​A recent dispute among the churches of the Missouri Synod made me dive back into the wisdom of our Lutheran Fathers as articulated in the Formula of Concord, one of the confessional documents to which we have promised to adhere in this congregation and throughout the Synod. The dispute was over whether the Sacrament of the Altar can be administered virtually or remotely. You may have heard of churches that do “online communion.” The practice became popular during the heart of the COVID lockdowns when pastors were frustrated with not being able to commune their congregations.
 
Presumably, they were under tighter restrictions than what we had here in New Mexico. Here in Roswell we gathered as small groups to receive the Sacrament. Of course, this was not ideal since the whole congregation should weekly gather around Word and Sacrament as the Scriptures teach (Exodus 20:8; Acts 2:42; Heb. 10:25), but I don’t think anyone went without the Sacrament who desired it. Once the restrictions ended, we gladly resumed the practice of communing at the same time on Sunday. On the other hand, other pastors thought it best to try something different and new.

​From what I’ve been able to discover, the pastor, whose face and voice would come through a screen and speakers into his members’ homes, would tell the people to take some bread and wine and set it between themselves and the screen. Then the pastor would speak the words of institution and, ‘voila,’ the elements would be consecrated, and the members would eat and drink thinking they were having same communion they would have been having at church as distributed from the hand of the pastor. I had an opportunity to read a short piece by a pastor in Minnesota justifying the practice arguing that the ‘efficacy of the Word’ was sufficient to make the bread the body and the wine the blood of Christ. That the pastor was unable administer the Sacrament with any kind of discretion, excluding openly unrepentant sinners, etc., wasn’t mentioned. He said those who balked at the practice attacked the promise of the Sacrament and unnecessarily undermined the faith of his online communicants.
 
There’s more to the administration of the Sacrament than the mere vocables that effect a change in the elements. Yes, the Word of God is efficacious, but it’s not magic, nor should we treat it like magic. The confessors in Article VII of the Formula of Concord are careful to mention that the promise must be kept within the use and action of the Sacrament. What does this mean? They write,
 
“In order to preserve this Christian teaching on the Holy Supper and to avoid and eliminate many kinds of idolatrous abuses and perversions of this testament, this useful rule and guide is taken from the Words of Institution: nothing has the character of a sacrament apart from the use [usus] instituted by Christ or the divinely instituted action [actio]. (That is, when Christ’s institution is not observed as he established it, there is no sacrament” (SD, VII, 85).
 
Imagine that instead of using bread and wine, somebody thought it was a good idea to use Doritos and Dr. Pepper as the elements to be consecrated. What our Lutheran Fathers are saying is that because they had departed from the action of taking bread and wine to be consecrated, then whatever else the meal of chips and soda might be, it is not the Lord’s Supper. So also, imagine back to the heady days of medieval popery before the reformation. Often after the elements were consecrated, the host would be paraded through town in procession and then left in a shrine or tabernacle for folks to venerate. This is not the Lord’s Supper. Jesus instituted a meal to be eaten with faith in the promise, not to be worshiped idolatrously. The Confessors go on to explain…
 
“The usus or actio (that is, the practice or administration) does not refer primarily to faith or to the oral partaking, but to the entire external, visible administration of the Supper, as Christ established the administration of the Supper: the consecration, or Words of Institution, and the distribution and reception or oral partaking of the consecrated bread and wine, Christ’s body and blood. Apart from this practice it is not to be regarded as a sacrament…” (SD, VII, 86-87).
 
So let’s put the practice of online communion to the ‘use’ and ‘action’ test. We’re not denying that the pastor who is being recorded in his location is using the genuine Words of Institution. Nor are we denying the Word’s efficacy if and when it is used as Jesus intended. What exactly did Jesus intend? Here we must remember how the Lord’s Supper was first established and how Jesus distributed it.
 
The holy Evangelists Matthew, Mark, Luke, and St. Paul write: Our Lord Jesus Christ, on the night when He was betrayed, took bread, and when He had given thanks, He broke it and gave it to the disciples and said: “Take, eat; this is My body, which is given for you. This do in remembrance of Me.” In the same way also He took the cup after supper, and when He had given thanks, He gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you; this cup is the new testament in My blood, which is shed for you for the forgiveness of sins. This do, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of Me.”
 
