Prince of Peace and Christ Our Savior Lutheran Churches                                 November 9, 2003

Pastor Steve Geiger                                                                                          Last Judgment

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Hebrews 9:24-28

24 For Christ did not enter a man-made sanctuary that was only a copy of the true one; he entered heaven itself, now to appear for us in God’s presence. 25 Nor did he enter heaven to offer himself again and again, the way the high priest enters the Most Holy Place every year with blood that is not his own. 26 Then Christ would have had to suffer many times since the creation of the world. But now he has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to do away with sin by the sacrifice of himself. 27 Just as man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgment, 28 so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many people; and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him.

 

 

The Vanishing Is No Act                                                                    Hebrews 9:24-28

            1.  Now you see it

            2.  Now you don’t

 

Take a close look at this nickel.  I’m going to put my hands behind my back, and then I’d like you to guess which hand the nickel is in.

 

Nope.  Not in this hand.  But it’s not in the other one either.  Where is it?

 

I am no magician.  I don’t know any of the super-secret tricks magicians use to make people think that things unnatural are actually taking place.  I just have a watch, with a band, which is holding that nickel which seemed to disappear.

 

It’s back.

 

Disappeared.  But gone?  Not really.  Maybe we don’t see the magician’s rabbit, but the rabbit is somewhere.  Maybe we don’t see the nickel, but the nickel is somewhere.  This is true whenever magicians use their tricks.  Vanishing acts, we call them.  An act.  Not real.  Just pretend.

 

One wonders if some in the Old Testament Israelite community ever felt this way in connection with their sins.  Disappeared, but they’re back.

 

Perhaps you know that there was one special day every year called the Day of Covering, or the Day of Atonement.  But literally, covering.  The day on which the Children of Israel were reminded that their sins deserved from the Almighty God death.  That if God saw them and saw their sins on them, they would be destroyed.

 

So what did God do?  One day every year he had the head pastor, the high priest, cover over the sins.  He hid the sins, or better said, he hid God’s eyes from the sins.  The high priest would kill a bull, take some of its blood, and go behind a curtain into the Most Holy Place of the temple.  He would have with him a bowl full of hot coals.  He would have with him two handfuls of sweet-smelling incense.  Once behind the curtain, he could have seen with his eyes the Ark of the Covenant, a box that was God’s visible presence among his people.  Quickly he poured the incense onto the hot coals.  Smoke would rise.  Smoke would hide the box, the presence of God, from the priest, a representative of sinful people. 

 

No smoke?  That sinful priest would die.  Smoke?  The sinner would live to sprinkle the blood from the bull, then from a goat, on the top of the Ark, in front of the Ark.

 

Smoke.  Blood.  Covering the sins of the people.  God’s anger, quieted.  Deserved punishment, put off.  Sin, vanished.

 

But there it is again.  It would keep popping back.  More sins.  Every year.  So that once every year the high priest would have to do the same thing again.  Because the people would sin again.  Complaining.  Divorce.  Lust.  Arguing.  Pride.  Gossip.  Assuming the worst.  Complaining.  Divorce.  Lust.  Arguing.  Pride.  Gossip.  Assuming the worst.  Now you see it.  Now you don’t.  Now you see it again.  Now you don’t.  Now you see it again.

 

Sin.  Smoke and blood could cover.  But more sin.  Next year, more smoke and blood.  But more sin.  Then smoke.  Then blood.  The fact that these things needed to be repeated again and again made it clear that there was something incomplete about this process.  The nickel kept showing up again.  Consciences would see more sin.  Consciences could continue to accuse.

 

Sometimes you might feel that you have the same problem.  Your conscience never seems to be at peace.  You come to church and confess your sins, you rejoice that you are forgiven, but then you head home and fall into a trap of the devil, doing the very same thing wrong you did before.  You may lose your temper with your children.  You may grow lazy and instead of doing the Bible study or devotion you told yourself you were going to start last week, you fall into a chair and get lulled by images on a screen.  The grudge you so eagerly confessed and found forgiven you discover coming back into your mind.  Jealous you are, unwilling to forgive you’ve become, stubborn you’ve acted, and you know you are in huge trouble.  Because man is destined to die.  And face judgment.

 

Perhaps you had the chance last night to look into the sky and marvel at a moon disappearing.  A miracle of nature which scientists describe as part of a regular pattern that goes on and on.  Predictable.  I, maybe you, found out about this eclipse days before it happened.  I heard the exact time when the moon would disappear.  Predictable.  Just like your alarm clock, when it rings at the time you set it..  Or school, starting the same time every day.  Lunch, always at noon.  Dinner, every evening.  Holidays, repeated.  Summer and winter, on a cycle.

