1 Corinthians 15:51-52 “Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed—in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.”

Paul grabs our attention by telling us that he is going to tell us a “mystery.” This does not mean that we are about to hear a “whodunit.” Nor is his point particularly hard to understand (though there may be things about it we find hard to fathom). Paul is telling us that what follows has to do with the Gospel. This is information about God and his work which can’t be learned from our consciences or from looking at his creation. God must reveal his mysteries to us. This good news about the resurrection is “inside information,” so to speak. It’s not that God wants to keep it a secret from everyone. Rather, it is something people know only after they have heard the word. We are privileged to know something that not everyone is aware of!

This is that good news: we are all going to be changed on the last day when Jesus comes again, “in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.” We won’t suffer a long, drawn out process of purification, like the purgatory some believe in. The Lord doesn’t make you go through a miniature version of hell to make you ready for heaven.

Instead, he brings us instant relief from the waiting process we endure right now. Each day we are painfully aware of the fight with our own sin. Each new day the battle begins as soon as we roll out of bed. We face a new army of temptations, waiting to ambush us. Each day life in a sinful world makes our lives miserable. We go from heartache to heartache, illness to illness, anxiety to anxiety, fear to fear, disappointment to disappointment.

But because Jesus lives, God promises that we will all be changed in an instant. Whether we are dead or alive will make no difference. “For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.” If we are among those whose souls already resting in heaven, whose bodies long ago crumbled into plant food and potting soil, our bodies will change and live again quick as you can wink your eye. If we are still alive on that day, God will miraculously transform our bodies even while we are wearing them.

What will this mean for us? Paul says that we will be imperishable. Jesus death on the cross has purified us and made us free from sin. We aren’t subject to sin’s effects anymore. Even now, our bodies are decaying as we live. Sin is like the rot or decay that makes foods spoil. “One bad apple spoils the bunch.” The rot or decay spreads until none of them are any good. So our bodies also sag, our hair turns colors, our joints wear out, our vision dims, our memory fails—and not only because these things are natural. These are symptoms of sin. The rot, the decay, the spoiling spreads until finally it takes us in death. No amount of artificial preservative can stop it.

That is all going to change. God will remake us imperishable. He will change us so that we can’t spoil anymore. Imagine an existence in which you are always “fresh.” You’ll never wake up in the morning with bags under your eyes because the kids were up all night or the big presentation in the morning gave you fits. Your back won’t ache because you overdid it the day before. Your head won’t pound because you just can’t shake this cold or flu.

All these symptoms of the big decay will be gone. In the resurrection, we will be instantly fresh and new, because God will raise us imperishable.

1 Corinthians 15:23-26 “But each in his own turn: Christ, the firstfruits; then, when he comes, those who belong to him. Then the end will come, when he hands over the kingdom to God the Father after he has destroyed all dominion, authority and power. For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death.”

When Jesus rose from the dead, he did not retire to some tropical resort to sit under the palm trees and sip piña coladas. As we confess in the creed, he sits at the right hand of the Father. Paul indicates that Jesus is up and running God’s kingdom, gathering and defending his own, dealing with the remaining pockets of opposition, getting it ready to present to his Father perfect and peaceful, when both Father and Son can sit on their thrones and enjoy the fruits of their labors.

Sometimes it seems as though the clean-up operation isn’t going well. The spiritual enemies of the Church– the dominions, authorities, and powers Paul mentions– appear to be holding their own, even winning. False religions grow faster than Christianity. Christians are executed for their faith– tens of thousands per year. Basic Biblical teachings and morals are denied and contradicted inside some churches, endangering the faith of millions. Circumstances in our own lives– disease, financial strain, broken relationships, unrelenting temptations– can lead us to the edge of losing our faith. If Jesus is ruling, why doesn’t he just make it all stop? Why doesn’t he take control and end all the foolishness by force?

Then we remember that the operative word in Jesus’ rule has never been “force” or “power” but “love.” Jesus does not win followers at gun point. It is love, the love that carried our sins for us and died for them, that changes hearts and wins them to his side. In his love he has chosen to make dear souls in every generation his own. His love never fails to capture them. In order to build the kingdom he wants, then, love leads him to let this world go on until the full number of his people have been gathered.

