Putting Names to the Gospel

Text: Revelation 7:13 “13 Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?””

This is really a special day on the church calendar. It’s special for several reasons. For example, it’s not cluttered with a lot of baggage and distractions from the real meaning of the day. The hymns speak in an amazing way to our Christian hope in the midst of a fallen, dying world in a way that no other day of the church year quite captures. For example, as we’ll soon sing:

4. O blest communion, fellowship divine! We feebly struggle, they in glory shine; Yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine. Alleluia! (“For All The Saints,” stanza 4, Lutheran Service Book)

Perhaps you look forward to this Sunday a little more and more each year— as I do— as the list of names of those we’ve lost that each of us carries in our hearts grows longer and longer. That’s especially been true over the last several weeks as the list of dear friends and loved ones we’ve lost over that time began to stack up.

There are a number of things that make this day special. But I‘m struck by one thing in particular this year: Today is the one Sunday of the Church year that we put names to the message. Let me start to explain that with an illustration.

Some of you know that a couple of years ago our oldest son, Michael, went off to Marine Corps boot camp. Like virtually every set of parents in the history of boot camps, we quickly started writing him letters every day. On Sundays, though, instead of writing a letter, I took a copy of my sermon for that day, wrote “Dear Michael” at the top of the first page, and at the end I signed it “Love, Dad.” I didn’t change anything. I didn’t rewrite anything. I addressed it to him and signed it. That was all I did before putting it in the envelope. But it’s hard to put into words what a powerful shift that brought about in the way I look at preaching. No longer addressed to a whole group who may or may not be paying attention. Now there was a particular name in front that it was addressed to. And not just any name, but my son whom I love. No offense to you whom I speak to directly on a weekly basis, but simply putting a name in front of the message made such an unexpected difference.

Today we put names to the message— both to our grief and to the promised comfort. Today we go from “For God so loved the world…” to “For God so loved Ray/Mel/Glen/Betty/Dorothy that He gave His only begotten Son so that they did not perish but have eternal life.” What a subtle but powerful difference that makes— to put a name to the message. “For Ray” is written upon the whip and the crown of thorns and the nails. “For Betty” is written upon the wooden cross and the blood that flowed from it. “For Mel” is written upon Christ’s empty tomb. The redemption that was bought at the price of those thorns now has “For Dorothy” written boldly in front of it. The promise of the resurrection to eternal life is now addressed “For Glen.” All that Christ has done, all that He has earned, all that He has promised is addressed personally to them.

The assembled saints that the Apostle John saw before the throne— the group that he said could not be counted— it may be too large to be counted, but they can all be named. In fact, their names are all written— even now— in the Lamb’s book of life. Better yet, He has engraved the names of each and every one in the palms of His hands! In that faith, in that hope, in that confidence, today we name a small part of that great multitude. Today is a special day.

And it’s more. It is a reminder that the same is true every single Sunday for you. Today is a good day to be reminded that that’s what God intended for the preaching of His Word, not just every Sunday but Every. Single. Day. For each and every one of you. No, we can’t go through each and every one of your names every week so, instead, we simply sum it up with: “for you.” But it is for you, personally.

Think about what that means. The message of God’s Word is staggering. Truly staggering. In order to redeem rebellious slaves, God gave His Son. What it promises is beyond what we could have asked for or imagined. But that message is not just shouted out into the vast emptiness of the universe in case someone might hear. It’s the message of a loving Heavenly Father. It is the message from a loving Heavenly Father to you. It is the message from your Heavenly Father written in the sweat, the tears, and the blood of His own Son.

He has written *your* name in front of His promises when He called you by name in baptism and made you His child.

He addresses them to you, personally, as often as you privately confess your sins and I have the privilege of addressing you by name and saying, “I forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.”

He gives you all of those unimaginable gifts through His Word— as you hear it read and proclaimed to you.

Today is not just about our grief, about those whom we have lost through the years. It’s about all the battles of this life in which we’re surrounded by change and decay; in which nothing is ever simple, nothing ever comes easily; this world in which mowing lawns is replaced by raking leaves which is replaced by shoveling snow, which is replaced by mowing lawns, which is replaced by raking leaves, which is replaced by shoveling snow…. It’s about the ravages of time upon our bodies. It’s about Satan’s attacks all around us, in our own homes, and even within our own hearts and minds. It’s about the many— deep— scars from painful battles long ago that will never be forgotten. The physical and emotional cuts from our enemies. The much deeper cuts from those who claimed to be friends. The deafening demands that those we care about place upon us. The screaming silence of lingering loneliness. It’s about the daily battle within you— knowing the good that you want to do, but finding that it’s the evil that you do not want is what you keep on doing. It’s not just about those whom we’ve lost over the years, it’s about all of the daily battles of this life. Because not only does it place their names in front of the promise of the resurrection, it places your name there, as well. It promises you—here; today; in the middle of all the battles that you’re still facing day after day after day after day after day— that Christ has won the victory.

5. And when the fight is fierce, the warfare long, Steals on the ear the distant triumph song, And hearts are brave again and arms are strong. Alleluia. (“For All The Saints,” stanza 5, Lutheran Service Book)

It is the assurance, addressed personally to you that:

6. The golden evening brightens in the west; Soon, soon to faithful warriors cometh rest; Sweet is the calm of paradise the blest. Alleluia! (“For All The Saints,” stanza 6, Lutheran Service Book)

Today is a special day. But it’s not a unique day. It’s a reminder of all the ways, day after day, that God has commanded that your name be put in front of the Gospel.

Signed,

Your loving Heavenly Father.

Amen.