Tuesday, December 29, 2020

Sermon: Funeral of Janet Duhon

29 December 2020

Text: Luke 2:25-32 (Job 19:23-27a, 1 Cor 15:51-57)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Dear Bobby, Marilyn, Michelle, Sean, family, friends, brothers and sisters in Christ, and honored guests: Peace be with you!  This greeting “Peace be with you” is used by Christians all over the world.  These are the first words that Jesus spoke to His disciples when He first appeared to them that first Easter as they were mourning His death.  You, dear friends, have been separated from a beloved wife, sister, mother, grandmother, aunt, colleague, and friend.  It is a terrible cross to bear at the end of such a difficult year.

Death has come to my household recently as well, dear brothers and sisters.  It is a pain that at times seems too much to bear.  Yes, indeed, we Christians mourn for our loved ones, but St. Paul teaches us that we don’t mourn in the same way as unbelievers, because we have hope – hope in our Lord Jesus Christ, who is risen!  And that makes all the difference.

For we are all condemned to death because we are all sinners – even the very best and most beloved among us, everybody: including you, me, and Janet.  But the Good News is that Christ died in our place, and gives us salvation by grace.  He rescues us because He loves us, not because any of us can save ourselves.  And it is precisely because we can’t that He died for us at the cross.

We heard St. Paul’s mockery of death: “O death, where is your victory?  O Death, where is your sting?”  For even though we suffer on account of death, it is Christ, the one who died on the cross to save us, the one who rose and defeated death, the one who appeared to the disciples after walking out of His own tomb, the one who destroyed death by His death, who said, “Peace be with you.”

It is for His sake alone that we too get to mock death.  For Jesus gets the last word.  And He gets the last word regarding His servant Janet, whom He called out of darkness into His marvelous light.  Jesus claimed her at her baptism, as St. Paul wrote to the Romans: “Do you not know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death?  We were buried therefore with Him by baptism into death….  For if we have been united with Him in a death like His, we shall certainly be united with Him in a resurrection like His.”

And so I will say it again, dear friends, the very words of our Lord: “Peace be with you!”

Our Gospel reading from Luke 2 just happens to be the traditional text that has been preached on the Sunday after Christmas for centuries.  And, within our Lutheran tradition, we sing this very passage of Scripture every Sunday after we receive Holy Communion.  And you will hear it again, dear friends, at the end of this service.

We treasure the account of St. Simeon because we are all just like him.  He is weary of life in this world, of waiting for the Messiah, for the “consolation of Israel.”  For God had told him that he “would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ.”  And so Simeon, whom Scripture suggests was an elderly temple priest, treasured this Word of God in his heart.  And then, after waiting and waiting, it happened.  He encountered Jesus.  And his joyful words are now our song: “Lord, now You are letting Your servant depart in peace, according to Your Word; for my eyes have seen Your salvation.”

Simeon could now depart “in peace.”  Death is not a terror for him, because He has encountered our Lord in the flesh.  For salvation is not some abstract idea or an intellectual concept.  Salvation is Jesus, dear friends: God in the flesh.  And now Simeon was at peace – the same peace our Lord refers to when He greets the disciples after His own death and resurrection: “Peace be with you!”

We are prepared for death, and we are at peace knowing that we have seen our salvation.  And for the Christian, death is just a temporary separation, for Jesus died for us, rose again for us, and saves us.

We also heard the words of Job, who said, “For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last He will stand upon the earth.  And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God.”  “I Know That My Redeemer Lives” is a popular hymn sung at Easter in our tradition.  And notice that Job doesn’t say that he is going to be some kind of spirit floating around, or a disembodied angel in the clouds.  He speaks of the Lord standing on earth, and He speaks of being “in the flesh.” 

And this is so important, dear friends.  We Christians have so much more to look forward to than “going to heaven.”  We have the promise of the “resurrection of the body, and he life everlasting,” as we confessed in the Creed.  We know that God will create a new heaven and a new earth.  What this means, dear friends, is that you will see Janet again, in the flesh.  You will look into her eyes.  You will hear her voice.  You will share hugs and laughter.  You will eat and drink together again.  For Jesus did not come to turn us into anything other than what He created us to be: flesh and blood human beings, created in His image, and raised from the dead in the body, even as He was.  This is His promise.

And this is all packed into that little word “Peace” that St. Simeon spoke of, that Jesus greeted His disciples with, and that which we Christians constantly encourage one another with when we greet each other with “Peace be with you.”

And even as Simeon was waiting for the coming of the Christ, so too we await His return.  From the looks of things, we may not be waiting much longer.  So look to our Lord Jesus Christ, dear friends.  Do it now.  Look to Jesus, to our Redeemer, to Janet’s Savior, to the only one who can comfort us even in our mourning, to the only one who gives us peace: the peace that the world cannot give, the peace that surpasses all understanding.   

Peace be with you, dear friends, peace be with you!

Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

1 comment:

Okiebud said...

May the Lord have mercy on all who mourn. My wife of 30 years died a year and a half ago and it still hurts. Everything reminds me of her.
You and your wife remain in my prayers, Pastor.