Under his loving direction, even the dirty work of his enemies turns against them. When his people suffer, this becomes the opportunity for powerful testimonies of faith and intense expressions of Christian love. In this way he lovingly strengthens the faithful and draws them closer to himself. He even attracts defectors from the enemy side, like the man Paul who wrote these words in 1 Corinthians.

When Jesus’ love has snatched from Satan every soul he knows as his own, then his kingdom will be complete. Then the end will come. “The last enemy to be destroyed is death.” This promises more than the last body succumbing to death. What we know as death will no longer exist, and we will see what Jesus already promises us now: our victory is secure.

The world in which we live has been given a renewed awareness of the immanence and seriousness of death. An invisible virus has exposed how much we fear it. Jesus’ resurrection takes the sting out of that fear. Jesus reigns, and death itself will soon meet its end.

1 Corinthians 15:21-22 “For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead also comes through a man. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive.”

It’s amazing how much trouble one person can cause. I can’t help thinking of the character Kevin McCallister from the Home Alone movies, an eight-year-old who single-handedly ruins his family’s holiday vacations and foils the plans of a team of thieves.

His mischief is nothing compared to the mischief our ancestor Adam created when he fell into the first sin. The effects of that one misstep spread far beyond his immediate family to every member of every family ever since. He didn’t mess up a few days of happy diversion. He destroyed our lives–all of them. His one sin was far worse than any weapon of mass destruction the world has known. In Adam all of us became sinners. It’s our inheritance, our share of the family “fortune” we receive from him. In Adam, we all die.

But Christ undoes the damage. He restores our future all by himself. So often it takes one person to break something, but many to fix it. One might think that would be especially true with death, the greatest human catastrophe of all time. How many world religions don’t believe that every individual has to solve the problem of sin and death all on his own?

Not so with Christ. “The resurrection of the dead comes also through a man.” “In Christ all will be made alive.” All by himself, Jesus has restored our future. He has obliterated our sins. He makes us look as though we have never committed a single one.  He has reversed the effects of death. Instead of the end of life, it is the gateway to life the way it was originally supposed to be. He has created for us a new life, an existence on the other side of death, where there is no more sin, where perfect love permeates all our human relationships, where we walk with God by sight, not just by faith as we do now.

That new life is truly “to be made alive.” All problems, pain, and poverty will be gone. These bodies will function properly all the time. Everything will be back the way it was supposed to be. Our future has been restored, because Christ, and Christ alone, has cleaned up our past.

Luke 23:8-9 “When Herod saw Jesus, he was greatly pleased, because for a long time he had been wanting to see him. From what he had heard about him, he hoped to see him perform some miracle. He plied him with many questions, but Jesus gave him no answer.”

If our text ended after the first sentence, we might think, “How wonderful! Finally a leader who appreciated how important it is to get to know Jesus.” Herod had wanted to see him for a long time. In fact, “greatly pleased” is a rather mild way of translating his reaction. Herod was overjoyed. What a wonderful thing, it might seem, the lone bright spot in this darkest day in Jesus’ life.

Can we imagine that such a desire to see Jesus would ever be anything but good? If we were to run into someone who so desperately wanted us to introduce him to our Savior, could there possibly be a downside to this? Herod reveals that the human heart is so twisted that even the desire to see and know Jesus can be evidence of evil, not good.

What did Herod want from him? “From what he had heard about him, he hoped to see him perform some miracle.” Here is the Redeemer of the World standing in front of Herod, and what is he thinking? “I’ve got Harry Houdini here.” He wanted to see a miracle, not because he was in desperate need of mercy. He wanted nothing more than a magic trick to entertain him, a pleasant diversion from the pressures of palace life.

When Jesus refuses to perform, Herod doesn’t give up. “He plied him with many questions, but Jesus gave him no answer.” Think of the opportunity! What wouldn’t you give for an hour with Jesus, or just 10 minutes, to ask him your questions? But Herod’s questions were not theological or spiritual questions. “Come on Jesus, won’t you do just one? Just how did you make that bread feed so many? What’s your secret? Do it again.”

