Time Matthew 24:36-44

Time. What is it? We talk about time flying, trying to save time, getting a jump on time, that time is money, when we are behind time we try to make up time, we say time waits for no one, that we are in time, out of time, and that things are timeless. We sing about time. Jim Croce asks “If I could put time in a bottle”, the Stones say that “Time is on my side”, Pink Floyd, in its song on time, talks about time running out. From the Bookends album, Paul Simon and Art Garfunkle sing, “Time, time, time, / See what’s become of me.”

From Isaiah, we hear that it is time to “beat our swords into plow shares and our spears into pruning hooks”: a time for nations to find ways of making peace and to learn the arts of war no more. From Romans we hear that we should know what time it is. It is time to wake from our sleep and dress ourselves with the armor of Light, to put on Jesus Christ, to remember who and whose we are.

Time is one of those most talked about things in our lives. One of the most asked questions is, “What time is it?” We run our lives by it, and yet, we still don’t fully understand it. For instance, does time only go from here to there, or is it possible that time can go from there to here? Can we travel in time? Can we go back in time and then come back to what would be the future? Or can we go forward in time and then come back to what would be the past? Can we in some way un-ring the bell that has been rung? Is time circular or is it linear?

With all the questions that we have about time, should we be surprised that our Gospel reading tells us that we will not know the time when the Son of Man will come again? This Advent, as we begin our new liturgical year, we confess that all we do is about time, but the time that we proclaim is God’s time, not our own. And, God’s time often runs contrary to our own.

So, we begin our time together this year burning candles, adding the light of one more candle each week, measuring the time between Christ the King Sunday and Christmas. We print special calendars that remind us that, as the world is getting darker and darker, our spiritual worshipping world is getting brighter and brighter anticipating the Second Coming of Christ. And then, when the Son of Man does not come, we begin retelling the story of Jesus Christ who has come to live among us and to be proclaimed as the light of the world, the light that cannot be overcome.

This time of waiting is not some idle time. We always hope for Christ’s coming, yet we prepare ourselves for his postponed coming again. And so, entering into our Gospel text today, we encourage one another in God’s kingdom work for which we are called, remembering that, in the days of Noah, people became complacent in their faith and did not remember their relationship with God and one another. We remember that Noah and his family were saved from the flood while the others were swept away. We pray that we will not be those people who are complacent in their faith and be swept away to the outer darkness in Christ’s second coming, but that we are those who remain for the coming day of judgment.

Thinking about the time we have shared, let us say with Frank Sinatra, “It was a very good year.” Let us pray with Ray Price “for the good times.” As we look back to the past year, we acknowledge with Bob Dylan that “the times, they are a changin’,”and with Chicago, let us ask, “Does anybody really know what time it is?” And then say, “Yes, it is God’s time.”

Let us walk in God’s light and walk in God’s time.

Christ the King Election Luke 23:33-43

It has been a long time since we heard the words of Jesus’ baptism and his walk through the wilderness with the three great temptations—that of starvation, power, and safety. It has been six months since we heard the words of Pentecost and the birth of mission in the Church. We have walked the roads of Palestine to the north and to the south. We have crossed the sea of Galilee during times of storm only to encounter a demoniac raging in the tombs of the dead. In these last few weeks we have listened and watched as Jesus has returned to the seat of power of his day—the city of peace (Jerusalem). We do not hear the story now, but we remember Palm Sunday and the joyous entry into the city. Now on the last day of our liturgical year we hear part of the Good Friday story again.

While we have been making this journey with Jesus, we have also been struggling in our own wilderness temptation time. We too have been considering the issues of putting food on the table. We too have been considering who holds the power and whether our lives matter. We too have been wondering about our own safety. We have traveled the roads of our time, to the north and to the south, to the east and to the west. We have heard the stories of people across our nation—stories of pain and ridicule, stories of unjust treatment and loss of jobs, stories that claim that our once great nation needs to become great again, and stories of continued confidence in the American people and hope for the future.

In both of these times an election has taken place. The people of first century Palestine chose Jesus Barabbas over Jesus Bar Joseph. We have elected Donald Trump over Hillary Clinton. Do not misunderstand me. I am not trying to equate Hillary Clinton with Jesus, our Messiah, nor am I trying to say that Donald Trump is equal to Barabbas. I am only saying that an election has taken place.

