Easter Messages

Sermon for Easter 3, 19.04.2026

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

The sermon text for today comes from the Gospel reading, Luke 24, where we hear these two climatic words:

32‘Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?

& 35 Then the two told what had happened on the way, and how Jesus was recognised by them when he broke the bread.

Let us pray: Lord, sanctify us in the truth: your Word is Truth. Amen.

This Gospel reading is a favourite for many, and for good reason. It tells us what happened on the very first Easter afternoon as the Sun set on that first New Day of the Season of Grace in which we live. Jesus has been raised from death, but the full joy and understanding of it have not yet reached the hearts of all the disciples. Not even one of the chosen eleven, he being Thomas, had yet “seen and believed” (Jn 20:29).

Two of the outer circle of disciples, maybe being one of the pairs of the 72 “sent out” by Jesus “ahead of him,” just 5 months earlier (Lk 10:1-17), are walking along the road to Emmaus. It’s about a seven mile journey, that’s around eleven kilometres. Not a short stroll, but a steady 2-3-hour walk. People have postulated as to the precise whereabouts of Emmaus. What is for sure is that it was located westward or north-west from Jerusalem. And as these two disciples walk, they talk. They are trying to make sense of everything that has happened: the arrest of Jesus, His crucifixion, the strange reports from the women about the empty tomb. They are confused. They are disappointed. They are grieving.

Remember that they are heading in a westerly direction. That’s where the Sun sets. As the force of the Sun literally descended upon their faces, so did their hopes and expectations disappear into the long shadows being cast upon their return home.

And then something extraordinary happens—though at first, they can’t see what’s unfolding. Jesus himself draws near and walks with them, but not with an unmistakable glory. Nor with undeniable power. And not with overwhelming brilliance. Armed yes, but not yet ready fire out all the answers that set people free to be people of God… but first with a question. Jesus sidles-up quietly, gently, almost unnoticed—like any other traveller on the road.

So why this approach? Why on earth would Jesus hide Himself? Why not reveal Himself immediately and put an end to the disciple’s confusion?

But this is not about hiding—it is about teaching – and what was to become the first climatic highpoint of any Divine Service of God to a lost and lamenting people. It’s about drawing these two precious souls into a deeper faith. For Jesus is not only concerned that they know that He is risen—He wants them to understand why He had to suffer, and what the Scriptures have always said about Him.

And so, before their eyes can be opened, their ears must first be opened. Before they recognise Him in sight as the bread is broken around table, they must learn to recognise Him in the Word.

And is this not also true for us?

The baptismal promise never fails - Christ is with us. And yet there are times in life when we do not see Him. Blinded by sin, perhaps? Yes, that can be an original cause. But the cause can also be the will of God. We may be kept from seeing for a short time, so that a fuller and deeper revelation of God’s grace, mercy and peace may arrive, when it is fitting and right and for our lasting good!

We may each go through difficulty, sorrow, uncertainty—and we may even ask, “Lord, where are you?” But later, we look back and realise: He was there all along. He was guiding. He was preserving. He was walking with us, even when we did not recognise Him.

This is the quiet, hidden way of our Lord – not in tempest, earthquake and firestorm, but in the gentle whisper that pursued a fear-filled Elijah. A Word that restored him in the way of the Lord (1 Kgs 19:9a-18).

And so this same gentle voice is heard once more: “What are you discussing together as you walk along?’

The best of Teachers is the first to ask a question! A lecture or 3-hour Sermon is kept in the back-pocket. It will be delivered in due-course, but not up-front. Jesus’ question invites the students to begin to download, and be free to open-up. And the ear, being the organ of faith reception (Rom 10:14), must be the first door to the heart to be cracked open!

So the two tell this traveller on the road everything: about Jesus of Nazareth, mighty in word and deed; about his crucifixion; about their shattered hopes—“we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel”—and about the confusing news of the empty tomb.

In their words, we hear a mixture of truth and misunderstanding. They know many facts, but they do not yet grasp the meaning.

And this is so often the case, not only for them, but for us as well.

We may know the story. We may know the events. But without Christ opening the Scriptures to us, popping our ears open to receive life, we do not fully understand.