It was on the night when he was betrayed. His little congregation was gathered in the upper room to hear their Lord’s last will and testament. Taking the bread he promised, “This is my body.” Then he personally and pastorally distributed his body to the disciples to eat. Then with the cup he said, “This is my blood.” Each of them took the one cup and drank the wine which the Lord promised was his blood “shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.”
 
When folks are sitting before their screens at home, are they gathered with the saints of their community around a table in one place? Is the pastor there to administer the bread and the cup? No. I know someone would say that they are gathered ‘virtually,’ but Jesus could also have projected a ‘virtual’ presence to other parts of Judea in the form of a letter or an emissary and given individuals or small groups the same promise on paper or through the voice of a spokesman. He did not. Rather he made the promise about the bread and cup to those who were about to receive the great gift from his hand. The communal gathering aspect of the Sacrament is so clear that we rightly call the Supper “Communion.” Imagine if we omitted one of the elements or changed them in some way. Would it still be the same meal Jesus instituted? Imagine if we only let the pastors eat and drink and withheld the sacrament from the baptized? Is this what Jesus intended? God be praised that we have more than the words but also the example of what happened in the upper room to guide and direct how we consecrate and administer the sacrament today.
 
Also, keep this in mind. If ‘virtual’ presence is all that’s necessary for a common meal, then we’d be gladly using ‘zoom’ instead of traveling long distances to celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas with one another. Zoom is painful to use. I know that I’ve come to abhor it as a poor imitation of sitting in the same room with family and friends. That eating and drinking in the solitary confines of your home is not the same as gathering with your family for a festive occasion is all the proof we need that a ‘virtual presence’ is not a ‘real presence.’
 
God be praised that though there are times when it is hard to receive the Sacrament, the Lord finds a way to provide. Despite the lockdowns, we didn’t resort to new and strange practices that were distinct from what had been handed down to us from our Lord and his Apostles. Let us also be bold and encourage our Lutheran brothers and sisters to also remain faithful by not treating the efficacious Word like magic, but in accord with Jesus’ action and use so that there would be no doubt that the Sacrament is being offered for the forgiveness of sins and the strengthening of faith.

Not all governments are the same. Some governments are better at preserving justice and rewarding virtue. Corrupt governments reward vice and punish those who do good. Some governments preserve a greater share of liberty and freedom for its citizens. Other governments are jealous of power and become repressive and restrictive. Governments sometimes come to power legitimately, using the laws and institutions that ensure fairness and oversight. But history is full of examples of governments coming to power by brute force or deceit.

​No matter the government, weather it be good or evil, St. Paul’s divinely inspired instructions are clear: 

The Apostle's language doesn’t discriminate between legitimate governments or illegitimate. He doesn’t make a difference between rulers who are friendly toward Christianity and those who are hostile. Petitions for the Lord’s help and blessing are to be extended toward “all who are in high positions.”

What kind of help and blessing do we pray from the Lord for these persons of high position? We pray that they fulfill their God given calling. In the case of government, it’s that they curb destructive wickedness that wrecks human society (Romans 13:4). We pray they promote the common good by recognizing and supporting the centrality of the family and our spiritual life in the church. If they won’t support the church because they don’t want to distinguish the true from false confessions, then at least we pray they grant us the freedom to live according to conscience that’s been molded and shaped by God’s Word. We pray for the freedom to worship as God has commanded. If they are doing so already, we pray they remain steadfast. If they are not, we pray for their repentance.

If a government is hostile toward the Gospel and the Christian life of love, the Scriptures give us examples of what our prayers should sound like. Christian prayer always springs from divinely revealed realities. Take the 82nd Psalm, for instance. The Holy Spirit through Asaph shows the reality of the Lord standing in judgment “in the midst of the gods.” They may not know it now, but the Lord sees their actions and holds them accountable. The Lord speaks to them, “How long will you judge unjustly and show partiality to the wicked? Give justice to the weak and fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked” (Ps 82:2–4). The psalmist notes, with sadness it seems, that the “gods” of this earth do not heed the Lord’s instruction. “They have neither knowledge nor understanding, they walk about in darkness; all the foundations of the earth are shaken.” The psalmist says they strut around like their power is their own instead of on loan from the Lord. Their corruption shakes the godly foundations of this life, and they’re pleased because it serves their selfish wants. The Lord speaks again, “I said, 'you are gods, sons of the Most High, all of you; nevertheless, like men you shall die, and fall like any prince'” (Ps 82:6-7). This is the comfort of the Holy Spirit’s revelation. Though these men or women assume godlike power to shape and bend creation to their whims, they and their plans will wither and die like all flesh under God’s judgment against this world’s sin. And now the psalmist leads the congregation in prayer, “Arise, O God, judge the earth; for you shall inherit all the nations” (Ps 82:8).