Herod’s reasons for seeking Jesus still appeal to some. God can and does work miracles in the lives of his people. That does not make them suitable as the center of attention in Christian worship. Where Christians conduct their worship with less spectacle, are they still tempted to value worship time because of its ability to entertain us for a little while? Do we have irreverent reasons for the time we seek with him?

Jesus answer to irreverence is powerful. “Jesus gave him no answer.” Jesus would not answer Herod or perform for him. How easy it would have been to do one quick trick and put an end to the humiliation. How easily he could have revealed his power, and put Herod and everyone else in his court in their place.

But for us, Jesus’ silence is golden. He displays his perfect love, even for Herod, by not giving in to his childish desires. He will not reinforce or confirm this kooky king in his sin. He treats him with silent respect, even when that respect is not returned.

Jesus silently bears this one more burden, this lack of respect, as part of carrying the guilt for our sins. He doesn’t do the trick and get himself freed. He endures the humiliation as another step toward the crucifixion and death that shows his true value and dignity—Deliverer from sin and death. He does so that we might be acknowledged as sons of God, and recognized in the only court and by the only King that really matters–his own Father in heaven.

Mark 14:50 “Then everyone deserted him and fled.”

Following Jesus doesn’t make life easier or safer, does it. That doesn’t deny God’s providence or blessings for those who believe in him. Every believer can be confident of God’s promises. He will answer our prayers for daily bread. His angel encamps around those who fear him. The Lord himself will rescue us from every evil attack and bring us safely to his heavenly kingdom.

At the same time, those promises don’t change the fact that he lets us feel his loving hand of discipline. Jesus’ disciples sometimes had the idea that following him was going to make them national heroes, or land them in the lap of luxury. Modern day disciples sometimes share similar dreams. They believe that following him will make all their family problems go away. They think it guarantees a steady income or removes any need for doctors.

Bible history makes it clear that the enemies of God in this world have always outnumbered his friends. We’re on the wrong side, as far as this sinful world is concerned. Satan and his allies have no intention of leaving us alone. As soldiers in God’s army, we get shot at, too.

Sometimes Christians in other parts of the world understand this better. In Pakistan, the highest career most Christians can attain is taxi-driver or a janitor. Telling your friend about Jesus could cost you your life. In places like Sudan or northern Nigeria, entire Christian villages are wiped out, or they sell the women and children into slavery.

If we let our Christianity shine at work, our neighborhood, or at school here at home, we face our own possible consequences. What are they trying to do when they call you a Neanderthal or a prude for your old-fashioned morality? Isn’t this an attempt to commit spiritual homicide?

Don’t let it surprise you that Jesus lets it be dangerous to follow him. If being a Christian required no commitment, if it presented no troubles, if it didn’t call us to give up anything, would Jesus be the one we are following? He committed himself to us without condition. His life in this world was constantly plagued with trouble. He gave up everything to make us his own. Let’s not be surprised when following him brings us similar experiences.

When his disciples came to grips with the danger involved in following Christ at his arrest, they had a solution. “Everyone deserted him and fled.” At the moment, this seemed like a good plan. The more distance they could put between Jesus and themselves, the safer they would be. The less connected to Jesus they appeared, the more they could feel. They would run away and escape the danger.

Did they find the safety they were looking for that weekend? Did they feel secure once they had distanced themselves from him? Didn’t they spend the whole weekend huddled together in fear, reduced to a pathetic group of whimpering cowards? They were paralyzed and crushed by the guilt they felt over leaving Jesus alone.

The application isn’t hard to see. When we are together, we may be some Jesus’ boldest defenders. It’s safe in isolation. The question is, “how are we doing out there?” Do we resemble those the Apostle John wrote about, “They loved praise from men more than praise from God” (John 12:43)? We don’t literally get up and run away when Jesus’ teachings come under attack. We just bite our tongues and don’t say a word.

Part of the reason Jesus needed to suffer for sin was our own unwillingness to stand by him and defend him to others. And how does he react to those who have bailed out on him? Remember his first words to these men when he met them Easter evening: “Peace be with you.” He holds no grudges. He demands no restitution. He simply promises them peace.

