you have. That all of us, too, may depart in peace and joy, whenever that time comes for us. And as we sing, pay attention especially to verse two:

Christ Jesus brought this gift to me, My faithful Savior,

Whom You have made my eyes to see By Your favor.

Now I know He is my life, My friend when I am dying (LSB #938 v. 2).

My friend when I am dying. A faithful friend and Saviour born for us, who lived for us, who was crucified for us, who rose for us, ascended for us, and is coming again for us.

In life and in death, O Lord, abide with me (LSB #878).

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