In both of these times, people have stood around in shock. The people of Jerusalem those many years ago because of the brutality of the crucifixion. The people of our time because, Republican or Democrat, no one was really prepared for the outcome that we have.

Well, the bad news for the people of first century Palestine was sudden darkness, earthquakes, and the tearing open of the curtain that separated the Holy of Holies, the inner sanctum wherein it was thought that the true presence of God resided, from the outer world. The bad news for us today is, there are some who think that their world has been shaken, that there is a darkness that is covering their world, and that the constitution will be gutted.  There are a lot of people who are upset with the decision that was made, and there will be some civil unrest because of it. The good news is, the people of first century Palestine survived, and we will get through it too.

This is just to show that there are parallels between what we read in Scripture and what goes on in our lives. In the midst of these events, Christ was able to speak words of forgiveness and promise. In a world of unrest, these words gave people hope, direction and peace then, and we can find hope, direction, and peace in them today.

For in spite of the elections that took place then and now, there is another election to consider. It is the election that God chooses to engage in. This election is not for a particular person over another, but the election of choosing us to be God’s Good News Proclaimers to the world.

In spite of our sometimes misguided decisions, God chose and chooses to reveal Godself to us in the person of Jesus Christ. Through his life, death, and resurrection, God chose and chooses to forgive us, to lift us up daily when we fall into sinful death producing ways. God chose and chooses to lift us up from sin into transformative, life giving ways of interacting with our neighbors. In this time of the resurrection, Jesus chose and chooses to walk with us on the roads we travel as he walked with the two friends on the road to Emmaus, revealing himself in the breaking of the bread. Through the Holy Spirit, we continue to find Christ among us, in our midst, in the cries of help from our neighbors and in the words of prayers of supplication. We find Christ’s presence on crowded city streets and in the quiet peace of our fields.

On this day of days, this Christ the King day, we take time to remember and be reminded that life, not just the day to day life we share in God’s kingdom now, but LIFE, given to us in Baptism and nurtured and strengthened at the Lord’s table; that LIFE that can only be truly known in the fullness of God’s presence in the fullness of God’s kingdom is ours because Christ first elected, that is, chose us.

In the awesome spectacle of the cross, the pinnacle from which Jesus viewed the world, he did not succumb to the temptation again. He chose to forgive even then and even as we continue to not always know what we are doing. So we say with one of the criminals, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

To the surprise of the criminal then and to our surprise yet today, the promise is, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” With the word, “today,” we also are reminded of all of the todays in Luke. “Today, a savior is born to you who is Christ the Lord.” We hear Jesus quoting Isaiah and claiming his authority on earth, “The spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to bring release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.... TODAY this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” We hear Jesus’ words to Zacchaeus, “Today, salvation has come to this house.” With these words of, “Today,” let us join together, in the strength of that promise of a place of caring and peace, to work in Christ’s name for God’s kingdom to come, God’s will to be done on earth as it is in heaven, to make our place in God’s kingdom also a place of caring and peace; a place that claims and crowns God’s presence as Lord of all.

Thoughts that led me to this place.

As Christ is tempted in the wilderness three times by Satan, so now on the cross, Jesus is tempted three times to save himself. But Jesus does not need to be saved. We are the ones who need to be saved and for us, Jesus resists the temptation.

As Satan challenges Jesus to change the stone into bread, so now, the soldier tempts Jesus to partake of the sour wine. Yet it is only through Christ overcoming these temptations that we are able to come to know the true bread and wine; that we are able to know the body and blood of Christ.

In the wilderness temptations, Jesus is taken to a high place to see the wonders of the world and tempted by power. On the cross, Jesus is tempted by power in the soldiers, the symbol of Roman power in the world.

The third wilderness temptation involves the pinnacle of the temple. Here we witness Jesus on the pinnacle of the cross. Here too, Jesus does not throw himself down. In the dialog between the criminals we are reminded that we should not put the Lord our God to the test.

In the four Lucan statements of “today,” we are reminded of the angels words, “Do not be afraid, for today, a savior ….” In Jesus’ sermon we are reminded that God’s prophesies are fulfilled. We are told that salvation comes to the house of the innocent (Zacchaeus), and we hear the proclamation of the soldier at the cross, “Surely this man was innocent!”

