Text:  John 20:19-31 (2 Kings 13:21)                                       U Quasimodogeniti (2nd Sunday of Easter)


 

Touch of Death


 

            In the name of him who is the Lord of Life, dear friends in Christ:  The return of spring has by now sent many of us into our yards and gardens – and farm fields – in order to get ready for planting.  And as we do, I’m reminded that there are some people who just seem to have a natural knack for making things grow:  their lawns are the neatest and greenest, their flowerbeds the brightest, and their vegetable gardens the most productive.  I’m sure you know folks like that.  Such people are said to possess a green thumb.  Whatever they touch in the botanical realm always seems to flourish. There are, on the other hand, some people who are exactly the opposite.  Try as they might, nothing ever seems to grow for them.  These are the people who could kill a cactus through neglect and who somehow manage to over water even swamp plants.  They can’t even make crabgrass grow.  Some, it’s rumored, have even killed rock gardens.  Okay, perhaps I’m overstating it a bit; but you know what I mean. When it comes to gardening, some people just have what could only be called the touch of death.  Not that I know anyone like that, mind you … and even if I did, I’d have the good sense not to mention her name.

 

But this sort of deadly touch I’ve been referring to pertains to plants; what I really want to talk about this morning is the touch of death that applies to humans.  Growing out of some medieval traditions and superstitions we have even in our present popular mythology a character known as the Grim Reaper.  He’s usually portrayed as a skeletal, hooded figure with long bony fingers – looks sort of like the Ghost of Christmas Future in Dickens’ Christmas Carol.  He’s always armed with a long handled scythe and can be seen knocking at the door of those about die.  It’s this knocking of death at the door that is the inspiration to the well-known first movement of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony (Bum–bum-bum-buuuum).  Now, that guy really has the touch of death; and though he’s a fictional character, sometimes people speak of him as if he were real.  They’ll say things like, “I felt the icy hand of death on my shoulder” or “Suddenly I could feel the presence of death in the room.”  And I suppose it’s fair to say that this personification of death is thought of as an evil figure, something almost demonic.

 

Biblically however, we discover that death is the prerogative of God.  It’s he who determines the number of our days and who commands us to return to the dust from which we were taken.  So according to the Scriptures, the one who possesses the touch of death is the Lord God himself.  And we see it presented exactly that way in many Bible stories.  A good example that we looked at just recently had to do with the Passover.  For the tenth and final plague by which the Lord delivered his people from bondage in Egypt he tells Moses of an a ominous figure called the “Destroyer” who will pass over the homes of the Israelites that are protected by the mark of lamb’s blood and go throughout all Egypt striking down the firstborn of men and animals. But he also says, “I myself will pass through Egypt” doing this same thing; so it’s clear that this frightful Destroyer is the Lord himself.

 

And far from being evil, what we often see is that it’s the Lord’s perfection and holiness that brings death to those who come into contact with him.  Just for example, when the Israelites arrive at Mt. Sinai to get the law, the Lord said that while his presence rested on the mountain, only Moses could go up on it.  Anyone else who set foot on it – to include the livestock – was to be put to death immediately.  In another story there’s a fellow who touches the Ark of the Covenant.  He was actually trying to prevent it from falling and instinctively reaches out to steady it.  But the Lord strikes him down on the spot, for no one is allowed to touch the Most Holy Ark and live.  And there’s an important message in all of this:  when sinful humans come into direct contact with the holiness of God, it is for them, the touch of death.

 

            But there’s another way that we might speak of the touch of death; and that is when someone touches someone or something that’s dead. Interestingly enough, according to the Law of God given to Moses, touching death in this way rendered a person unclean for ceremonial purposes.  It kind of made you a temporary leper.  So if a member of your family died, you performed whatever cleaning and preparation of the body for burial yourself, for no one else would want to defile himself do it for you.  Then after that, you would be considered unclean and have to pass through several days of quarantine and undergo certain ceremonial washings before you could be readmitted to society and to public worship.  Knowing this, and with the events of Good Friday still fresh on our minds, you can see how remarkable it is that two relatively upper class Jews, Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, take possession of the body of Jesus after his crucifixion and bury it.  In so doing, not only were they identifying themselves as sympathizers with his cause, but they were also ceremonially defiling themselves during one of the high holy festivals of the Jews:  the Feast of Unleavened Bread.  The touch of death disqualified them from participation.

 

            Still another way we might speak of having a touch of death is in the way that it affects all of us.  I mean, if you’re displaying some symptoms that include a mild fever and feelings of nausea, you might say you have a “touch of the flu”.  In that sense, we could also say that we all have a touch of death.  Even while we live, because of the curse of sin, our bodies are subject to fatigue, disease, and the effects of aging.  We’re all infected – and some show it more than others – but even being a little touched by death is kind of like being a little pregnant.  You can be sure of this:  the condition is going to run its course and come to its invariable, final conclusion.

 

            And there is yet one more way we could talk about the touch of death; and that is to be gripped by death’s terror.  Luther wrote of his own feelings before he understood the Gospel when he was convinced that the Lord was angry with him for all of his sins and would surely bring him to endless ages of suffering in hell.  This overwhelming sense of impending doom, he said, was to feel the very touch of death upon the soul.  And I think it’s accurate to say that this is the touch of death that was pressing heavy on the hearts of the disciples of Jesus as they were holed up together behind locked doors on the evening of that first Easter day.  They were scared and confused and were worrying about what was going to happen to them.  Their enemies were all around; and there they were, all cowering together with this sense of looming death in a dark room sealed up like a tomb.  In this sense they surely felt the touch of death.

