In Memoriam +Eleanore Joyce Warmbier+

 

In Memoriam +Eleanore Joyce Warmbier+

March 25, 2025

Text: Rev. 7:9-17

            Ellie has taught us all what it means to die a Christian death.  When you live in Christ, you die in Christ.  Which is to say, you go on living in Christ.  Ellie laid down in her bed and took up her Bible.  I’ve seen that Bible many times, and maybe so have you.  She was rarely without it.  I would love to know what passage she was pondering.  I suppose I’ll have to ask next time I see her.  But I do know why she was pondering it.  She was in holy conversation with her Lord.  She just wanted to hear His voice… needed to hear His voice.  And the Lord spoke to her.  He speaks to us in His Scriptures.  As she read and took in the Words from the sacred page, she was hearing her Good Shepherd’s voice.  And so, it was the most natural thing in the world when, at one moment, she was hearing her unseen Lord as the Words registered in her head, and the next, she was hearing Him audibly, and seeing Him face to face.  She lived in Christ (baptized into Christ, believing in Christ).  So she died in Christ.  Which is to say, she is at this very moment living in Christ.

            Now, as I said, I’ve seen that Bible many times.  And I’ve read Scripture with her many times.  And in recent years, that was often in the context of a Communion visit.  I would pick the passage, and she would often try to find it in her own Bible, and I would try to preach a little sermon, which would usually end up being more of a conversation, and that was really quite beautiful.  And all in the context of our crucified and risen Lord Jesus, coming to us, present with us, His body, His blood, given and shed for us for the forgiveness of sins.  He spoke to us (the Scriptures), and then there He was (the Sacrament).  And it strikes me now, that that was (to use an inadequate and underwhelming phrase) a practice run for what happened when Ellie closed her eyes to this life, and opened them to behold Jesus Christ.

            By the way, whatever I thought I was going to say during those Communion visits, the conversation was nearly always the same.  Three questions: 1. Can Glen see me here?  2. Will I recognize Glen and my mother in heaven?  And 3. What will it be like?  Well, the third question really encompasses all three questions, and it was not uncommon for us to turn to Revelation 7, our second reading.  First, with the caveat, though, that even with this little peek behind the veil, given in our reading, we can’t really know what it will be like until we’re there.  We know just enough.  And it is enough, because it is the fulness of what our Lord has revealed to us.  But He very wisely leaves us wanting more.  And anyway, we wouldn’t understand it if He did reveal more, and even if we did understand it, we might die from the sheer joy of it, and the overwhelming majesty.

            But here is what our Lord reveals to us.  A great multitude.  From every nation, tribe, people, and language.  And they’re all focused on one thing.  They’re all enthralled by that one thing.  Or better, Person.  The Lamb.  The Lamb, there on the throne with God the Father.  The Lamb, slain, but now standing.  They’re singing to Him, this multitude.  With angels and archangels and all the company of heaven.  They are singing and worshiping God, and the Lamb, falling on their faces before His throne.  And they aren’t focused on themselves, though they themselves are clothed in splendor.  White robes washed in the blood of the Lamb.  That is, their sins are forgiven, and now they shine with His own glory.  Waving palm branches, the symbol of victory, the fulfillment of Palm Sunday, when Jesus rode into Jerusalem to defeat our great enemies, sin, death, and the devil, by His death on the cross, and His resurrection from the dead.  They know it, this multitude.  They know that is why they are there.  So their attention is totally consumed, not with themselves, but with Him.  They are enraptured by Him.  They love Him.  Because He loves them.  Because He loved them and gave Himself for them.

            Now, there is this big long line of them marching in.  You probably know the song.  We won’t sing it during the service, but you can sing it later, and think of this.  But notice, one of the elders… and that is not an angel.  He is one of the people… he knows them.  He can identify them.  “Will I recognize Glen and my mother?”  Yeah, I think so.  I think you can identify them in the lineup, marching in.  But the elder identifies them this way: “These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation” (Rev. 7:14; ESV).  Now, there are any number of opinions, even among confessional Lutherans, as to what the great tribulation is, but for our purposes today, let’s just leave it at this: They are coming out of the sufferings of this life.  The dissonance the Christian experiences living in fallen flesh and in a fallen world.  The attacks of the devil, the world, and our own sinful nature.  Disease.  Death.  Sorrow.  Pain. 

            Glen didn’t talk much to me about his own suffering, but Ellie told me.  And she told me about the tribulations her mother suffered, and it made her cry every time.  And Ellie is a tremendous example of someone who is resilient in the wake of suffering.  But you know, she knew some very dark days in her life, and suffered some terrible things.  You and I only know a little of it.  But God knows all of it.  The Lamb knows all of it.  And so, imagine what a tremendous comfort it was to her, to hear from her Savior in this text, what it will be like, and what it is like for those who are already on the other side of the veil.  They are coming out of all that, the great tribulation.  No more of it.  No more hunger.  No more thirst.  No more striking or scorching heat.  Which is to say, nothing lacking, and nothing to cause pain.  Instead, what?  Shelter under the presence of God Himself, before His throne, day and night.  And the Lamb, shepherding.  Always in the Lamb’s tender care.  Guiding.  Quenching.  And then, consoling.  Not only the Lamb, but the Father, stooping down to wipe away every tear from Glen’s eyes, from Mom’s eyes, from Ellie’s eyes, from your eyes. 

            That’s what it will be like.  That’s what it is like for Ellie right now.  We’ll know them.  Of course we will.  Can they see us now?  I’m not so sure about that.  I think we probably don’t want them always watching us, and there are things they certainly don’t want to see.  And anyway, don't forget, they have a pretty singular focus: The Lamb.  That is not to the exclusion of their love and care for us.  This is actually how we should love and care for each other here and now.  By looking at Jesus, and holding each other before the merciful gaze of Jesus. 

            But if there is anywhere they can see us, it is where we, too, are gathered before the throne of God, and of the Lamb… where He is present, bodily, for and with us.  And, of course, I mean at the Altar, at the Holy Supper, again, with angels, and archangels, and all the company of heaven.  And that means Ellie.  And that means Glen.  And Ellie’s mother.  And all our loved ones who died in Christ, and so live in Him.  And whether or not they can see us there, we are with them there.  Because we are with Jesus.  Every time we gather.  He speaks to us, and then, there He is.  Just as it was with Ellie. 

            And, there is something more, and it is, perhaps, the most important thing to note.  As wonderful as all of this is, this heaven we’ve been describing, it’s not even the best thing.  The best thing is that Christ, who died for our sins on the cross, is risen from the dead.  And He will raise us.  On the Last Day.  When He comes again in glory.  He will raise us bodily, as He is risen bodily.  And you know what that means?  Not only will Glen know Ellie.  He’ll hold her in his arms again.  Bodily arms.  Strong, vibrant arms.  Not only will Ellie’s mother recognize her.  She’ll embrace her in that way only a mother can.  And you will embrace Ellie again.  And though you miss her now, and grieve over her death (and that is good and right, because you love her)… she’s not really gone from you.  Not ultimately.  She lives in Christ.  She lived in Him here.  She died in Him here.  So she lives in Him.  Right now.  And if you live in Him, then even if you die in Him, you’ll just go on living in Him.  And you’ll see what Ellie even now sees.  And He will raise you from the dead.  “I am the resurrection and the life,” says Jesus.  “Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die” (John 11:25-26).  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.