God help the government against whom the saints pray judgement!
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Instead of praying for absolute destruction, we leave the work of judgment to the Lord and petition him always for his mercy, especially for our enemies. This is what St. Paul means when he tells the saints to “bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them” (Romans 12:14). The old Lutherans, in this vein, used to pray the Lord would curb the attacks of those in power, defend the Christians faith and bodies from harm, and turn the hearts of their persecutors. A good example comes from Luther himself who prays the Fourth Commandment:

Remember when St. Peter instructed the saints to “honor the emperor,” he was speaking from the historical context of living under Nero (54–68 A.D.), one of the most brutal and corrupt Roman Tyrants in history. This means that no amount of persecution or hatred from the governmental powers changes one jot or tittle of the Law. We are still to love our neighbors as ourselves, including the neighbors who rule over us justly or unjustly. We are still to bless them with our prayers commending these men and women to God’s power to curb, defend, and convert because we lack the strength to do so ourselves. Most importantly, we remember that the many precious promises of the Gospel are not shaken or destroyed because of the malice and maligning wills of men. Christ has died. The atonement price for our sins and the sins of the whole world has been paid. Christ is risen and ascended, sitting even now at the Father’s right hand as he rules over all things in heaven and earth. Nothing happens apart from his will. If he sends good government to bless us with peace and justice, it is for our good. If he sends persecutors and tyrants, it is for our good since it will, without doubt, refine and strengthen our faith which grows lax, lazy, and indulgent in good times. It will teach us to set our eyes of hope on the heavenly city instead of on this earthly one. It will remind us of our true citizenship in heaven instead of thinking that our identities are bound to the titles, rights, and privileges of this earth.

These things are necessary to write now because a narrative is being weaved by the main stream media that draws a direct line of complicity between the rioters who stormed the capitol earlier this month and evangelical Christians who have said that God sent Trump to be our president. No doubt some “evangelical” teachers spoke untruths about God’s plan and purpose for Trump, but we shouldn’t deny the truth that the Lord gave us our leader for the past four years. Just as he gives us Joe Biden for the next four years.

No matter our political leanings and outside pressures to deny God’s hand at work in this world, we should confess boldly to the world that just as we refused to trust in Trump for salvation in this world or the world to come, so we will not trust in Biden to offer anything better. We do pray for them. We do pray that the Lord grants Biden a spirit of wisdom to fulfill his calling. We pray that instead of repressing the church and a biblical worldview, that he would protect and defend it. We pray that God’s will be done through him.​



​* Martin Luther, A Simple Way to Pray, translated by Matthew C. Harrison, (Saint Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2012), 21.

The language of “at the same time righteous and sinner” has become an often-repeated axiom in American Lutheran Theology, and for good reason. It answers the demand from many protestant churches that a Christian be able to prove his Christian status to himself and others by steadily increasing holiness and works. A person’s ‘back-sliding’ evidences the insincerity of his previous commitments to Christ. Perhaps his conversation wasn’t genuine. A grieved conscience could wonder if he didn’t possess the Holy Spirit as he previously assumed. So, according to the holiness protestants,* either a person has begun in righteousness and is ever improving and increasing in holiness or a person’s sins betray unescaped captivity to the devil.
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Recently I had the opportunity to attend the annual Rocky Mountain District Pastors Conference in Denver where Dr. Masaki of the Fort Wayne Seminary convincingly argued that the axiom “simul iustus et peccator” is a central element of Luther’s theological writings and how it continues to benefit the church today.
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Some of Luther’s clearest and most mature comments on the subject come from his 1535 Galatians Commentary. There he writes,

​These striking words introduce a theological theme at direct odds with the emphasis on one’s increasing perfection and holiness. Luther doesn’t speak about partial righteousness nor partial sinfulness. Both complete realities exist at the same time. How is this possible? Can this paradox be reconciled with reason or the Bible? There’s a clue in Luther’s next sentence.