And so Jesus responds: “‘How foolish you are, and how slow to believe all that the prophets have spoken! 26 Did not the Messiah have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?’ 27 And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets… He interpreted is not the best translation, but rather He expounded, He taught, He put the puzzle pieces together, He connected the dots, He showed them Himself, Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ in the Old Testament now fulfilled in the New.

From the first promise of God in Genesis 3:15 to the last, Jesus shows that everything points to him—that the suffering of the Christ was not an accident, not a failure, but part of God’s saving plan from the beginning.

The cross was necessary. The suffering was necessary. And the glory follows.

This is the pattern of salvation – the pattern of Divine Service.

And as He speaks, something begins to happen within them. Later they will say: “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?”

The Word of God is not empty. It is living and active. When Christ speaks through the Scriptures, He kindles faith. He warms cold hearts. He brings light into the darkness.

And so they keep walking. Jesus acts as though He will go further, after all His destination is His Ascension! But they urge Him strongly: ‘Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.’ What a beautiful request! The day is ending. Darkness is coming. And they do not want to be without Him.

Henry Francis Lyte (1793-1847) put it this way:

1 Abide with me; fast falls the eventide,

The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide:

When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,

Help of the helpless, O abide with me. (LH 543)

This is also our prayer: “Stay with us, Lord.”

Stay with us when the light fades.
Stay with us when life is uncertain.
Stay with us when we do not understand.

And Jesus answers that prayer.

He goes in to stay with them. And then, at table, the invited guest becomes table Host! He takes bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them. And in that moment, their eyes are opened. They recognise Him, the resurrected Lord of life. He is made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

Here we see not only a simple meal, but a sign pointing us to the Lord’s Supper, where Christ continues to give himself to His people. In the breaking of the bread, He is present—His body given, His blood shed—for the forgiveness of sins.

Just as those disciples came to recognise Him there, you, too, will be shown Him. And when all things are ready, you are called to recognise Him—not with eyes alone, but with the eyes of faith - eyes that can now pierce through the gloom that wants draws us away to the west, and on account of Jesus of Nazareth, must do an about-face and head east to an abiding home, towards the rising Son of the resurrection and the dawn of the New Day.

And then, as suddenly as Jesus appeared, He vanishes from their sight.

But now everything has changed.

They are no longer sad. They are no longer confused. They are no longer weary.

Instead, they are filled with joy and energy. Jesus of Nazareth has transformed them.

When He opens the Scriptures and reveals himself, everything changes. Sorrow turns to joy. Weariness turns to strength. Fear turns to boldness.

And so they immediately go back where? To the church assembled in the Upper Room! Why? To tell all those who are unsure of what that will see, how their resurrected Lord and Teacher opened up the Scriptures to them and was made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

This, too, is the life of the Church. Each Sunday, we gather—not on a road to Emmaus, but here—and the same risen Jesus comes to us. He draws near to us. He speaks to us through his Word. He opens the Scriptures. He gives Himself to us in the Sacrament. These are the two great gifts to the Church: the Word and the Supper – those very things that make a Christian who partakes a gift to the world!

So as we go into the week ahead, with all its challenges and uncertainties, we hold onto this promise:

Jesus walks with us.

Even when we do not see Him.
Even when we do not understand.
Even when our hearts are heavy.

He is there—speaking, guiding, sustaining.

And so we pray:

Stay with us, Lord Jesus.

Stay with us in your Word.
Stay with us in your Supper.
Stay with us in every step of our journey.

Open our eyes to recognise you.
Open our hearts to believe your Word.
And kindle within us that burning faith that cannot remain silent, but goes out into the world with joy.

For you are risen.
You are with us.
And you will never leave us nor forsake us.

In your holy name we pray. Amen.

And the peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in the risen Lord Jesus. Amen.

Sermon for Easter 5 18.05.2025

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the risen Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Text: John 19:38-40

Later, Joseph of Arimathea asked Pilate for the body of Jesus. Now Joseph was a disciple of Jesus, but secretly because he feared the Jewish leaders. With Pilate’s permission, he came and took the body away. 39 He was accompanied by Nicodemus, the man who earlier had visited Jesus at night. Nicodemus brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about thirty-five kilograms. 40 Taking Jesus’ body, the two of them wrapped it, with the spices, in strips of linen. This was in accordance with Jewish burial customs.

