The ultimate memento mori.

Sermon for Trinity 16

Ephesians 3:13-21  +  Luke 7:11-17

Of all the experiences human beings share in common, the one that we all share in common, without fail, is death. You might think, well, there’s also birth. But tragically, that’s not the case. You know that there is a powerful movement in the world, a movement of pure, demonic evil called abortion that has denied even that experience to tens of millions of children. No, not even birth unites all human beings. But death does.

Death is the universally common fate that awaits every single human being—except only for those who are still alive when the Lord Jesus comes again, and may He come quickly! Otherwise, for as much as people like to ignore it, we’re all heading toward death, which is why it has been said that the Church exists, not so much to help people to live well, but to help people to die well.

If we remember that death is the fate we’re all heading toward, if we remember that we’re mortal, it will have a profound effect on how we live. What is one of the most dangerous aspects of youth, but that young people often live as if they think they’re invincible, as if they’re immortal? For thousands of years people have recognized the value of remembering our mortality, even creating symbols to remind people of their mortality. Like a skull or a skeleton. Those symbols have a Latin name: Memento mori. We might call them “reminders that you’re going to die.”

Does that sound morbid? Actually, we’re coming up on Halloween, aren’t we? In a way, Halloween is a sort of memento mori, with its skulls and skeletons and gravestones. Reminders of death can be useful things, if we view death rightly, from a Christian perspective. As Moses prays in Psalm 90, Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90 is a memento mori, as is the book of Ecclesiastes.

The Holy Spirit holds His own memento mori before our eyes in today’s Gospel, at least momentarily. But it’s much more than that, isn’t it? It’s the reality of death combined with God’s one-of-a-kind solution to it. Who would have thought death even had a solution? That’s not part of the human experience. And yet, where Jesus is, there even death becomes a temporary, feeble thing.

The scene that unfolds in our Gospel was truly a memento mori. When an elderly person dies, it’s still wrong; it’s still not how things were meant to be; it’s still sad. The vast majority of COVID deaths, for example—80%! —have been men and women over the age of 65, and of course they are to be mourned. But we all know death is coming, and we all know that the older we get, into our 70’s and 80’s and 90’s, the more likely it is that we will meet our earthly end, in one way or another. We don’t get to live much beyond that. Death is inevitable.

But the man in our text who died is called a “young man” by Jesus, and that makes it worse, doesn’t it?, because he didn’t even reach the normal lifespan of human beings. His life was truly cut short. And worse than that, he was the only son of his mother. And worse than that, the young man’s father had already died, leaving his mother a widow, so that she’s now completely alone.

There was a procession coming out of the city, with the dead man’s body being carried in a coffin or on a sort of stretcher. Memento mori. But it was just at that moment that He in whom is Life, He who is the way, the truth, and the life, stepped forward and met the procession.

Luke tells us that Jesus had compassion on the young man’s mother. Don’t overlook that simple statement. It shows us that God is not oblivious to our suffering. He is the one who placed our race under the curse of death, but only after warning our first parents what the consequence of their sin would be. That sin that lives in all of us, the sin with which we’re born and the sins of which we’ve been guilty ever since, are the just cause of our suffering and death. But God takes no pleasure in it. On the contrary, He has compassion. Sympathy. Pity. And His pity moved Him to do the one thing that can break the curse: to make His own Son one of us, our human Brother, and then to lay the curse upon Him for us all.

But even before He bore that curse on the cross, He showed His compassion—God’s compassion—to those who were suffering, like the grieving mother in our text. Do not weep. Why? Because death is nothing to weep over? No. But because the Son of God was there. And He was going to fix it. He was going to fix the problem of death.

Jesus touched the coffin in which the young man was lying, the terrible memento mori that pictured for everyone there what their own future held in store. And then He spoke a word of command: Young man, I say to you, arise! It was a command for the body to heal itself and for the man’s soul to be reunited with his body. We note that faith played no part in this miracle, as it often did. How often Jesus said to those whom He healed, Your faith has saved you!, a picture of justification, the healing or the forgiveness of sin that takes place by the authority of Christ, through faith in Christ. Not here. Here Jesus uses His omnipotence, His almighty power over creation, as when He brought the heavens and the earth into existence, as when He turned water into wine or commanded the storm to be still or the demons to depart, as it will be on the Last Day, when both believers and unbelievers will have their souls and bodies reunited by the almighty word of Christ.

