Momentary sorrow, everlasting joy

Sermon for Jubilate – Easter 3

1 Peter 2:11-20  +  John 16:16-23

The interplay between sorrow and joy pretty much characterizes the Christian life. I say “the Christian life.” Obviously non-Christians also have times of sorrow and times of joy. But never the kind of joy that Christians have: the joy of knowing—knowing! where we came from, why we’re here, why things are so messed up in the world and in ourselves, and what God has done about it, is doing about it, and will do about it; the joy of knowing the true God, knowing how to be accepted by Him and that, by faith in Christ, we have been accepted by Him; knowing the love of an everlasting Father and of His Son who gave Himself for us; knowing the peace of sins forgiven, death defeated, guilt erased, and eternal life to look forward to, where there will be no more sorrow at all, but only perfect joy, no longer as something to look forward to, but as something we will fully experience.

For now, there is still sorrow mingled with that Christian joy. A little while of sorrow, followed by joy that no one will take away from you, as Jesus promised His apostles in today’s Gospel. Ponder the words of Jesus again this morning and listen to what He says about the momentary sorrow and the everlasting joy.

“A little while, and you will not see me. And again, a little while, and you will see me, because I am going to the Father.” Truly, truly, I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will be turned into joy. It was Maundy Thursday evening in the upper room. In a little while Jesus would be hauled away, tried, crucified, and buried. The disciples wouldn’t see him for a little while. They would weep and mourn, and the world would rejoice. But then they would see Him, because He would rise from the dead and appear to them on Easter Sunday and over the next forty days, until He went to the Father on the day of His ascension.

They didn’t understand that at the time, though, on Maundy Thursday, before the events took place. They had to go through the sorrow that accompanied not seeing Jesus, even though Jesus told them that joy would surely follow.

It’s the same for us. We know the joy is coming. We have a foretaste of it even now, in all the ways I mentioned at the beginning of the sermon, and in hearing the Gospel and celebrating the Lord’s Supper with one another, and with Him. But until we see Jesus, which won’t be until the end of this world, or the end of our time in it, the joy of Christians is constantly mingled with sorrow. And I don’t just mean the same sorrows that all people face, and there are plenty of those in this sin-stricken world. No, Jesus says that we Christians will mourn as the world rejoices, as the world gets it way in so many ways, even as it got its way in putting Jesus to death.

We mourn—as the world rejoices!—over the sad state of the Christian Church on earth. On the one hand, false doctrine and indifference toward the Word of Christ plague the visible Church, and Christians are willing to compromise on God’s Word in order to hold onto less important things. On the other hand, pride and lovelessness also abound among those who are called Christians, even if their doctrine is technically correct. Believers in Christ rightly mourn over that, while the world is happy to see the Church so divided and distorted.

We also mourn—as the world rejoices!—over society’s demonic attack on all that is good and right, on the family as God created it, on the very language we use, on reality itself. We mourn as the world celebrates and normalizes depravity and wickedness, sexual immorality and murder in all their forms. We mourn over people’s apathy or outright hatred toward children growing in their mother’s womb, and toward marriage, and toward decency. Meanwhile, the world rejoices, because the world belongs to the devil, whose highest goal is to pervert and destroy God’s good creation, and to make the Word of God appear foolish to those who are perishing.

Yes, we mourn over our own sins, too, or at least, we’d better. The good we want to do, we don’t do—not fully. And the evil we don’t want to do—that’s what we often do, as St. Paul says to the Romans in chapter 7. God’s children want to be perfect and holy, like our Father, like Jesus. We want to work together with His Holy Spirit, who is always tugging us toward what is right. And yet, try as we might, we can’t reach the goal. That doesn’t mean we stop trying. If you stop trying, if you stop struggling against the flesh, you stop being a Christian. But the more we try, the more we realize how far we have to go to grow into the perfectly loving image of our perfectly loving God. And so we mourn over our sin, while the world rejoices to see Christians not behaving as Christians should.

How do we live with the sorrow? Jesus tells us how. We learn a lesson from mothers—a fitting lesson for Mothers’ Day. A woman has sorrow when she is giving birth, because her hour has come. But as soon as she gives birth to the child, she no longer remembers the anguish because of her joy that a human being has been born into the world. So it is that you also have sorrow now. But I will see you again, and your heart will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you. Why do women willingly go through childbirth, knowing the sorrow and pain that accompany it? Because they know that the joy of bringing a little girl or a little boy into the world is worth far more than the sorrow. The sorrow is gone in a moment. But that life that a mom brings into the world—that human life usually lasts a lot longer than a moment. It has the potential to be around for 70 or 80 years, or longer. It has the potential to do much good in the world. And if that child that’s born into the world is brought to Jesus for cleansing and is brought into His kingdom through Baptism and faith, then he or she has the potential to live, not just 70 or 80 years, but forever! What honor God has given to women, in spite of the sorrow that’s inevitably involved!

The joy God has in store for His people is even greater, because it’s more certain. A mom doesn’t know if her child will live a long life on the earth, or if that child will believe in Jesus for eternal life. But the mere hope of it, the hope of that joy, gets her through the sorrow of childbirth. The people of God, on the other hand, will most certainly see Jesus again. And until then, He will most certainly continue to provide His Means of Grace—His Word and Sacrament, through which His Holy Spirit will most certainly guard and keep you steadfast in the faith, if you use these Means of Grace and pray and resolve to walk with His Spirit in love. You believers will most certainly see Jesus again, not to be judged and condemned by Him, with the rest of the world, but to join Him at the eternal marriage feast, in everlasting joy.

So embrace the sorrow now, because it’s the only path to that joy. And meanwhile, remember the joy that is already yours: the joy of knowing where you came from, why you’re here, why things are so messed up in the world and in yourself, and what God has done about it, is doing about it, and will do about it. Remember the joy of knowing the true God, knowing how to be accepted by Him and that, by faith in Christ, you have been accepted by Him. Remember the joy of knowing the love of an everlasting Father and of His Son who gave Himself for you; the joy of knowing the peace of sins forgiven, death defeated, and guilt erased. May God—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—preserve you in that joy through all the sorrows of this life. Amen.