That is the peace only Jesus could give. He had to suffer and die all by himself to secure that peace. No one could help him do it. No one did help him do it. Our own sin has always been a far greater danger to us than our association with Jesus. It is so dangerous it killed him. But now, he has taken the danger away. No matter what happens to us here, our souls are safe and secure in him. He will never desert us.

Mark 14:48-49 “Am I leading a rebellion,” said Jesus, “that you have come out with swords and clubs to capture me? Every day I was with you, teaching in the temple courts, and you did not arrest me.”

When Jesus was arrested, his enemies didn’t send the local sheriff to serve him with an arrest warrant. The mob of people in front of Jesus was a more like the ancient equivalent of a S.W.A.T. team. They came prepared for more than an unwilling captive resisting arrest. They looked ready for a small-scale military strike.

Why did they treat him as though he were so dangerous? Both before and after Jesus the Holy Land had had its share of anti-Roman Zealots, patriotic Jews with dreams of being some sort of Messiah, winning their nation’s independence back from Rome. They lived a “Robin Hood” sort of life. Sometimes they even stole from fellow Jews to support their revolution.

The Romans disparagingly referred to them as “bandits,” petty highway robbers who were no genuine threat to the power of the mighty Roman empire. Yet, they feared them enough to punish those they caught with crucifixion–the style of execution reserved for the most dangerous enemies of the state. Perhaps Jesus’ enemies were already laying the grounds for the political charges against him they would present to Pilate in the morning.

Jesus points out that he was not a quasi-terrorist on a mission of political salvation. “Every day I was with you, teaching in the temple courts, and you did not arrest me.” They knew that Jesus’ was not campaigning to upset the political order. He preached no sermons about taking back the country. But they couldn’t believe that he was more sincere or selfless about his work than they were. They assumed that he was only interested in power over the people, because that is what they wanted themselves.

People still find Jesus dangerous because they fear losing power and control. Many Islamic countries ban all Christian witnessing. In some of them Christians must even worship in secret under the threat of death. Why? Jesus still wins the hearts of the people too easily.

Are we strangers to the attitude that lies behind all this? Isn’t it true that in our own country, at times in our own hearts, Jesus is resisted because we see him as a danger to personal freedom and control over our lives? People want to be captains of their own fate, and masters of their own souls. If we don’t understand the true and godly freedom Jesus brings us by faith, Christianity is seen as nothing but a set of new rules imposed on us from the outside. Jesus still meets resistance, like the people who once sent back an evangelism flyer I had mailed them. On the card they inscribed these words, “No thank-you. We prefer a self-defined religion.”

How sad for such people, and for the enemies of Jesus in our text, when we consider his words again, “Every day I was with you, teaching in the temple courts…” The main truth Jesus reveals is not about the people in front of him, but about Jesus himself. He preached the grace of a forgiving God. He lived that grace and forgiveness with both friends and foes. In a few hours, he was going to become the basis for that grace and forgiveness by laying down his life. If they had listened, they would know he did not come to take anything away except their sin and its consequences.

Every day he was with them. The Son of God cared enough about these souls, so lost in their search for self-fulfillment, so lost in their goals of earthly glory, so intent on building their own ladder to heaven (or dragging heaven down here to earth), that he didn’t stop at looking on them and try to help them from afar. He made his home with them. On days when it was too hot, he sweated along with the rest of them. He climbed the same hills to get where he was going. He paid the same taxes. He made his home with his own enemies to save as many as he could.

Can you imagine the high and holy privilege they had been given? What wouldn’t we give for a few hours, even a few minutes, with Jesus? They could have gone to him with their most disturbing questions, their deepest doubts about God. God himself was there in the flesh to answer them. Just when God was reaching out to them with his grace most powerfully, just when it was most clear that God desired them as his own, they despise Jesus as a danger to all that they hold dear. They arrest him to be rid of him.

Every day Jesus is still with us. He teaches us from his word. He lives among us in temple courts of flesh, the hearts and lives of those who know him by faith. Let’s watch and listen with hearts captured by his love.