Lastly, the words, “Today, you will be with me in paradise,” point to a world of “todays” in Christ’s presence and peace, to the new Jerusalem (city of peace).

Luke 23 tugs at all of the strings from previous passages—from the unjust judge, from the unrighteous stewards, from the lost sons and daughters who have gone on their own way. All of this is to prepare us for the Sunday morning event that will change the world. It is not the cross event that changes the world, but the cross leads to the event that changes the world.

And yes, Paul’s words echo to us this day. That Christ did this amazing thing once, for all; for Jew and Greek, male and female, slave and free, [Muslim and Christian, privileged and oppressed, Republican and Democrat, LGBTQ and straight, abled and disabled]. Now we only need to determine how restricted we want “all” to be.

Do Not Be Terrified Luke 21:5-19

I start preparing for worship on Sunday night. That means that I started reading this text last Sunday night. As I read the text, I was thinking about the world at that moment, as the elections were drawing near, of the high feelings, the polarized status, the inflammatory language that had become common place and somehow praise worthy. I wondered how Hilary Clinton was going to heal the rift that had grown between Democrat and Republican. Of course, those thoughts were all based on Sunday. They had nothing to do with Wednesday.

Among my friends, many were positive that Clinton was going to win. They too, were living in a Sunday/Monday world. How upset they were on Wednesday morning. Meeting with pastors on Wednesday morning I heard, “What are we going to preach on Sunday?” In the midst of their psychic pain and confusion, they had no idea. The stones of their sacred structures had tumbled. Their perspective of the world had shifted, and their sense of reality had been challenged.

So I asked if any of them had read the text for this week yet? Most of them had been so involved in the election that they had not taken time to do that. So I said something that I thought was a given. “I’m guessing that we are going to proclaim the Gospel.”

One of my friends said, “But it feels like the world has ended.”

I said, “Have you read the text?”

What an amazing thing that we have been given this text on this day in our lives. Here we are reminded that ends are not always ends. End does not mean that it is over. Ends are the places of new beginnings. There will be wars and insurrections. “Do not be terrified.” The temple will be destroyed. “Do not be terrified.” There will be famines and plagues in parts of the world. “Do not be terrified.” Our political system is changing. “Do not be terrified.”

When we are brought before kings and governors, or the judicial bodies of our world, when your life looks like it is in the dumpster, Luke, reporting Jesus’ words for us, says, “This will be an opportunity for bearing witness, giving testimony, proclaiming God’s justice for the world, of who it is that sustains and supports you in your life. Is it going to be Donald Trump and the American flag? Or, will it be God, revealed to us in the person of Jesus Christ and his promise of salvation? Is it going to be a political system that has always been broken? Or, is it going to be a life of striving for God’s justice in the world? This is the time for deciding.”

Yes, you may be betrayed by parents, brothers and sisters, relatives, and friends. You may be hated by the people around you. In extreme circumstances, you may die, but, in the midst of the turmoil of the day, we find that this is our time—our time as faithful people to stand up and declare who and whose we are.  This is our time to remember God’s commands and Jesus’ ministry of protecting and caring for the widow, the orphans, the strangers, and the poor.  This is our time as faithful people to go out into the world, as Jesus did, to lift up the social dead into new ways of living. This is our time to tell the world in which we live and the government that we have that this is where WE want to go.

So many people have said, “We want change. We don’t even care what kind of change it is. We just want change.” And we find that we are living in a world that is waiting and looking for direction. We, as a faithful, Christian, living community have been given the awesome opportunity to speak, to make our voices heard in the public square, to make our voices heard in all the places of governance that we have—in our municipalities, in our states, and in the halls of Congress with the mouth and wisdom of God that our opponents cannot withstand or contradict. We have been given the opportunity to point out the direction. What an amazing gift!

We know that the stones of the temple will be cast down. Even the people of Luke’s time knew that because, at the time Luke was written, the temple had already been destroyed. This amazing temple building was totally destroyed in 70 C.E., fifteen to twenty years before the time of Luke’s writing.