Let us pray: Resurrected Lord Jesus, quiet our hearts and minds that we may listen attentively with our minds that are renewed in your Word and our hearts enlivened with the Holy Spirit. Amen.

"God, did you do this for me?"

Brothers and sisters in Christ: I have a wonderfully successful conversation starter for you. Next time you want to strike up a conversation with someone in church or on the street, open with the question, "When the time comes, what clothes do you want to wear in your coffin?"

What do you think about my great new conversation starter? Does it sound like it would be successful in gettin' the conversation ball rollin'? Does it sound like a cheery topic to start a good chin-wag?

It's been said that, as far as depressing subjects go, grave-clothes must sit somewhere between a tax audit and long-term dental care. The question, "What are you planning to wear in your casket?" is not "dinner-table friendly."

No one likes grave-clothes. No one discusses grave-clothes, at least until the Funeral Director has to broach the subject with loved ones.

The apostle John, however, was the exception. If we could ask him what grave-clothes meant to him, he would say that he eventually, and at the same time, suddenly came to realize that burial garments are a sign of triumph, not tragedy. John would tell us that on the first Easter Sunday, God took the clothing of death and made it a symbol of life.

Can God do the same for you? Can he make a symbol of death into a symbol of life, for you?

Everyone receives a symbol of tragedy in their life somewhere along the journey. Some receive just the one symbol, while others receive them multiple times. Your symbol might be a precious box of old family photos. It might be a hospital I.D. bracelet. It might be a lengthy scar. It might be a court order. We don't like these symbols, nor do we want to add to our collection. Like wrecked cars in a scrap-metal yard, they clutter up our hearts with memories of bad days.

But can God use such things for something good? How far can we go with verses like what St Paul says in Romans 8:28, "In everything God works for the good of those who love him"? Does the word "everything" actually mean "all things?" Surely "everything" couldn't possibly include such things as tumors, or strokes, or heart disease or any other kind of kick-in-the-guts, life-changing verdict?

But the apostle John would answer in the affirmative. He would tell you that God can turn any tragedy into triumph, if only one can wait and watch. Even that unmentionable experience in your life can be transformed by God into triumph.

To prove his point, John would tell you about his Good Friday experience.

‘Later, Joseph of Arimathea asked Pilate for the body of Jesus…Taking Jesus’ body, the two of them wrapped it, with the spices, in strips of linen…’ (John 19:38-40).

Joseph of Arimathea and the "nocturnal" Nicodemus were shy during Christ's life, but were courageous at his death. They came together to bury Jesus. They ascended Golgotha bearing the burial clothing. They had been faced with the question, "What do we bury him in?"

Pilate allowed it. Joseph had the tomb. Nicodemus had the spices and linens. John states that Nicodemus brought seventy-five pounds of myrrh and aloes, an amount fit for the burial of a king. John also comments on the linens because to him they were a picture of Friday's tragedy. To him, as long as there were no graveclothes, as long as there was no tomb, as long as there was no coroner, there was hope. But with the arrival of the two Funeral Directors - Joseph and Nicodemus - well, this triggered the departure of John's sense of hope. Now, more than ever before, graveclothes were a tangible reminder that his friend and his future would now be wrapped in cloth and sealed behind a rock.

But John didn't know what you know. He didn't know that Friday's tragedy would be Sunday's triumph. He would later confess that he, 'did not yet understand from the Scriptures that Jesus must rise from the dead' (John 20:9).

Something kept John hanging around waiting. Was it that he was busy looking after Mary? Was it that he didn't have anywhere else to go? Was it that he now had no direction or energy? Was it all of the above? It certainly wasn't that he was waiting for Sunday's surprise!

All John did, perhaps all he could do, was to stay as close to Jesus as he could. What about you? If you were in John's position, what do you do? When you are somewhere between yesterday's tragedy and tomorrow's triumph, what do you do? What is it that you could do?

John chose to wait. Because he waited on the Lord he was still around on Sunday morning to see triumph blossom from tragedy.

‘Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. 2 So she came running to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, and said, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!’

