Monday, May 8, 2017

Who's next? [Easter 4; St. John 16:16-22]

LISTEN TOT HE AUDIO HERE.

Jesus speaks to you today, saying,

As you approach a red light in your automobile, you encounter another car in front of you, also turning right. Traffic from the left is preventing that car from making a safe turn. You get anxious waiting as he searches for an opening and when there’s an opening, that space begs the question, “Who’s next?”

You’re on a date at an amusement park. You’ve spent the day standing in line after line, waiting for “your turn”. As the ferris wheel slows to a stop, the operator reaches for the door of the next empty car and shouts, “Who’s next?”

Empty seats, empty spots in line, and the like all point to your chance. If you were waiting, now its your turn. Your turn to take a seat. Your turn to get a chance. Your turn to be your turn. This could be anything we are waiting for, really; job offers, school applications, or even medical treatments. There is nothing better a child loves to hear more during a game than, “Its your turn.”

However, not all empty seats are pleasant and eagerly anticipated. “It’s your turn to change the baby”, “It s your turn to take care of mom, this week”, or “It’s your turn to tell them he died.” We’d rather not have to pull duty for these types of situations, for obvious reasons: they’re unpleasant and downright depressing, but necessary no matter what we think of them.

Abraham was given an unpleasant “seat” to take. He had been called righteous. He followed his God to a far away land to begin making a great nation. He was promised a miraculous son, begotten in his old age. He was promised this son would make him the father of many nations.

Then he was told to kill this son. Having fulfilled and believed all these promises, Abraham is brought to a point in his obedience where he would rather not be. He is told to travel three days to a mountain. He is told to build an altar. He is told to prepare a fire. At this point, the wood is cold and the altar is ready for a sacrifice. “Who’s next?”, it calls.

Jacob also had a son named Joseph, whose brothers threw him in an empty cistern, faked his death, and sold him into slavery. Joseph was pulled out, but when it was empty it cried out to anyone else who would oppose the brothers, “Who’s next?”

When the Egyptian soldiers ransacked Hebrew houses in search of male children to kill, one soldier had no job to do, because Moses was hidden away. His clean sword asked, “Who’s next?” As Babylon rose to power and razed all of Israel to the ground, the smoldering ashes of the city rose to the sky signaling, “Next”.

As you walk into the casket room at the funeral home, you see many caskets. You only need one, but there are so many open and waiting. Who will be the next to need one of those? Then we secretly give a silent “thank you” that it wasn’t our turn, even though it will be someone we know and love in the casket we will buy, it won’t be our turn.

Empty caskets are not comforting, no matter the context. Everyone knows they are for people, not things and everyone knows what you do with them: bury them with a body in it.

In the same way, Jesus approached Golgotha and found an empty cross. It wasn’t a sign of rescue, it wasn’t a sign of comfort, and it sure wasn’t a sign of pleasantness. It was an empty spot and He was next. There were other crosses there, empty crosses, waiting for others to take their turns and the Romans always left them out, just in case anyone needed reminding of what it meant to disobey.

Empty crosses are joyless crosses for this reason. They stare you in the face and demand with deafening authority, “Who’s next?”

Just because we know the rest of the story, does not make an instrument of torture and capital punishment any less threatening to you.

The cross is full. Full of Jesus. There is no “Who’s next” from the cross if Jesus is on it. There is no threat from that full cross, because there is no room for anyone else on it, much less you.

Now, you say, what about the tomb? The tomb is lying empty now, so isn’t that asking the same question? The short answer is no. Because the cross is full and because this tomb was forced to produce life, even if another were to be placed in it, he would simply come out alive.

Because Jesus is on the cross and has been raised from the dead, the grave may stare at us and say we’re next, but because of the resurrection, there is another side to the grave. Now it is simply a way-station to eternal life, instead of a last stop.

Thus, when Jesus tells us that "a little while and you will see me no longer", He is not only speaking to His disciples about His death and resurrection. He is speaking to you and your flimsy flesh, where when you find emptiness in Church you fill it with worldly things, thinking you see one thing or another, with your mind wandering to laundry lists and scorecards.

But, again  little while and you will see Him. We do not fill this church, Jesus does. Jesus fills this church with all the fullness of the Godhead, bodily. Jesus fills this church to overflowing. No matter what we may do to it or think of it, the Gospel purely preached will fill any space to the brim.

Jesus does not leave our imaginations in charge. He gives us time, date, place, who, what, why and how. He specifies that forgiveness received from a pastor is forgiveness received from Him, which fills the space of where we find forgiveness from Jesus.

He details the Font with promises of salvation in the water and the Word, regardless of where or who. Jesus fills that space with His salvation, so there is no mistaking who is next. He specifically maps out that His Body and Blood are to be taken and eaten and drunk, leaving no room for doubt or speculation as to where life and light are to be found.

Jesus fills His Church with His Goodness in this way in order that His Name be great upon the earth, but also that we not mess it up in adding something in that’s not supposed to be there.

In unbelief, I am on the cross and I am in the grave and there is no comfort or salvation there for the entire world, there is only great pain for me and it has nothing to do with anyone else. We didn’t see Jesus in any place or maybe we saw Him everywhere, but either way it meant He was nowhere.

Faith sees Jesus, not everywhere, but here where His Word promises. It is easy to see Jesus in miracles and good feelings. Faith sees Jesus on the cross. Faith sees Jesus in baptism. Faith sees Jesus in His Word. Faith sees Jesus in bread and wine.

Now the question remains, “Who’s next?”, but it is no longer asked with blind eyes. For now, in Christ, we eagerly anticipate our turn as children once again, because we believe His promise of forgiveness and we know that the call is not to emptiness of death and grave, but fullness of life and light.

Though we still wait in the line that leads to the cemetery, we are not afraid, for Christ now fills the line with His salvation. The cry goes up: “Who’s next?” and it is a call to the throne of heaven. For where the King is, Body and Blood, there the kingdom is. There is no empty cross or empty casket in Church, only an empty spot at the rail, ready to be filled with the only thing missing here: you.

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