It’s a paradox, Luther admits, but one that doesn’t confuse or confound when you understand that the axiom is a kind of description and illustration of Christian justification.
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What is justification? This word and its meaning must be at the front of every Lutheran’s mind and tongue. Justification is how we stand before God’s judgement throne. It’s not the familiar worldly justifications we make to gain standing, honor, and status in the eyes of men. That is always done on the basis of the law and works. The more a person acts in love toward God and his neighbor, the better his reputation. Though this works on this earth, God sees the heart. He sees our secret anger, greed, blasphemies, and lust. Our works might impress men, but they do nothing to justify us before God. Not only is this true on the basis of the things we do or fail to do. We’ve been conceived and born bearing the guilt of sin (Ps 51:5). That’s why St. Paul says that we were “by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind” (Eph 2:3). As far as inheritances go, nothing could be worse. From Adam we inherited a corrupted body and soul. We inherited God’s anger and death. But thanks be to God that our standing before God’s judgment throne doesn’t depend on the law, works, or our heritage according to the flesh.

In the preceding context of Luther’s “simul” remark he had been talking about justifying Christian righteousness that depends on faith and divine imputation. God’s Word works faith in our hearts to love and trust in him above all things. But this faith is always fledgling and no bigger than a mustard seed (Matt 17:20). That’s why God imputes his Son’s righteousness to us as a gift which this fledgling faith receives and is thereby credited to us as perfect righteousness (Gen 15:6; Gal 3:6). So, when a person considers how he stands before God’s judgment throne, he shouldn’t look at his sins or the weakness of his faith. He should look to Christ who both suffered the full wrath his sin deserved on the cross. He should remember his Baptism by which Christ imputed his perfect righteousness by grace, extended through the means of the Word and Sacraments, to be received by faith. What about sin? In exchange for righteousness, Jesus has borne and washed away the full guilt of a person’s sin and shame by his sufferings and death (2 Cor 5:21).

This great gift and mystery of heavenly redemption for Christ’s sake alone is kept distinct from sanctification in Lutheran theology. Once the two get confused, one’s renewed inward/outward life and the justification a person has before God, then inevitably a person will confuse his growth and progress in holiness with the status of God’s favor. Confusing the two leads to uncertainty and doubt when, in truth, Christ’s death and reconciling Word are completely sufficient for our eternal life and salvation.

When sanctification is confused with justification, nothing less than the saving power of the gospel is lost and replaced by men’s works and strivings which, inevitably, fall far short of the mark. To summarize, the term, “at the same time righteous and sinner,” refers to two distinct words from God. The Law accuses and damns men in this life. The standard of the law is always going to be higher than we can achieve. But the second and greater Word from God, the Gospel, proclaims you righteous for Christ’s sake by faith alone, apart from works. In this way the “simul” dichotomy is a corollary of the distinct verdicts of Law and Gospel which are totally true at the same time. Any mixture or confusion of the two robs the Gospel of its power and leaves men uncertain of salvation.
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But Luther doesn’t use the “simul” language for justification exclusively. He goes on in the same commentary to say this,

The context is from Chapter 5 verse 17 from St. Paul’s letter to the Galatians. “But I say, walk by the Spirit, and do not gratify the desires of the flesh.” The apostle treated justification by faith earlier in the letter (Gal 2:16; 3:11; 22; 26; 5:1). Now he returns with the admonishment, “For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another” (Gal 5:13). St. Paul transitions out of preaching justification by faith to the fruits that follow justification. The fruits of love don’t justify, but it’s undeniable that they follow a person’s conversion. If anything, since the law’s accusation has been removed by the Gospel’s promise, the law takes on a different and unique character in the Christian’s life. This is what is meant by “walk by the Spirit,” that is, live as one who has been set free from sin’s chains of guilt without submitting yourself willingly again to their power. Though this love may not be perfect, it is a real beginning, but not the perfection the holiness groups desire. Luther explains,

Instead of being an ever-steady upward progress from one work of love to another, Luther explains the Christian’s inner, sanctified life as a cage match between flesh and Spirit.

The Christian sees in himself a struggle between the old desires and impulses toward sin and the new desires to love that don’t come from the flesh, but from the Holy Spirit. The flesh dies hard. In fact, it is distracts the Christian from works of love till it is finally laid to rest in the grave. So in this place, Paul and Luther are speaking of “at the same time righteous and sinner” in the context of how a Christian experiences himself and his own desires, what we often refer to as “sanctification,” rather than in the context of the pure unconflicted words of justification from the Gospel. The Spirit through the Gospel gives new impulses and desires to love according to the commandments. This is the necessary result. Yes, the flesh rebels. As the Christian struggles against his former slavery from which he’s been freed, his singular comfort and continued strength comes from the Gospel. Christ, being our Savior, has defeated all sin and he can and will share that victory with us, which is not perfected in this life, but in the life to come.