3 So Peter and the other disciple started for the tomb. 4 Both were running, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. 5 He bent over and looked in at the strips of linen lying there but did not go in. 6 Then Simon Peter came along behind him and went straight into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen lying there, 7 as well as the cloth that had been wrapped round Jesus’ head. The cloth was still lying in its place, separate from the linen. 8 Finally the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went inside. He saw and believed’ (John 20:2-8).

What was it he saw? He saw those dreaded grave-clothes again - strips of linen cloth. He saw the cloth that had been around Jesus' head...but now folded up and laid in a different place from the strips of linen.

The original Greek provides helpful information. John employs a term that means "rolled up," or "still in their folds." The grave-clothes had not been torn off and discarded in a pile on the ground. The grave-clothes were rolled and folded; a fact that “Yours is the glory, risen, conquering Son,” hymn-writer, Edmond Budry, doesn’t miss.

Surely, if someone moved the body, they would not be so careful as to neatly roll and fold the grave-clothes, leaving them behind? So, if neither friend, nor foe, took the body, then who did?

This was John's question, and this question led him to his discovery - 'He saw and believed' (John 20:8). It wasn't his privilege, like it was Mary Magdalene's, to see and speak with the resurrected Jesus, but rather it was just to see Jesus' grave-clothes, not scatted on the ground - but still in their folds - a miracle.

Through the rags of death, John saw the power of life. And the burial wrap transformed the beloved disciple's life!

He would later see how Jesus had been doing that to him all along. Empty wine jugs at a wedding banquet were transformed into a symbol of Jesus' power and authority. An animal's feeding trough was transformed into the cradle of God's devotion towards mankind. Even a Roman execution device was transformed into symbol of God's love for the world.

We shouldn't be so surprised that God takes the wrappings of death and makes them the picture of life!

So, can God do something similar in your life? Could he take your tragedy and turn it into a symbol of triumph?

He did for a guy called Rafael Rosales. Rafael ministered to Christians in El Salvador. Some Salvadoran militia viewed him as an enemy of their movement and tried to kill him. Left to burn to death in his car, Rafael barely escaped with his life. He escaped the burning car, but he couldn't escape the memory. The scars would never let him.

Every glance in the mirror reminded Rafael of his tormentor's cruelty. He might have never recovered had the Lord not spoken into his heart. Rafael heard Jesus say to him, "They did the same to me." And as Jesus kept speaking these words to Rafael, he eventually, and at the same time, suddenly began to see his scars differently. Rather than serving as a reminder of his own pain, they became a picture of his Saviour's sacrifice. In time he was able to forgive his attackers. In time, Rafael returned to El Salvador to plant a new church.

Could such a transformation happen for you? I have no doubt. Do what John did and wait on the Lord. King David cried, 'I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord' (Ps 27:13-14).

The Bible really does say that, 'in everything God works for the good of those who love him.' Everything is all inclusive. Nothing remains outside of "everything." You can place your tragedy inside the promise of Romans 8:28. For the apostle John, the verse would read: 'In burial clothing, God works for the good of those who love him.' For Rafael Rosales it would read: 'In scars, God works for the good of those who love him.'

If God can change the Apostle's life, and the lives of so many through a tragedy, could it be that he will use your tragedy to change yours?

As hard as it may be to believe, like John the Apostle, you too could only be a Saturday away from a resurrection. You could be only hours away from that precious prayer of a changed heart, "God, did you do this for me?"

And the peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in the resurrected Lord Jesus. Amen.

Sourced and adapted from chapter 9 of Max Lucado's book, "Cast of Characters: Common people in the hands of an uncommon God."

Sermon for Easter 6, 05.05.2024

Grace and peace be to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

John 15:13 – ‘Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.’

Let us pray: Lord, sanctify us in the truth; your Word is Truth. Amen.

A message to my friends.

Friends in Christ: (and what better words could you possibly desire to be greeted with?); once upon a time someone had to be raised from the dead to fill a church to overflowing! Now it only takes someone to die to squash people in like sardines in a tin! How’s that for a starling morning truth – the belief in the resurrection of Jesus once filled churches, but now all it takes is a funeral to assemble the masses!