Philippians 4:6 “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”

Anxiety and worry are sins we tend to minimize. They seem nothing more than natural reactions. Maybe we even regard them as appropriate in view of life’s realities. But does anything strike more closely at the heart of faith? If we trust God, if we believe his promises, then do we worry about the very things he has promised to take care of? That’s exactly what we do, and Paul tell us to stop.

In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus tells us not to worry about things like food or clothing. “Look at the birds of the air. They do not sow or reap or store away in barns, yet your Heavenly Father feeds them.” In this part of his letter to the Philippians, Paul is dealing with a strained relationship between two ladies. And anxiety has a way of poking its nose into those situations, too, doesn’t it? We worry about how to fix it. We worry about being treated unfairly. We worry what the other person is saying about me. We worry about who is taking sides with whom. Maybe we worry that others will discover my own shameful part in the whole affair.

Such worries certainly spoil our joy. They also stand in the way of reconciliation. But worst is their toxic effect on faith. God calls us to replace such anxiety with trust. Trust the one who has cancelled the anxiety of sin and death by the giving them to his Son to deal with on the cross. Trust the one who invites the weary and burdened to come to him and find rest for their souls. Trust the one who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all. How will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Trust the one who has given us every reason for faith and joy.

How does such trust express itself? God will hear it in our prayers, won’t he? “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” Instead of lugging our load of anxiety around and letting it destroy our joy, pass it off to God. Relieved of the burden, keep on living in joy.

Our Lord is happy to trade our worst for his best. With our fellow man he urges us to show our best. We let our gentleness be evident to all. But with our God we have an invitation to give him our worst. We unload our worry and anxiety on him with prayer. God will hear it, and he will do something about it. Then we are free to live our lives in joy.

Philippians 4:4-5 “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.”

A theme of joy pervades this entire letter to the Philippians. But immediately before Paul wrote this admonition to joy, gentleness, prayer, and peace, he addressed a problem between two women in the church at Philippi. Somehow these two ladies, Euodia and Syntyche, had gotten crossways with each other. He wants them to settle the issue and get along with each other. Then they can work together again. He asks the rest of the congregation to help them in this.

To this end Paul breaks in with this command: “Rejoice in the Lord always.” He expects that, with hostility giving way to joy, other changes will begin to appear as well.

The first fruit he expects joy to produce is “gentleness. There is more to this than meets the eye. “Gentleness” is about the best one-word translation for Paul’s Greek word in this sentence, if we are not going to use a whole paragraph. But since we have a moment to examine it here, I will give you the paragraph. People in positions of power (think of judges or kings) can often afford to show a measure of leniency and moderation. They can offer a controlled response to those below them. Just because those in high position enjoy personal security, and others can do little to hurt them, they are able to be gracious, calm, and generous. Neither fear nor force drives them to act. The sense of confidence their noble identity gives them, makes it possible. It is the way Christ our King has treated us.

We lose this sense of gentleness when we forget we are God’s children. We are royalty in his family. We possess utter safety and security under his protection. We have no reason to feel threatened and insecure. But if we do, protecting our now fragile self-image becomes more important than loving and serving others. We let them get to us and hurt us. We stop acting nobly in kindness and love. We behave more like the riffraff in the city jail—brawling, posturing, and competing.

No doubt Euodia and Syntyche slipped into this kind of behavior. They forgot who they were. Gentleness gave way to scratching and clawing. No doubt you and I have been involved the same kinds of clashes at church. Don’t overlook how spiritually dangerous this can be. In Galatians 5 Paul lists the kinds of sins that prevent people from inheriting the kingdom of God. We easily agree that sexual immorality, idolatry, drunkenness, orgies will do so. But he also includes discord, jealousy, envy, and fits of rage. They are the polar opposite of gentleness, and just as dangerous to our souls as the more “flagrant” sins he lists.

