For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
.jpeg)
Sermon for the Last Sunday of the Church Year
Proper 29
| Text: Colossians
1:13 For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. |
|
Our compassionate King
The day that “Hot Dog” our much
loved and mischievous sausage dog died is one that won’t be forgotten.
“Hot Dog” had been a part of our children’s lives for as long as they
could remember and now it was time to say farewell.
The vet had said, “Take him home so everyone can say farewell.”
To see four young children so overwhelmed with sadness, each going to
their own room to deal with their tears, was heart-breaking to the point we
decided not to have any more dogs the kids can get so attached to.
(A decision that was short-lived because our kids are such animal
lovers). For our children this was
their first experience of death that touched them personally.
Death is so final.
It separates. It hurts.
It’s painful. It leaves a
gap in our lives once filled by the person (or pet) who has left us – a gap that
can’t be filled by anyone else.
When I think back over this past
year, I realise that some very special people in my life and my wife's have left
us. In most cases their passing
from this life was preceded by a lengthy period of suffering.
Some of these people were members of this congregation, some were people
we have known from former congregations, and some were dear friends we have
known over many decades. As we
think of those who have died, we reflect on how we once called on them, chatted
with them over coffee, laughed with them, watched our children play together and
grow up, and still expect to see them sitting in their favourite chair.
Maybe this has been your
experience as well. As we get
older, we find ourselves grieving the passing of our friends and family members
who are our age. My mum who is 95
often says all her old friends in the church where she has worshipped for the
past 70 plus years, the women’s fellowship or the gardening club have all gone.
As we gather at a funeral service, we get a reality check that we will
not be on this earth forever. We
don’t like to think about it, but we are mortal and one day our bodies will give
in to death.
And as we know, you don’t have
to be old to die. I recall in one
parish, I conducted the funerals of a still born baby, a toddler, two teenagers
and a young father within a short space of time.
Death left so many reeling with shock and so many questions.
I also needed to deal with my own grief and the anguish of each family
knowing that I didn’t have any slick answers as to why death should disrupt our
lives.
Death leaves us floundering,
questioning, wondering, grieving, and above all, going back to God and throwing
ourselves into his loving arms, trusting him especially when we don’t
understand. We ask the question
“why”, “what good reason is there for the premature departure of someone who
still had so much to offer in this life?”
In fact, as we dwell on
questions like this, we are led to wonder about the randomness of death – like
the way a dice is thrown, and a number randomly comes up.
We feel helpless in the face of such a powerful life-destroying force.
In a few years, who will remember that we were here.
This all sounds very gloomy and depressing.
Today is the Last Sunday of the
Church Year and our readings lead us to look at some of these questions, and all
is not doom and gloom.
We heard in the reading from
Colossians, and we confessed it as our creed today,
“The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.
For in him all things were created:
things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers
or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him.
He is before all things, and in him all
things hold together” (Col 1:15-16).
Jesus is the God of all
creation. He is the Lord of lords,
the King of kings. He is the Alpha
and Omega, the beginning and end of all things.
There is no greater power or ruler in all the universe.
There is nothing in all creation that is greater than he is.
Paul goes on to say that Jesus is not only king of every part of
creation, he is also head of the church; “he is the source of the body’s
life”.
Paul tells us that God “has
rescued us from the power of darkness, and brought us into the kingdom
of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins”
(Col 1:13). We have been rescued from
the power of darkness and brought into the kingdom of Jesus, where there is love
and forgiveness and grace and mercy. We
are ruled by the gentle, loving hand of our all-powerful King.
A King who chooses not to rule by force,
but by love.
After this wonderful description
of Christ, the creator and ruler over all things; as the one who is before and
above all things and holds all things together – in other words there is no-one
greater, we know this king is not afraid to get down and dirty.
It starts in a manger in
Bethlehem at Christmas and leads us to Good Friday.
Today’s Gospel reading tells us, “When they came to the place called
the Skull, they crucified him there, along with the criminals – one on his
right, the other on his left. … The
people stood watching, and the rulers even sneered at him. … The soldiers also
came up and mocked him. … There was
a written notice above him, which read: “This is the King of the Jews”.
We see him nailed to a cross.
Blood dripping from his open wounds.
A crown of thorns jammed on his head.
The very people he had created and put on this earth jeering and treating
him with contempt. A sign put over
his head in mockery: “This is the King of the Jews.”
But this sign is closer to the
truth than anyone that day realised.