And the dead man sat up and began to speak. Just like that, death was fixed. Life was restored.

And fear came upon them all, and they glorified God, saying, “A great prophet has arisen among us!” and, “God has visited his people!” Remember, in all the history of Israel up to this point, only two resurrections had taken place, one through the great prophet Elijah, the other through his successor, the great prophet Elisha, some 800 years before the time of Christ. With good reason the people recognized Jesus as a “great prophet.” And with good reason they recognized that God had visited, had come to help His people, although they probably didn’t know just how right they were. They thought God was working through Jesus as He had done through the prophets. They didn’t know that Jesus was God in the flesh, God who had literally come to visit His people with salvation, salvation, not just from physical death, but from eternal death and condemnation.

But, for the most part, not in that order. In our text, Jesus shows His power over physical death. But that was rare. He only raised a handful of people from physical death during His earthly ministry, and all of them would die again one day. He didn’t come the first time to undo the death of our bodies. He came to free us from the curse and condemnation that are the power and sting of death, by receiving our curse and condemnation in His body. And then He rose from the dead in order to apply His sacrificial death to believers, and to govern this world from the right hand of God, from where He will come to judge the living and the dead and to undo death forever for those who are found believing in Him.

But we don’t see that now. We don’t see Jesus undoing death. What we see now are constant reminders of death. Memento mori. Every death that we witness, of course, is a reminder of our own imminent death. But also every report of death in the news. Every illness. Every ache and pain. Every gray hair. Reminding us that we’re going to die. As if that weren’t enough, we’re given a memento mori with every face mask and with the multiple, daily COVID reports. The godless world has learned to manipulate people with these constant reminders of death, because they know that the more death is held before our eyes, the more people will be eagerly searching for some way to avoid death a little longer, ready to do just about anything for the one who promises a moment’s relief or escape. You see, reminders of death have a profound effect on how people live.

But for you, Christians, believers in Christ, there is a memento mori that matters much more: it’s the crucifix itself. It stands before our eyes as the ultimate memento mori, a continual reminder of the death we deserved for our sins, but also as a continual reminder of the death our Lord Jesus Christ chose to suffer as the ransom for the sins of the world, but also as a continual reminder that the same Lord who died on the cross conquered death on the third day and now lives and reigns for all eternity. And therefore, it serves also as a continual reminder of the resurrection and the eternal life He has promised to all who cling to Christ crucified in faith. So the crucifix is both memento mori and memento vivere, a reminder that, through Christ, you are going to live!

That life after death is pictured for us in Revelation chapter 7: They are before the throne of God, and serve Him day and night in His temple. And He who sits on the throne will dwell among them. They shall neither hunger anymore nor thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any heat; for the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them and lead them to living fountains of waters. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.

But even before then, you get to live. You were dead in sins and trespasses, but you have been made alive in Christ; by grace you have been saved. You have been born again. You will never see death, Jesus says. He who lives and believes in Me will never die.

That’s the promise of the Gospel. That’s the promise of Holy Baptism. The baptismal font is another memento mori. As Paul writes to the Romans, We were buried with Christ through Baptism into death. But it’s also a memento vivere, a reminder of life, as Paul goes on, so that just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we, too, should walk in a new life.

Knowing that will have an effect on how you live. No longer can you live for this dying world. No longer can you practice dead works in service to death. No longer do you need to live in fear or dread, or hang your hopes on any man or manmade solution. Because the knowledge of Christ crucified has prepared you for death. And the certainty of the risen Christ will be your hope. And the faithfulness of Christ’s promise will be the steady foundation under your feet.

Memento mori. Yes, remember that you are going to die. But let every reminder of death point you to the baptismal font and to the crucifix, so that you remember Him who died for you, and where you were united with His death. And then memento vivere. Remember that Christ was raised from the dead, and that, through Him, you also will live! Amen.