Yet, if you were into architecture, this was one of the most amazing buildings of its time. It was a major architectural accomplishment of its day. The courtyards were cantilevered over the marketplace below it, and it was raised up above the city walls. From a distance, it looked like the temple was floating in the air over the city. Ancient historians say that it was built of the finest white limestone and crowned with gold. Indeed, when the sun came out and shined on it, it was so brilliant that it hurt the eyes to look at it.

In other Gospel accounts we hear that it had taken forty-three years to build it, so the thought of destroying it is terrifying. Think about it, forty-three years. Yes, it was an architectural marvel, but what is man-made is susceptible to erosion, corrosion, rust and general deterioration. Eventually it falls apart. Even wonders like the Great China wall need continuous maintenance. Without that maintenance it will disappear, it will vanish into the earth. So it is with the other wonders of the ancient world. The colossus of Rhodes? The hanging gardens of Babylon? The library of Alexandria? They are all gone. Only the Great Pyramid continues to be present in our world. All of the other wonders of the world only exist in ruins—and the British museum.

It is time to remember that our salvation does not come in temple buildings, that Jesus is not our personal property redeemer. Jesus has come to save US. It is time to remember, in us, with us, and through us, Christ is made known to the world around us. It is time to remember, by our endurance we will gain our lives. We will gain, not just our own life, but we will gain the lives of those around us, for in remembering the widow, the orphan, the stranger, and the poor, in going out into the world to the social dead and in raising them up into our community of life, we do not only gain our lives, but we gain their relationship with us and their lives and support as well. Let us therefore walk together in the body of Christ, which we have entered through Baptism where we were first lifted up from sin and death in Christ’s living body for the world.

“What are we going to preach?” my colleagues asked, and I had nothing to say because I thought it was all too apparent. In the midst of great change, we preach what we have always preached—the one who comes to walk among us, the one who leads us and teaches us, the one who died to save us, continues to walk with us and among us. That one, the Christ, continues to be with us this day and every day as we endure the trials of this world, that Christ is active and vocal in our midst. Christ continues to give us a mouth with words of wisdom that do not come from the world, but for the world

My brothers and sisters in Christ, as we go out into our lives, into our places of work, may our voices be heard. May we find the ear of those who are in power, that they might listen to us and that they might hear, really hear, the cries of God’s people and do something about it.

Not long ago, we heard the story of the unjust judge and the widow, of our need to pray persistently. So, let us, with the persistently praying widow make, our voices known to those judges, until all those around us are embarrassed to the point of letting us have our way whether or not they respect us, and that our way might be the way of God’s justice for the world. Let our voices be heard by those who are in power and let them act in our favor simply because they will not have us continue to speak against them when it comes to God’s justice in the world.

Whether you voted for Mr. Trump or Mrs. Clinton, much work needs to be done. Let us roll up our sleeves and begin the work that God is giving us.

Do we proclaim a God that is dead?

Before I begin, I ask the forgiveness of all of you who are Johnsons, I have used the Johnson family name in this post simply as a convenience for, as far as I know, not a single person referenced has ever been named Johnson. Given names have also been changed. Any similarity to your own worshipping space should cause you and your worshipping community to ponder what our Christ centered, resurrection proclamation is and how those who do not know our story as well as you do may receive the message of good news we make.

It was probably arrogance that prompted me to take one of my calls. Of course I felt called to be there. Of course I thought that we would be able to get along with one another. Yes, I knew that the terms of the call were tenuous. Yes, I thought that the Holy Spirit was leading me to that place, and I thought that I could help these two congregations. They were both experiencing decline, and I thought that I could help them turn that around.

Of course, I was wrong. Whenever God’s work becomes an “I” thing, it is no longer God’s work. I knew that. I believed it, but somehow I didn’t listen to myself or the many mentors and professors and authors I had worked with and read.

Eventually I came to my senses, but by that time all of the great ideas I had had had mostly failed.  So, one afternoon when I sort of knew that my time was short, as my eye sight was going but before it was gone, I went into one of the churches to scream at God, lick my wounds, and seek direction for the future.

This is an old church building by Midwestern standards and it has that wonderful smell that many of these old churches have. Do you know the smell? It is of years of burning wax candles, scented hand lotion worked into the covers and pages of hymnals, of perfume and aftershave, of plaster and carpeting, of dust and mustiness, of wood and metal polish. For me, it is the holy scent of God.