More than once last year did I receive the request: “We will need to conduct the funeral at another larger church because our loved one had a lot of friends.” And of course that’s a good thing: that they had many friends, that Christians are assembling in a most sacred space to farewell a friend and return thanks to God, that the lapsed, lost and godless have another moment in time, before it’s too late, to be confronted with their own mortality and a chance for the Holy Spirit to gift faith in Jesus who has conquered death. But the fact that once upon a time someone had to be raised from the dead to fill a church to overflowing, and not just die and be buried, is something for us committed Christians to grapple with, to lament, to pray, to ask “Why is this so?” and to get on doing something about it.

As I remarked at one of my friend’s funerals: “If you hold a call for long enough, there comes a time when you start burying, not just your parishioners, as fellow members of the Body of Christ, but on top of that, also your friends. That’s becoming much more common for me these days.”

You most senior and long-time members have said farewell to close to 150 of your fellow Grampians Parish friends since 1967. And, no doubt, we need to add more to that number when we count previous members since moved on and buried elsewhere.

As you know, it takes time to make friends. And it can take no time at all to ruin a friendship. One act of neglect, abuse or any other kind of ‘the breaking of trust’ and the relationship is “on the rocks,” if not over. So many people have been permanently scarred by such simple or detestable breaks of trust by those they once knew as friends. So when they form, a friendship that is built on trust, is to be treasured, nurtured and protected.

We all have had so many friends in life, in this place and outside of it, and praise the Lord for true friendship and the ties that bind us together. But of life and death significance, is that fact that Jesus Christ has called and still calls us - friend.

That’s what Jesus said to his disciples. He said to them, ‘15 I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. 16 You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit – fruit that will last – and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you. 17 This is my command: love each other.’

Countless obituaries have recalled the facts of how our brother or sister and friend in Christ have served the congregation and community, and how they served us well. But were all of them the perfect friend to all? Were they all immune to the sin of breaking trust? As with any group of friends, not everything is always rosy; not everyone is always at peace with each other. What if our own obituary began with a list of personal sins and faults and the list of how many friendships were lost because of them? When our family asked the minister how long will the funeral service will be, as to time the wake that follows, he would have to answer, ‘Well, how much of a sinner were they?’ So, for all of us, in truth, our wake would have to be booked for the following day! And yet knowing full well of this truth, Jesus would still dare call us his friend!

For he dared call his disciples, not just servants, but friends. But every last one of them fell derelict of duty as they fell asleep at the critical hour (Mtt 26:45). They all broke his trust in one way or another. With friends like that, who needs enemies?

Jesus dared call Simon Peter, friend. But what did Peter do? He kept his distance (Mtt 26:58) and when it came time, he denied even knowing him, not just once in a foolish act of self-preservation, but twice more. There was even a time when Peter foolishly said, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’ (Lk 5:8), when it was the perfect time to plead, “Stay with me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”

Jesus dared called Judas Iscariot, friend. And what did Judas do? As the betrayer, Judas threw away the friendship and eventually his whole life for the gratification of a small bag of silver.

Jesus dared call John, his friend. John was very close to Jesus, but he too, along with the women present kept a safe distance from their arrested and crucified Lord (Lk 23:49).

Jesus was sinless, he was the only dependable man around, and yet at one time or another his friends felt they had to keep their distance. No wonder we can be guilty of desiring to keep our distance from those given to us as friends. But Jesus dares. Jesus cares that not one sinner be given the treatment they deserve; even the death sentence they deserve for breaking trust with him!

Restored to his duty, the apostle Peter, the thrice denier, went on to testify to that fact. John and the rest of Jesus’ friends who had endeavoured to maintain a safe distance, not to mention Paul, the self-confessed worst sinner of all sinners, were transformed by the cleansing and forgiveness won by blood of the Lamb who was slain. Thank God that even a denier of Jesus can be reconciled and restated as his friend. Only the blood of Jesus has that kind of power – to mend broken friendships. Thank God, Peter, the thrice denier, could be given the faith by God, in that moment of clarity, to say, ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God’ (Jn 6:68-69).

The Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, ‘This man welcomes sinners, and eats with them.’ Yes he does! Sunday by Sunday Jesus sits down with you at table. He invites you, his friends, to “Come, for all things are ready,” and feeds you the fruit that will last, saying, ‘Take and eat, this is my body given for you. Take and drink, this is my blood of the new covenant, shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.” It takes the breaking of Christ’s body on the cross, to mend all broken friendships.