In this life we have struggle between the flesh and Spirit. There’s no promise in Scripture of freedom from the battle on this side of the grave and eternity. Though the flesh seems powerful, the Spirit far surpasses. Christians can and should keep their flesh in subjection. It cannot rule us. Our new and merciful Lord rules us by his blood and righteousness. By faith we conquer.

It’s good to use the “at the same time” language but be sure to clearly distinguish if it is being used to describe either justification or sanctification. In justification the language is total. In sanctification, it is partial and incomplete. If we can do this, then the language is helpful and comforting. If not, then we confuse salvation, righteousness, and the place and purpose of good works in this life.
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“For I the Lord do not change; therefore you, O Children of Jacob, are not consumed.”
—Malachi 3:6
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Things change. Sometimes this is good. Wisdom is earned with age and experience. It can’t be downloaded straight into our brains. In the same way, we teach the young people to put off childish things to prepare for the responsibilities of adulthood. Anthony Esolen in his recent book, Nostalgia, calls this “organic change” or changes that unwrap and unveil the full potential of one of God’s creatures. It’s change that delights in a baby taking her first steps, for instance. But when change attacks God’s gifts of life, like the institutions of the family and church, it is evil. This is change that tears down creation, despises God’s work of redemption, and stains God’s work of sanctifying our souls.
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In the church, we call this corrupting evil ‘sin.’ St. Paul teaches that this corruption has been ripping creation apart at the seams ever since both Adam and Eve broke faith with God and trusted in Satan’s lie. “Sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned” (Romans 5:12).

This isn’t indifferent change. It’s hostile to God (Romans 8:7). It’s outright rebellion against the strictures of divine order. Satan fell first into this trap of spite. He wasted no time in convincing Adam to follow his example. Since that time, doubt, unbelief, anger, and mistrust have been etched onto our hearts. You might say that it defines the whole world’s attitude toward God who reveals himself in the Bible. ‘I can deal with any god but that one.’

Simply put, sin is destructive change, originating in rebellious unbelief, that leads to death.

On our own, we’re unable to cut through the noise of our own conflicted hearts to figure out the difference between God’s changeless gifts and the false gods of desire. That’s why God gave us the Ten Commandments. They teach us about the timeless and changeless gifts that uphold and bless life.
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We’re used to thinking about the Commandments in terms of “shall” and “shall not” statements. But take a moment to think about what the commands and prohibitions are protecting.
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My point is this: No matter how we might reimagine the church, unless we define it as the sheep gathered by Jesus’ voice, it will cease to be Jesus’ church (John 10:27). The Third Commandment which teaches us about true worship doesn’t change. Though we might say that it’s fine for a man and man to be joined in “marriage,” it is not what God calls marriage. It’s necessarily driven by idolatry of the self (Romans 1:25–27) and it’s fruitless. What the Sixth Commandment teaches about chastity and marriage doesn’t change. We might imagine that a society takes whatever shape its citizens desire. But if it denies the honor and respect due to parents and other authorities, then it’s not a godly society. Its imagined freedom from stricture, duty, and limit lead inevitably to the slavery to the passions and flesh. It denies the central truth of the Fourth Commandment.

When human action attacks the gifts of order and life, when our words and thoughts imagine a world without government, family, and the church, we shouldn’t balk at calling it sin. It’s time for us to reclaim this word in our vocabulary. If a man attacks the true God through rejection of his Word, then the rest of God’s gifts are attacked as well. Unbelief results in both spiritual and bodily death.

From watching the news and participating in our society, you know that the world’s tastes and fashions are as fickle as the wind. Some of this change is inconsequential. With a mind and heart trained in the commandments, you’ll quickly see that other changes erode the foundations of the church, family, and society. You’ll begin to see the moral drift that’s taken hold of the public imagination. You’ll see the deadly results. Murder and violence are rampant in the headlines. Drugs, whose sole purpose is to intoxicate and addict, are wrecking families and communities. Men and women try to escape the facts of their bodies in search of their identities.