Paul’s solution? “Rejoice in the Lord always!” Joy will make a difference. This isn’t a manufactured peppiness. It isn’t the same as pasting an artificial smile on our faces. This positive and happy expression comes “in the Lord.” In the Lord all our sins are forgiven because Jesus paid for every one of them at the cross. The joy of relief replaces our guilt. In the Lord I already possess my own little piece of heaven. Jesus’ resurrection guarantees eternal life. The joy of that hope replaces our fear. It makes it possible to rejoice in the Lord all the time.

In the Lord I learn that I am not merely a spiritual survivor rescued from disaster. In the Lord we belong to the nobility of heaven. All things in heaven and on earth must serve us, even if they don’t seem to in the moment. We occupy a secure and privileged position. Our joy in who we are by grace, in whom God has made us, inspires our gentleness, even if others aren’t being so gentle with us.

“Let your gentleness be evident to all,” Paul concludes. By that he does not mean “put on a show for everyone to see.” He doesn’t want them to see it as though they were distant spectators watching through binoculars from the upper decks of the stadium. He wants all of them–all of them–to experience this gentleness from us. Let them see it making their own lives more pleasant. Let them feel it like a child getting to know Play-Doh by squeezing it through his own fingers.

How long could Euodia and Syntyche extend their grudge match while squeezing joy and gentleness through their fingers? How long can we maintain grievances when our joy and gentleness are evident to all? Nothing does a better job of burying the hatchet. When grace fills our hearts with godly joy, others will see it in our gentle lives.

Mark 7:34-5 “He looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to him, ‘Ephphatha!’ (which means, ‘Be opened!’). At this, the man’s tongue was loosened and he began to speak plainly.”

Several years ago we had a plumbing problem under our house. The washing machine kept backing up into the bathtub. We had a home warranty, so we called the home warranty service, and they sent out a plumber, but they weren’t able to get things flowing right. We tried various drain cleaners. We got another plumber. We had a friend try who had some experience with this sort of thing. Finally, my wife went to Home Depot, rented a snake, and got the job done right herself. No more messing around with an incomplete solution.

Jesus didn’t leave the man in our lesson half healed, in need of physical therapy or months of rehabilitation. He wasn’t going to have to visit doctors and speech therapists to finish the job. As soon as Jesus spoke the word, “Ephphatha!” the man’s ears were opened and he could hear. The miracle involved more than his ability to perceive sound. He knew how to process it as well. When we are infants, it takes years to understand what we are hearing. We have to listen for a long time to learn the language so that we know the meaning of the sounds that are entering our heads. Not this man. His ears were opened and he was able to speak plainly. It all made sense to him, and he could express himself as well as understand. Jesus’ solution for him was complete.

That’s nothing unusual in our Savior’s ministry. When Jesus healed the paralytic, he got more than strength restored to his legs. He immediately received the coordination and skill necessary to walk and run. I have read medical accounts of people who were never able to see receiving treatment that gave them their sight. It took them years to understand what they were seeing, to develop a sense of depth perception, to deal with peripheral vision. When Jesus heals blind men in the gospels, even the man born blind, they are immediately able to use the ability they have been given, even joining the crowds in following and praising Jesus.

In his saving work Jesus didn’t die for some sins or most sins. He sacrificed himself once for all. He didn’t do most of the work necessary to redeem us and give us eternal life. On the cross he declared “It is finished.” A member of my church was once talking to a friend about getting to heaven. The friend said, “I just want to make sure that I am going to heaven.” Our church member replied, “I’m a Lutheran, and I know that I am going to heaven.” That is not because he is a Lutheran of course, but because he knows the Bible’s promise. Jesus’ solution for us is complete.

Now you may be thinking, “But my life seems to be filled with a lot of half-complete and incomplete solutions.” Here is our problem: we forget that Jesus wants to do more than fix our immediate crisis and make us happy. More than that, he wants to grow us up in our faith. Paul reminds the Romans that we rejoice in our sufferings, “because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope” (Romans 5:3-4). James encourages us, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” (James 1:2-4). The author of Hebrews urges us to endure hardship as discipline. Why? “Later on…it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it” (Hebrews 12:11).

Any solution from our Savior that lacked these things would be less complete, not more, wouldn’t it? Jesus doesn’t let us down in this regard. He does everything better than we think, because his solution for our faith is complete.