After my initial rantings to God, I started to feel a little foolish. After all God already knew my problems and my shortcomings. I didn’t really need to be explicit, did I? After some time, I started pacing around this very familiar space to calm down, thinking about next steps in walking with God’s people in faith.

I moved from space to space within the sanctuary noticing cracks and chips. Next I stood in front of the stained glass windows surrounding the worship space. I noticed the large windows of the Holy Family on the one side and the Ascension on the other. I thought about how the worshipping community was held in the embrace of these two windows of Christ’s vulnerable coming and his glorious, ascending resurrection promise. I thought of how the baptismal font was centered between the two and how our lives were lived in the tension between those windows in Baptismal hope.

I walked up to the windows that surrounded the altar, and I noticed the themes of the windows that moved from baptism to the cross on the altar and then life in the resurrection. It was amazing and spiritually satisfying until I noticed the panels and plaques on everything. So, I started walking through the church again, paying attention to the memorial signage. As I walked, I thought about many of the churches I have worshipped in, worked in, and served as pastor. I thought about the “edifice complex” that we have and about our need for self-aggrandizement.

At one of the windows I started to laugh. And, whenever I think about it today, I have to laugh again.

I was looking at the window of Jesus being baptized by John. Under every window was a beautiful stained glass memorial panel. This one read “In memory of the Johnson brothers.” At Jesus knocking at the door, it read, “In memory of John Johnson.” I laughed even harder. Under the boat on the sea, with Peter armpit deep in the waters with his hand raised to Jesus and a boat of disciples in the background, “In memory of the Johnson family.” It all became absurd. I knew what the pictures were, and yet, I was being told that these were not the images of Jesus’ life, but rather they were the Johnson family pictures. All the plaques and memorials I had seen throughout my life came flooding in on me and I laughed and laughed and laughed.

I remembered a piano I had to tune that had the plaque “Donated to the glory of God by Johanna Johnson.” It was a good piano in its day, but it was always difficult to tune and no longer held its tune very well. Yet, when the musicians of the congregation wanted to get rid of it, they couldn’t because there were still members of Johanna’s family in the church, and they might be offended. How relieved everybody was when the church had a fire and the piano was damaged beyond repair.

I remembered the baptismal font at a church I served that had a large sterling silver basin. Amid some beautiful scroll work at the bottom of the basin was this message: “In memory of Johannes Johnson.” It was small print until water was put in. Then the water magnified the letters to almost an inch high. I, of course, didn’t realize this until I was in the middle of a baptismal service one day. As I bent forward to baptize the baby, I clearly read the inscription and almost baptized the child in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and you’ve got to be kidding! Johannes Johnson?” I was so shocked that I almost dropped the baby.

One church had a wall filled with the names of charter members and those who had made major contributions (money) to support the ministry of the church. A couple of names were missed. The addition of those names later was not able to keep them in proper alphabetical order. It took hours of pastoral visits and pleadings to get forgiveness from some, and others never did come to worship again.

In one of the churches I served, a water fountain (bubbler) was given in memory of those who had died in war. A U.S. flag neatly folded in a beautifully crafted case and a plaque with the names hung above the fountain. When one of the children in the congregation heard that all of the people had died, she refused to drink from it because she was not going to be poisoned.

We want to give of what we have to the glory of God as we sing God’s praises, but we really want that book plate saying in the memory of one of our faithfully departed. Okay, I’m not really opposed to the book plate thing. When my family came to worship, my mother would open the hymnal cover to see who she was worshipping with that week. Sometimes the hymnal was one dedicated in my father’s name (he had died when I was quite young) and she would smile. But when the new hymnals are purchased, do we really need to be concerned that the families who gave those worn out books will be offended if we get rid of them? Do we really need to build a memory hall to include these old relics?

Although we are coming up on 500 years of Luther’s great reformation movement (Lutheran laughter is allowed here), Luther’s protest against relic collections seems to continue in our midst. We even cling to our old reliquary altars with the many drawers and cupboards which were designed to store the relics of the saints and mementos of Christ’s life, maybe even a sliver from the cross.