Friends in Christ: the picture on the screen is one to remember. “I used to think that love was shaped like a heart. But it’s actually like a cross.”

And the peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, the friend you can depend on in life and death. Amen.

Sermon for Easter 6, 14.05.2023

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

On the night in which he was betrayed, Jesus continued comforting his mostly clueless disciples, saying, ‘I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. Before long, the world will not see me any more, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live’ (John 14:18-19).

Let us pray: O Lord God, our heavenly Father, in you is the fullness of light and wisdom: Enlighten our minds by your Holy Spirit, and give us grace to receive your Word with reverence and humility, without which no one can understand your truth. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen.

Poignant words.

Brothers and sisters in Christ: If or when you had opportunity, for there is not always the opportunity, “What was the content of your final conversation with someone you dearly loved – your Mum, your Dad, your child, your spouse before they died?” By the grace of God, if you had that home or hospice or hospital bedside opportunity to talk to them, and more significantly, they to talk to you, or just as precious squeeze of the hand acknowledgement, what was said? What poignant words did they have to say to you in their final days, perhaps in that final hour that they were given the strength?

I’m quite confident, if, by the grace of God that opportunity arose, neither of you conversed at length about the weather, or about national politics, or about the price of potatoes! Those mundane things, I doubt, counted for much when time was of the essence. Such things matter not when you know that someone is going to die. By the grace of God, I can testify, that when called into such a time and place, that your friends and cherished loved ones – your Mum or Dad, your spouse – that they didn’t desire to chat about the weather or politics or the price of potatoes with me as their pastor. When the opportunity was taken, these have been the most poignant and precious of all times I ever had with them. They were times that have stuck in my memory. Those times have shaped me personally and certainly shaped the message I was privileged to deliver at their funeral. I imagine many, if not all of you, could say the same about your most unique and precious last moments, or whenever God’s grace opened up that opportune time, spent really conversing with them.

By God’s grace, your time will also come. It will be you in bed this time, knowing that you are going to die. If, or when, by God’s grace you are given the strength and opportunity to talk, as one, two or even as everyone gathers by your side, what will you say? What has meant the most to you? What do you want to be remembered and passed on? What do you want to say? What must not be left unsaid? What will be your hopes – for your spouse, your children, grandchildren, siblings, friends, and yes, what needs to be said to your pastor? Since God’s grace doesn’t always afford such circumstances to unfold, should your deathbed speech be spoken sooner – brought forward to loved ones and others alike?

As it begun in last Sunday’s Gospel and continues today in John chapter 14, Jesus is giving a final word to his disciples before his imminent death, by crucifixion. Some, if not the most poignant words of Jesus are delivered when he knows that his death is imminent. All of Christ’s words are important, no doubt, but listen to the poignancy of his words again. Consider their content.

‘If you love me, keep my commands. 16 And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you for ever – 17 the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you. 18 I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. 19 Before long, the world will not see me any more, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live. 20 On that day you will realise that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you. 21 Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me. The one who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love them and show myself to them’

How might these words shape you? How have they shaped you already? How might they shape the things to come?

That the disciples were to show their love for Jesus by keeping his commands and precepts and not lamenting over his death, for as the Spirit would soon instruct them that ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory’ (Isa 25:8; 1 Cor 15:54), how did that shape their confidence in Christ? How did it transform them from frightened men hiding behind locked doors and launch them out into the world as fearless preachers and martyrs for the sake of the Gospel? As commentator Matthew Henry put it, “The disciples’ obedience to the Gospel was a better sacrifice then their tears shed for their Lord.”

And knowing that the promise had been delivered, come Pentecost Sunday, that the Holy Spirit was now available to all and not just some, and not as an Old Covenant prelude, but rather because all sinners have been reconciled by the blood of the Lamb, how did that conform the disciples to the image of God? How did it conform the disciples and apostles to the purpose of God’s will and thus bring all praise and glory to Father, Son and Spirit?

Brothers and sisters in Christ: If only we considered more often that our death-bed conversations are also launching points for reconnections into all eternity!

There’s a hymn from the old Australian Lutheran Hymnbook titled, ‘God be with you till we meet again!' [ALHB 543]

1 God be with you till we meet again!

By His counsels guide, up hold you,

With His sheep securely fold you;