“Who Are These People, and Where Did They Come From?”
Psalm 149; Revelation 7:9-17; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12
Divine Service III with Holy Communion
Hymns: #728 “How Firm a Foundation”; #677 “For All the Saints”; #752 “Be Still, My Soul”; #924 “Lord, Dismiss Us with Your Blessing”
Dear Friends in Christ,
Grace, mercy, and peace to you, from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
My wife Kim and I went to visit our youngest daughter Kayla down in northern Illinois this past summer, to celebrate her birthday and mine. She and her boyfriend Steve took us out to a very nice restaurant in Schaumberg, Illinois, just north of Chicago. The restaurant was located at the end of an enormous, three-story shopping mall. That place was shoulder to shoulder full of people, from one end to the other. Hundreds of people, all kinds of people. Every skin color, every race, every nationality, every manner of dress you could think of, with dozens of different languages being spoken all at once. I’ll have to admit I found the whole experience a little intimidating. I guess I’ve been up here in the woods too long! I found myself thinking, “Who are all those people? Where did all of them come from?”
In the Book of Revelation, St. John is shown a great crowd standing around the throne of God in heaven, wearing white robes and holding palm branches and shouting out praises to God. And one of heaven’s elders asks John, "These in white robes--who are they, and where did they come from?" That’s the question for us, too, on this All Saints Day: Who are all those people, and how did they come to be there? And how do you and I get to be a part of that joyful crowd? Who are all those people, standing around the throne of God? Demographically speaking, they look a lot like that crowd at the mall. They’re from every tribe, nation, people, and language; there are no favorites with God.
Jesus tells us today in our Gospel, in those blessed Beatitudes, who they are in that crowd in Heaven, where they’ve all come from, and how they’ve come to be there. They’re the poor in spirit, those who’ve humbly recognized the depth of their sin and their need for a Savior, those who’ve put down their pride, confessed their sin, and asked to be forgiven. They’re everyone who’s ever stood by a grave mourning for a loved one, yet trusting God for hope and for comfort and a resurrection to come, even through their tears. They’re those who are meek, those who were quiet servants of God in this world, without expecting any reward or recognition or even thanks for it from the people they served.
They’re the ones who were hungry and thirsty for God and to see His will done in the world, the ones who sought out His will in His Word and did their best to carry it out. They’re the ones whose hearts were full of mercy for all the pain and sorrow and suffering that goes on in this world, and whose hearts couldn’t help but try to do something about it. (Create in me a heart like that, O God!) They’re the ones whose hearts are pure before God, those who are God’s by faith and washed in the blood of Christ. They’re the ones who were persecuted on account of the faith they wouldn’t let go of, the ones who were insulted and lied about and laughed at for trying their best to be like Jesus, the ones who considered it an honor to suffer for the sake of Christ. “Theirs is the kingdom of heaven,” says Jesus.
And there they are in that glorious picture in Revelation, that great multitude that no one can count, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, wearing white robes and holding palm branches in their hands, and crying out together in voices that shake all creation, "Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb… Amen! Praise and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and strength be to our God for ever and ever. Amen!" I want to be in that number, too!
We’re still down here on earth, though; so how do we get there? That takes us back to the question the elder asked of John: "These in white robes--who are they, and where did they come from?" John, being afraid enough or humble enough not to try to answer the question himself, answers, “Sir, you know,” And the elder does know! He says, "These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.”
The great tribulation is the fight for faith. It’s living through everything this world can throw at you - every temptation, every sorrow, every grief, every disappointment, every loss we have to endure and put up with - and still clinging to Jesus and everything you believe about Him when you get to the end of it all. It’s believing you were made a child of God when you were washed in baptismal water. It’s trusting and believing that you’ll always be a child of God, today, tomorrow and forever, even when the circumstances you find yourself in are telling you it doesn’t seem to be so. It’s believing that your sins have been washed away by the precious blood of Jesus, shed on the cross, and that He was raised from the dead to give you the promise of living with Him in Heaven forever; and that nothing this world does can ever take that promise away from you.