We say that we are a place of resurrection proclamation and then put the United States flag next to the pulpit or the cross. We claim that our hope is in Christ, that as we have died in Christ so shall we be raised up with Christ, and then we cover our caskets with the United States flag. Really!? Has the flag gained some salvific character I am unaware of?

These are just some of the ways we build museums to ourselves instead of places to celebrate and worship God’s activity in our lives. We give money for the beautification of the worship space knowing that material things wear out. Yet when they need to be replaced, people are offended. In the midst of all of this clamor for recognition we gather in memorial halls, at memorial tables, on memorial chairs, to study God’s inspired word with memorial book plates. We find our way into baptismal living using memorial fonts, hear God’s word from memorial pulpits, celebrate Eucharist at memorial altars draped with memorial paraments using memorial chalices and patens, being fed at memorial altar rails, in spaces protected by the United States flag. It often seems a miracle to me that Christ’s resurrection good news makes it out into the world at all.

I understand and I spiritually depend on, and yet I need to be reminded of, the fact that we worship in a holy space that transcends the boundaries of our lives and cosmos. That we stand on the shoulders of the faithful who have gone before. That we stand with the great cloud of saints worshipping each and every day, Sunday in particular. That we are not alone as individuals or individual congregations. That Christ is not our personal-property redeemer; Christ redeems us. Yes, we need all these reminders, but are the reminders we use helping us to engage the world around us or to run from it?

As I walked around the space that day, I was determined to ask the people of my congregation to tell me the stories of the Johnson family and then to ask them to tell me how those stories helped them speak of their faith today. When I lost my sight, it was determined that I had to leave my call and so those conversations never really got started. I sometimes wonder what would have come of those conversations.

As the liturgical year comes to an end, on the last Sunday before Christ the King Sunday, we will hear Luke’s words recording Jesus’ statements about the temple. We know from other sources that the temple was an architectural marvel, and from a distance it looked like it was floating above the city. One source I read claims that it looked like a cloud crowned by gold with such brilliance that it hurt the eyes to look at it when the sun was shining. No wonder it drew comment.

Yet Jesus was unimpressed. When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, [Jesus] said, “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another. All will be thrown down.”

With the destruction of the temple, where God’s people thought that God’s presence could be contained, possibly imprisoned, Jesus points to God’s activity in the world, not in an EDIFICE or even a complex of edifices. God’s presence in Christ’s body continues to be among us. We are the parts of Christ’s body, raised up IN Christ to love God and to love our neighbors. We are, in the words of Ephesians, “knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped” for the benefit of our relationship with God and one another. We are called with Malachi to be the messengers of God’s word, and in the words of Second Thessalonians to “Stand firm and hold fast to the traditions [we are] taught.”

Oh yes, that stained glass window of John Johnson knocking at the door? I noticed that he was knocking to get out of the church, not in.

What does resurrection mean? Luke 20:27-38

Before I begin, how many of you have thought about the willingness of the seventh brother on the eve of his wedding? When I was in catechism and had to study this story as a means of getting us to talk about what the resurrection meant to us, I have to admit that the only thing I could think of was, “How dumb are these guys?” I was 14, and I knew that I would be heading for the hills if I were the seventh brother. Actually, I thought that I might be on the road if I were the fourth brother. I imagined that I didn’t really like my third brother, so I didn’t want to warn him, but I knew my place. I had no idea about the resurrection and what it meant, but I knew that I would have serious concerns about my future wife’s mental health.

Although this is the alternate text for All Saint’s Sunday, I feel that it is wonderfully appropriate that we read this parable today. How wonderfully rich to question life in the resurrection at this time in particular as we celebrate All Saints Sunday. So let us consider this brazen affront to Jesus and to our faith in this time of grateful remembrance.

Within the context of this day and the challenge of this text, we are confronted with “What does the resurrection mean?” We have to understand that life after death was not a new idea in Jesus’ time. But that there was a debate between some Jewish people about life after death. Those who only read the Books of Moses, thought that there was no after life. The Sadducees were part of this group, but they were already in the minority in Jesus’ time. Many of the cultures around the Mediterranean Sea and around the world already believed in an afterlife, but they would be vastly different from what our Christian understanding of heaven is.