There is one man who saw the truth behind the sign – the man on a cross
alongside Jesus. He looks past the
blood and gore, the humiliation and dying, the mockery and the spitting.
With the eyes of faith, he sees a king.
He turns his head to the man next to him and says, “Jesus, remember me
when you come in your kingdom.”
At the moment when there is only
pain,
when there is no other hope,
when there is nothing he can do to find release from the guilt for his sinful
life,
when no-one else cares and no-one else will remember him,
when his only future is death and darkness,
he sees a future with Jesus.
“Look on me with your grace and mercy”, he says.
“Forgive me”.
“Jesus, please, remember me in your kingdom.”
Even in death, Jesus is an
all-powerful king. Death will not
have the last say. With his dying
breath he forgives the sinner and welcomes him into his kingdom.
He promises the man on the cross next to him that he will be remembered
and he will have life beyond death. “Truly, I tell you” which means,
“I promise that you don’t need to worry.
It’s dead certainty, today you will be with me in Paradise” (Luke 23:43).
That is also our assurance.
We are not left helpless and hopeless in the shadow of death.
Didn’t Jesus say, “I am going to prepare a place for you …
that you also may be where I am”?
Didn’t he say that “those who live and believe in him will never die”?
Didn’t Paul write, “Christ has been raised from death, as the guarantee that
those who sleep in death will also be raised” (1 Cor 15:20)?
Is it not written that “we have complete victory over death through Jesus who
loves us” and nothing can takes this way (Romans 8:37,29)?
As we close our eyes in death, Jesus also says to us, “Truly I tell you,
today you will be with me in Paradise”.
This is our hope.
This is our future. This is
what we look forward to after our journey in this life ends.
When the suffering and pain and grieving and uncertainty of this life is
over, we look forward to the Paradise that only Jesus can offer where there is
no more of the things that trouble us in this life.
When we grieve the loss of
someone dear and even when we don’t understand why this person has left us, God
promises, “I will not forget you”.
He promised that to the dying thief on the cross – “I will remember
you. I love you, your sin is
forgiven, and you will be with me in Paradise”.
We have a compassionate King who
knows our needs and feelings. He
embraces us warmly with his love.
He helps us and encourages us to trust his wisdom and assures us, “I am with
you always”. “I have written
your name on the palms of my hands” (Isaiah 49:16).
Knowing the compassion of Jesus
changes everything when we are facing the most horrible and the most terrible
things in this life, including that final moment when we take our final breath.
Back in the 1960s there were
some doctors in hospitals who were very clinical and precise.
They were distant from their patients often referring to the patient not
by name but as the heart attack in bed 6, on the appendectomy in bed 12 and so
on. A medical student, Hunter
Adams, nicknamed “Patch” Adams (you might remember the movie with the same
title), believed that knowing the patient, listening to their stories, making
them laugh, singing to them and with them even if they weren’t able to respond
and sometimes visiting the wards dressed as a clown to bring laughter to
downhearted patients, dealing with the patient as a person not a disease had a
powerful impact on the patients. He
believed that compassion and understanding and knowing the heart of the patient
were key elements in healing.
We have a Saviour who has a deep
compassion for each one of us;
he understands and deeply knows what is in our hearts;
when we are anxious, in pain, sad, fearful, uptight, screwed up inside with
guilt, worried about our health, or that of someone close;
our prayers stuck in our throats unable to say what we want to say;
stressed about the choices someone is making;
frightened about the shadow of death looming in the future.
Whatever it is that makes us
tremble, we have a king who rules the universe, who holds us in his loving
all-powerful hands, and will always have our eternal best interest at heart.
He will not let us go. Like
the thief on the cross, his promise will always ring true even when our ears are
no longer able to hear the voices of our loved ones, “I remember you.
Today you will be me in Paradise”.
So finally, how can we best be
prepared for what the future might hold for us.
Because the future is unknown and we never know what’s coming, how can we
be confident and courageous in the face of the unexpected and the inevitable?
Because we have a compassionate saviour-king
trust in the one who loves us and travels the journey alongside us,
believe in the one who knows us inside out and cares deeply for us when the
going gets tough, when we feel isolated and alone,
hope in the one who gave his life for us and frees us from guilt,
be confident in the one who says, “Today you will be with me in Paradise”,
be courageous knowing that God has our lives in his hands.
“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble”
(Psalm 46:1).
© Pastor Vince
Gerhardy
23th November, 2025
E-mail:
sermonsonthenet@outlook.com
