All Saints Day
November 3, 2024
Text: Revelation 7:9-17
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What’s the story of your life?
Is it a happy story? Is it complicated? Is it sad? Has it been fought with trial and tribulation?
Is it a bit of all of this?
Or what if how you remember the story isn’t accurate? What if you’ve forgotten important details…
After all, you’re human.
I recently relived the story of my life as my family cleaned out my parent’s home: the stories, the memories, the photographic evidence.
You can’t outrun it!
The photos, though, tell a story, don’t they? It’s a sometimes happy, complicated, sad story fought with trial and tribulation.
But it’s a story.
It's a story about a first birthday cake with frosting smeared all over, the proud day of graduation, young love at a prom or wedding, the awkward family photo in front of the Christmas tree, or some silly moment captured in time.
However, in his book A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis notes that “A really good photograph might become in the end a snare, a horror, and an obstacle.”
Because when you look back on photographs, you see images of friends, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, husbands, and wives who no longer walk, speak, laugh, cry, or share the trials and tribulations of this life with you.
And this causes sadness, grief, and mourning.
The question arises: is this the end of the story?
Is the image of the grave your lasting memory of the dead?
On All Saint’s Day, the Church remembers the faithful children of God who now rest from their labors and reside in His eternal presence. For us, the living, it’s also a time for us to wrestle not only with the image of death but also the image of life eternal.
To do this, we must also wrestle with the story of life.
So, look at our reading from the Book of Revelation this morning.
When the words were read, what image formed within your mind?
What did you see as we heard the words of St. John?
He wrote,
After this, I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”
Here is an image of the heavenly throne room, the Lamb upon His throne.
It’s the image of what transcends the grave.
But how have your friends, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, husbands, and wives been brought into this eternal presence of the Lamb?
John writes, “These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.”
Those who stand before the throne of God entered His presence through the great tribulation.
So what is this “tribulation” that John records?
There are numerous instances throughout Scripture that depict this as the moment in which Jesus returns on the last day, just as we confessed in the Creed,
And He will come again with glory to judge both the living and the dead, whose kingdom will have no end.
However, the words of the Elder from the reading, “These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.” - Demonstrate a condition and ongoing reality.
This means that the saints who fill the heavenly throne room are those who have met trial and tribulation, those who experienced distress and oppression, and those of you who even remain troubled by grief and sadness still today.
And these are not only images of the cross but also the true crosses of life – your life.
So, where do you take these crosses of life? Where do you take what distresses and troubles you?
To the font.
In a way, I cannot think of a more traumatic and glorious experience of the Christian life than the font.
It’s there you die to this life and are raised again. (Romans 6:1-6)
And if you are to examine Scripture, water always has a purifying and traumatic effect.
Reflect on Noah and the flood and how God purified the world of sin.
Or as Pharoah and his army were drowned in the Red Sea.
Or even as the disciples were caught in a storm, fearful for their lives.
This water is not child’s play.
It’s where one takes the great tribulations to “have the robes of life washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb.”
And this washing is not your own doing but a result of the Lamb’s blood. It’s Christ’s death and resurrection that cleanses and washes away the sins of this world.
As the Psalmist writes,
“Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.” (Psalm 51:2)
For this reason, the key to understanding our reading from Revelation is the Lamb of God, your Good Shepherd.
So look at the last verse from Revelation,
For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd,
and he will guide them to springs of living water,
and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.
The Lamb and Shepherd are one; they are Jesus. And as the text says, He will guide you and all the faithful to “Springs of living water.”
I can’t help but to think of Psalm 23 here,
The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Psalm 23 is the story of your life, but it’s also the image of Revelation that comforts your conscience and brings peace to your heart.
All Saints Day observes and gives thanks for the many faithful Christians who have led and are now gathered around the throne of Christ. It’s also for us to follow their patterns of faith, follow and walk after them, and be led with them by the Good Shepherd until eternal life.
For this reason, we remember that this life's journey began in the waters of Holy Baptism. It’s there you were clothed with the multitudes of faithful saints in the blood of the Lamb, redeemed and forgiven.
But those purifying waters then flow and actively lead you to walk in the footsteps of the saints to this altar, and in this space and time, heaven now comes to earth.
Something that is often lost in the Church today is that historically, it was common for churches to have cemeteries, and these gardens of the dead in Christ would be placed right behind the wall of the altar. In this way, heaven and earth were united—that’s why the communion rail was often in the half-circle; it was only part of the story.
And here’s the thing: after we bury our loved ones, when we depart the grave, it’s only part of the story.
As we approach this altar with angels and archangels, we also join the whole company of heaven, those who rest from their labors.
Your mother or father, husband or wife, brother or sister, son or daughter.
Heaven and earth are united again.
How wonderful is this?
How comforting?
My friends, your journey to the grave is not over. Surely, you’ll make many more pilgrimages to bury your loved ones in the soil of this earth. But as you depart, through tears of sadness and grief, remember the picture and image St. John gives us today of all God’s saints gathered around His throne because that includes you.
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Rev. Noah J. Rogness
Good Shepherd Lutheran Church
Tomah, WI