The Greeks had hades, a place where warriors could fight and die day after day, only to awaken the next day to fight again. Okay, it wasn’t all that great for women and children, but none-the-less, they had a place of life after death.

The Egyptians had the great necropolis, the city of the righteous dead, who passed the judgment of Osiris, where they lived in comfort, served by those who were righteous enough but not the most righteous. They ate well and were able to take many of their earthly riches with them. Life in the necropolis was highly ordered and reflected the order of the society and culture they had lived in during this life time. It was a great place for the wealthy who had many possessions to bring with them, but not so hot for the poor.

The Norse had their own twist on life after death with Valhalla. It was a place of drinking and fighting, with valorous storytelling and songs, great feasts, and dancing. It was not a place where women faired very well either. They were expected to cook the meals, brew the beer and mead, serve at the tables, clean the victory halls and entertain the men throughout eternity. Women were sent to Valhalla with their men as sacrifices. Children need not apply.

These conceptions of the afterlife were highly restrictive. Only the best of the best were welcomed. At best it was a segregated space for the elite of the world. It reminds me of the story. When this man died, Saint Peter welcomed the person at the pearly gate and said, “Well, there are several places in heaven that you might want to live in throughout eternity. So, let me show you around. He and the person went from place to place. Saint Peter was excited to point out the high points of each place and why the person might choose that location. As they were walking along one of the golden paths, Saint Peter suddenly said, “Now you are going to have to be very quiet until we get to the other side of those trees.”

The person wanted to ask why, but Saint Peter put his finger over his lips. As they tip-toed by, the man saw all kinds of people singing and laughing, playing games and having a picnic. It really looked like a lot of fun.

So when they got beyond the trees, the person finally blurted out, “Why did I have to be quiet there. They were making more than enough noise by themselves. I doubt that they could have heard me if I shouted. What’s the deal?”

Saint Peter said, “We have to be quiet because they are the pious Lutherans and they think that they are the only ones up here.

These stories of heaven as a place of privilege depend on a significant part of the population not being allowed in. Those people are usually resigned to hell. I mean, what kind of fun is heaven if there isn’t a hell? How can the presence of God be open to just anyone?

When we say those words, “He descended into hell, and on the third day he rose again,” we aren’t really saying that Jesus might have taken those people with him into heaven are we? Seriously, when I get to heaven, am I going to have to live next door to that person who never mowed the yard and left trash all over the place am I? We have all kinds of ways of asking the Sadducees question about whose wife will this woman be? And when we do that, we miss the point that Jesus is trying to make.

Living in the eternal presence of God means that life will be different. We will be able to live in a place where God will be first in all that we do. The order of this world will no longer determine our behaviors. Jesus tells us that in a world that thinks of women as property to be sold, traded, or given away in marriage, that that will no longer happen. All people are going to be recognized as valuable and loved. We will no longer belong to one another, but we will belong to God, in relationship with one another in ways that lift up our value. Indeed, this is not a land of the dead that practices deadly games of war. Heaven is not a place that continues to grant privilege to the wealthy, at the expense of the poor. It is not a place where we celebrate our own actions on earth like recounting the tenth inning of the Cubs/Indians game. Heaven is that place where we are invited into Sabbath time to be guests in God’s presence with the angels and like them we will die no more but be called the children of God. As such, we will live in the fullness of our relationships with God and one another.  

In the meantime, in anticipation of that great banquet time with Christ, we continue to see the imago dei, that is, God’s image. reflected to us in the face of our neighbor. We mourn and celebrate the relationships we have with those who have gone before us and value those around us. And, with the promise and hope of the resurrection we continue to lift our neighbors up into the relationships we have with one another and Christ. Claiming, with confidence in the one who is risen from the dead, that God is God of the living, and, although some are dead to us, that they continue to be alive with Christ in the fullness of their relationship with God. In the midst of the craziness and chaos of this world, in the midst of the pain and the sorrow that we know, we can still say with Job, “I know that my redeemer lives and at the last he will stand upon the earth...Then…I shall see God.” With the writer of 2 Thessalonians we can say to one another, “Now may our Lord, Jesus Christ himself, and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word.”

What will heaven be like? I really can’t tell you, but I can say that the one who is risen from the dead, that is Jesus Christ, has gone before us and waits for us there with welcome and love.