As the world falls deeper into its collective amnesia of the Ten Commandments and natural law, we shouldn’t be surprised that it struggles to find value in either the Christian’s message or why churches deserve tax breaks. They can’t see what the church adds to progressive direction of their imagined, ideal society. If the church preaches a morality that lasts, that resembles more a foundation to a house than a tattered sail on a directionless ship, then we shouldn’t be surprised by a changing world’s scorn.

If our desire as Christians is to remain relevant to the culture, to match their tastes and fashions in our preaching and worship, we wouldn’t find it too difficult. The resources exist to ease the fear of ‘change or die’ that grips many a timid heart. But trying to keep up with those changes is a never ending race. In the attempt, I think we would confuse appearances for what matters. We would forget that what the church sings, confesses, and looks like reflects the timeless and changeless character of Christ.

The church is founded on the Man who never changes. Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). Though the world changes and continues its long decline towards death, our Lord’s love continues to lift sinners to life through his unchanging Word. And for that reason we have hope. Our hearts are fickle and given to vice. We forget and ignore our old confirmation promises, wedding vows, and solemn oaths. We forget and ignore in service to the insatiable god of our bellies, and to placate our self-serving fears. Though we are faithless, God is faithful (2 Timothy 2:13). He never forgets his promise to redeem sinners whom the devil considers his prize. Generation after generation, the Stronger Man comes to rob this world’s strong man of his goods (Luke 11:22). He does it by exposing the devil’s chains for what they are under the unchanging light of the Ten Commandments. He does it by unlocking the prisoners from the chains of guilt by grace, for the sake of Christ’s sacrificed blood which is enough to satisfy God’s anger against the sin of the whole world.

Our sins will not destroy us. Death will not defeat us. The world may either hate or love the Christian church, but they cannot change who we are. The church is Jesus creation. He has instituted it with his forgiving Word. He has washed her and made her pure through his baptism. His body and blood nourish and strengthen her saving faith. If we remain in these unshakable foundations of spiritual and resurrected life, neither the world’s madness nor God’s wrath will consume us.
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Both our Lutheran churches and schools are bastions of stability in a world gone mad. Jesus’ Word gives both meaning and purpose to our members, to the families that belong to our school, and to our neighborhoods. Remember the changeless things. Fight to keep them from getting mixed together with the garbage that’s here today and gone tomorrow.

St. Paul says that we do not grieve “as others do who have no hope” (1 Thess. 4:13). Our Lord lives. Death and grave, our old enemies that used to devour everything, have been put under his feet (1 Cor. 15:25). The nature of our hope and what we can say about our Christian friends and family who have died in the faith is the subject of this brief article. There are three passages that I want you to know and with which I want you to become familiar. Knowing them will help you think and speak about death as a Christian. You won’t have to utter the same empty platitudes about “going to a better place.” You’ll be able to speak an articulate hope founded on the Scriptures and made real by Jesus’ victory over the grave.
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Jesus tells this parable to teach that at the moment of death, your soul lives on. You have been created to have a human body and soul. You’re more than just your immaterial soul and you’re more than just an animated hunk of flesh like one of the beasts. The Scriptures teach both the body/soul distinction and that they’re integrated in a living human being (Matt. 10:28; 1 Thess. 5:23). As such, an idiom for death is giving up one’s soul or spirit (Acts 7:59; John 19:30).[1] At death, the soul is separated from the body. As Christians we recognize that this isn’t normal. It’s not good for that which God joined together for human life to be torn apart. This is why we believe and confess a bodily resurrection. Without it, we would be less than what God created us to be; living, breathing, feeling, creatures who are at the same time rational and spiritual. Without this reuniting of soul and body, we would still be dead and unable to taste the fruits of Christ’s redemption of creation. Nevertheless, we don’t have to be scared about the conditions of our souls when we die. Having finally been set free from the weakness and corruption that infects our bodies through death (Rom. 6:7), our souls are comforted with Jesus (Luke 23:43) and the rest of the saints.
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See what happens to Lazarus. Though he suffered terrible bodily afflictions and the hatred of others in this life, in death his soul is “carried by the angels to Abraham’s side.” Since we share in Lazarus’ faith, since we also hear and believe Moses, the prophets, and Jesus’ apostles, then we take comfort from the fact that our souls will not be in anguish, nor will they wink out into inexistence, as they wait to be reunited with our bodies. So, as a summary, at the time of death, our souls are separated from our bodies, attended by the angels into heaven, comforted, and wait for the resurrection. Your soul can’t get lost and end up in hell. Neither will the souls who are not forgiven and justified by faith find their way into heaven. While there’s still time in this life, let’s listen to Moses and the prophets as they warn us against sin. Let’s listen to Jesus’ voice of mercy and forgiveness because this is our spiritual life and comfort after death.
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Death isn’t the oblivion of destruction and decay that it is to the world. For the Christian, it is like sleep. In the same way as you go to bed at night and anticipate waking up in the morning, so also do you lay yourself down in death. You confess to the world that you will open your eyes again. Just like Jairus’ young daughter, Jesus voice will wake you up from death. You’ll get up and walk. This resurrection hope was confessed by Job when he says that he’ll behold his Redeemer’s face, “whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another. My heart faints within me” (Job 19:27). And for this reason, St. Paul repeats Jesus and says that the saints who have died have “fallen asleep” (1 Cor. 15:6, 18, 20; 1 Thess. 4:14, 15).
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The next time you’re at a Christian funeral, don’t be modest or shy about our resurrection hope. Say it as Jesus and St. Paul said it. “You’re loved one is sleeping. She’ll open her eyes and see her Redeemer’s face. Just like with Lazarus and Jairus’ daughter, she’ll get up and walk.” Memorize this verse and speak it. “For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep” (1 Thess. 4:14).
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The book of Revelation isn’t as scary or cryptic as the millenialists have led many to believe. It’s not about secret messages and codes to decipher that will tell us when the end will come. Jesus said that only the Father knows the day and hour (Matt. 24:36). The book tells us about the spiritual struggles and victory of the church in this time as we wait for Jesus to return in glory.