 

But man is destined to die.  In a moment all that is predictable, all that is regular, all that happens again and again and again will stop.  You will face judgment.  I will face judgment.  Whenever the moon eclipses the next predictable time, whoever has died since the last event will not see it.

 

The conscience knows this.  We can run.  We can try to forget.  But our conscience accuses, assaults, torments.  We can be terrified and become convinced that it just doesn’t matter anymore.  Might as well just keep on sinning, might as well just do whatever we want because there’s no point.  Despair we can.  To give up, we are tempted.  I’m guilty, and there is no hope.

 

But wait.  The Holy Spirit isn’t working anymore to show that the plan for cleansing consciences has not yet been completely revealed.  Yes, in the Old Testament, the Holy Spirit wanted to make clear through the annual necessity of a priest going into the temple that the path to true victory over sin had not yet been completely uncovered.  There was something to wait for.  There was a Messiah who was still to come.  Yet even then, it was through faith in this Messiah that Old Testament consciences could be calmed.

 

What about your conscience?  When you are tormented by the reality that you have continued to be a sinner.  Is there no peace?

 

Now you see it, your sin.  But listen.  Now you don’t.  The Messiah has come.  Who did something permanent with sin.  Now you see it—now you don’t—now you see it again?

 

No.  This vanishing is no act.

 

In the Old Testament temple there was an element of an act.  There were props.  The temple itself was a prop.  All of it, just a copy of the heavenly reality.  The presence of God.  The natural separation between sinners and God.  The amazing grace of a God who encouraged the pouring of smoke before his eyes so that humans might stand in his presence and he might not see their sin.

 

That was an act.   An important act.  An act tied most closely to a coming reality. 

 

But Jesus was no actor.  Jesus didn’t go where the props were.  Jesus went into heaven, where God was really angry at us.  Jesus stood before his eyes.  And there was no smoke.  God saw him, a sinner.  Our sins, made his.  The very thing that made God mad.  The evil words and refusals to do the hard, right thing.  The grudges.  The lust.  Sexual immorality.  Gambling away of needed money.  Laziness.  Doubt.  All of it, of every human, taken up by this Jesus.

 

Now you see it.  Blackness in the sky, and it was no eclipse.  Torture on a cross, and it was not merely thorns.  A sucking away of all that could be called love, so that in torment he screamed, “Why?  Why?”  Yet so willing.  So calm.  Not the blood of bulls or goats, but the blood of the precious Lamb of God, at the end of the ages, sacrificed . . .

 

. . . so that he has to do it again next year?  So that he has to die for the sins of the world once more in 2004?  So that you need to wonder whether the sins your conscience is accusing you of have already been dealt with in the presence of God?  Wondering whether they’ve permanently been taken away or not?

 

Once.  Not many times.  At the end of the ages.  To do away with sin.  Jesus, standing in the presence of God for us.  Holding out his perfect life and sprinkling before the throne of heaven the only forever perfect blood.  This was no act.  This was real.  The anger of God was set to the side.  The blood God demanded all was paid.  God isn’t angry any more.

 

No act.  Now you see it.  Sin.  Now you don’t.  And that nickel is not going to reappear.

 

Which means your conscience can be at peace.  Because of actions you could have seen with eyes.  Through the eyes of those who witnessed the death.  Then resurrection, through the eyes of apostles present that first night.  Then through eyes of Thomas, absent that first night.  Alive.  Appeared before the face of God.  Sacrificed his body for our sins.  Died.  But alive.

 

For sure.  Wrists marked and side scarred and a living mouth consuming food prepared by disciples . . . this was real.  This is real.

 

Your salvation is real.  Your sin has been taken care of.  He who believes and is baptized will be saved.  Let your conscience be quiet, or let your conscience shout but be called a liar.

 

God speaks truth, that you might now, trusting in him, wait eagerly for that moment when your salvation will appear. 

 

It’s coming.

 

Just as for every human there are two things, death and then judgment, so for the Messiah there also are two things.  He died—sacrificed once to take away the sins of many people. But there’s a second thing for him too: without sin he will be seen by those who are awaiting him eagerly for salvation.

 

Without sin.  When he comes back again, he won’t have any sin on him.

 

Again, that you might know . . . have you every had a dirty child come home?  An afternoon of playing.  You send the child to the shower.  The child does a great job.  When it’s time to sit down for dinner, you have at your table a young man or woman who is sparkling clean.  You look and you know that the dirt is gone.

 

When you and I have the privilege of seeing finally on the very last day our Lord coming down on the clouds, he will be sparkling clean.  Which should tell you something.

 

Remember?  He took on himself the sins of the world.  The dirt of the world.  Now you see it?  No, you won’t.  He is going to come again without sin, which means he took care it.  You can eagerly look forward to salvation.  The dirt is down the drain and done for.

 

It has vanished, and it is no act.

 

Amen.