So tribulation, hard as it can be, turns out in the end to be a blessing for us, because it only serves to strengthen our faith and help us to trust God more. The Lamb at the center of the throne is our Shepherd – our Good Shepherd - and He will lead us to springs of living water, those still and quiet waters the blessed 23rd Psalm talks about. And God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. (Imagine meeting Jesus, and Him reaching out to brush the tears off your cheek!)
So where are we today, on this day we remember our loved ones and dear ones who’ve gone on to Heaven before us? They’re all part of that great crowd in Heaven now, and thanks be to God for it; but all of us are still part of the crowd down here on earth, shoulder-to-shoulder at the mall. What are we? Who are we? Who do we Christian people claim to be? Who in the world do we think we are?
St. Peter tells us to be “always be ready to give a reason for the hope we have.” All of us should be able to articulate at least the basic things about our faith as we walk around in the world, going wherever we go and doing whatever we do. Luther said that every Christian ought to know the Ten Commandments and the Creeds and the Lord’s Prayer by heart, at the very least, and be able to explain what they mean; and I agree with him). When those opportunities come up to “say something” (and they will), we at least have to have some idea about what to say. I know there’s that Bible verse that says, “The Holy Spirit will give you the words to say; but those words will come from a heart full of faith and Scripture, not from an empty head.
St. John says, “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us” – poured out on us, generously ‘cup overflowed’ on us – “that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” That’s who Christians are, if anyone should ask. We’re God’s own children, children He loved so much that He gave us His one and only Son on a cross for the sake of our sin. It’s not that we deserve to call ourselves God’s children; we’re not so arrogant as to think that way. It’s not that we loved Him, but that He loved us, and that He loves us enough to claim us as His own, sinners though we may yet be. “A sinner saved by grace” is the best way we have to describe ourselves.
We live in a world that, to a large extent, does not know God or about the love of His Son. In that crowd at the mall, how many have any idea what our Christian faith is all about? Fifty percent? Thirty percent? Ten percent? And a world that doesn’t know the Father or the Son isn’t going to understand what it means to be God’s child, either. Not unless we take advantage of our blessed opportunities and our “holy moments” to tell them.
“Dear friends,” says John, “now we are children of God.” And it’s our faith that’s made it so. And that word “now” is an important one. We have a promise for our future, certainly; but we have a promise for today as well. We’re children God loves, and He’s promised to look after us and cares for us and protects us always, like any good Father would do for His child. He’ll be there for us for every trial and tribulation we have to go through, “with us always to the very end of the age,” and He’ll never, never leave us until at last He sees us home.
And “what we will be has not yet been made known,” John says. No one really knows what Heaven will be like. We can think and dream an speculate, but the reality is beyond our imagination. There are no words to begin to describe the joy those loved ones we’ll be ringing the bell for today are experiencing. All we know for sure is that where they are is where all of us one day want to be. The heavenly reunion is going to be amazing!
So we’re living in this world, such as it is, and doing the best we can to fill this place with light and hope and Gospel truth; but at the same time we’re praying, “Come, Lord Jesus! Come quickly, and come soon!” We’re living for the day when our hearts are at last as clean and pure as His, and when we get to see Him as He is. That’s the hope we have that keeps us fighting the good fight of faith, and keeps us holy and clean before God as we wait for our Savior to come.
We’re not in that awesome banquet hall in Heaven yet, enjoying the wedding celebration of Christ and His holy bride. That’s a “yes, but not yet.” But we are so blessed, children of God, to join with “angels and archangels and all the company of Heaven” – a company that includes our loved ones and dear ones - in singing His praises here on earth. And we’ve been given a taste of Heaven, a “foretaste of the feast to come,” as we come to the altar to receive the body and blood of our Savior.
How great is the love the Father has poured out on us, that we should be called the children of God. And that is what we are! In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.