“Those who had been slain for the word” are the martyrs. They died because of their Christian confession. Though they, like Lazarus in Jesus’ above parable, are not in torment, they are eager for Jesus to bring to completion the work he began and secured on the cross and through his own resurrection. They cry out with a loud voice imploring him to put his enemies under his feet and avenge their good deaths. Their cries are answered. The Lord gives them white robes symbolizing their purity which came from faith and tells them to rest in peace. They must wait “until the number of their fellow servants and their brothers should be complete.” They’re waiting for the gospel to run its full course. Their waiting for your baptism. Their waiting for the forgiveness of sins to reach across the continents and centuries until that moment when Jesus’ brings this era of mercy to an end.

Notice that the holy martyrs aren’t depicted as hearing our prayers or being able to see our struggles. Instead, what’s shown is that they know that their blood has yet to be avenged. Jesus has yet to return in glory. Until that time, Jesus comforts them and assures them that everything will happen in its appointed time. This is the worship and state of souls before the resurrection. They desire to be reunited with their bodies. They desire Jesus’ to reveal his glory to everyone’s eyes, just as we’ve perceived his glory now by faith in the Word. They pray for the fulfillment of hope. Jesus comforts them. The text, ending as it does on a note of reassurance, gives us the joy of knowing that their hope and comfort will not abandon the martyr’s souls until the Last Day.

The next time you’re at graveside. Don’t be tempted to say things like, ‘I’m sure that she sees us.’ Say instead, ‘I’m sure that she sees Jesus and is at peace. I’m sure that she’s eager for the resurrection to come quickly.’ Dear saints, let’s join our voices and prayers to the dearly departed who have preceded us in death.

Jesus says, “Behold, I am coming soon, bringing my recompence with me, to repay everyone for what has done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end. Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they may have the right to the tree of life and may enter the city by the gates” (Rev. 22:12–14).

Your robes are washed and made white in Baptism. The gates are Jesus’ Word and Sacrament. The tree of life is his cross from which he gives forgiveness, righteousness, and peace. Dying in this justifying faith, you are saved. Death is but sleep that gives way to resurrection.

Let’s learn to pray with all the saints in heaven and on earth, “Come, Lord Jesus” (Rev. 22:20)

Jesus says, “Surely I am coming soon.”
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—Pr. A. Brian Flamme

[1] Though there is some debate as to whether biblical anthropology teaches a tripartite distinction between soul, spirit, and body verses a soul, body distinction, we’ll leave that out of this discussion and acknowledge the soul or spirit as that immaterial part of ourselves that survives death and is reunited with out bodies on the day of resurrection.