 

            Now, having said all this, you might get the impression that the touch of death is always a negative thing; but surprisingly enough, it isn’t always that way. There’s a fascinating story in the Old Testament that concerns the prophet Elisha.  You may remember that he was a very bold man of God.  In many ways, his life and ministry prefigured the life and ministry of Jesus.  He too was anointed to bring a message of repentance and forgiveness to God’s people. He too was persecuted for his faithfulness to the Lord, and during his lifetime, he performed many of the same miracles that Jesus did, but on a smaller scale.  For example he performed a mass feeding miracle; but where Jesus feeds 5000 with only five loaves of bread, Elisha feeds 100 people with twenty – and we’re talking about those small pita style loaves, not great big things, so it’s still a pretty amazing feat.  In another episode, Elisha raised to life a child that had died, as Jesus did on more than one occasion.  And there are many other examples.

 

            But Elisha’s last miracle was performed after he had died.  What happened was this:  Elisha had been dead and buried in a cave-like tomb for a number of years. Then one day a small burial party was taking the body of a man who had died to the same cemetery.  While they were out there, this Moabite raiding party appears.  The Moabites were enemies of Israel and would sometimes send armed excursions across the border to take livestock or crops or people to sell as slaves – whatever they could get their hands on.  Well, not wanting to be killed or taken captive, the fellows in the funeral detail quickly slip inside the tomb of Elisha to hide.  And presumably because the space was rather cramped in there, they laid the body of their dearly departed on the bones of the prophet – and suddenly the dead man returned to life.  And so what we have here is a case that kind of goes against the flow.  In this story, the touch of death brings life. Specifically, when someone who was dead touched the death this very Christ-like prophet, he comes to life.

 

            Which brings me back to the locked, tomb-like room in which we find the disciples, their hearts filled the terror of death.  Suddenly Jesus appears in this grave of their fears and bids them peace. In St. Luke’s account of this same appearance, he says that this made the disciples even more afraid because they thought they were seeing a ghost.  But now, here’s the thing not to be missed:  then Jesus showed them the wounds in his hands and side – again, St. Luke tells us that Jesus invited them to touch him.  Then, after this display of wounds and touching of Jesus’ body, again the Lord bids his disciples peace.  It’s at that point that we read that the disciples were overjoyed – the terror of death that had gripped them was suddenly gone.  The point to be made is that what brings life to those touched by death is the touch of the living Lord precisely where his body shows that he was touched by death.  The touch of his death brings life to the dead. 

 

            And just in case we missed it, we have the account of Thomas who was not present for that first appearance of Jesus.  The so-called “doubting” disciple undergoes yet another week with all of his fears and worries living in the hellish shadow of death from which the others had been set free.  The only thing that will release him from this tomb, he says, is to reach out his hand and actually place his fingers in Jesus’ wounds – the marks of his death. It is precisely what he gets.  The Lord, showing infinite mercy and compassion, grants him exactly what he asks for.  “Put your finger here, Thomas … reach out your hand … Stop doubting and believe.”

 

            In response, Thomas makes the startling confession, “My Lord, and my God.”  Listen: they had all called Jesus Lord; but Thomas seems to be the first to truly understand that when touching the body of Jesus, he is in fact touching the Most Holy God of Israel.  Something, you will recall, that would formerly bring death to any sinful human – but not, we see now, when the point of contact is the mark of his death. Why?  Because his death for sin is the end of death.  Touching the death of Christ Jesus takes Thomas’ death away and fills him with faith, hope, joy, and peace.  Gone are the dread of death and the fear of punishment and all of his worries. The tomb is open.  He’s released, resurrected to a new life with his Lord.

 

            Ah, if only we could reach out and touch the death of Jesus like Thomas did. Good news:  we can.  And in fact, we already have.  How? Well, Thomas was privileged both to see and to touch; but in this morning’s reading, Jesus pronounces a special blessing on those who do not see and yet believe.  But you’ll notice he didn’t say anything about touching. That’s because though we are not given to see, the Lord Jesus still allows us to touch his death – he even commands it because it’s precisely that touch that takes our death away.  This is what Holy Baptism is.  Through his Word the Lord Jesus makes himself “touchable” in the water.  And with his touch he grants faith in his death and resurrection for sin to the one who is baptized.  That person recognizes Jesus as both Lord and God, just as Thomas did.  And with this faith comes the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation.  And again, the point of contact in Baptism is specifically Jesus’ death, as St. Paul writes, “Don’t you know that you were baptized into Christ’s death?  We were buried with him through Baptism into death …”  And whereas touching a dead human makes a person unclean, touching the death of Jesus in Baptism washes away sin and makes a person a holy child of God.

 

            And we return to that touch and washing of Jesus in Baptism even now every time we come before the Lord and die the death of repentance, confessing our sins before him.  When we do that, we are presenting to God the death that we know is within us precisely so that he can touch it with the death of Jesus.  That’s what the words of absolution are.  They are the touch of his death on our ears, which by his Spirit reaches into our hearts to give us faith and new life in Christ.

 

            Even more “touchable” than that, is Lord’s coming to us in his Holy Supper. Here, as you kneel at the rail before the Holy God – the frightful Destroyer of sin – you place on your tongue Jesus’ body given into death, and you drink the very blood he shed for you so that by sharing in his death through his touch, the Destroyer’s touch of death passes over you.  And here, as St. Peter writes, “Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”

 

            My friends, it’s a gift we receive by Jesus’ touch of death.  Dying with him each day, may we also be raised with him to new life in the present world and in the world to come.  In his holy name.  Amen.  


 

Soli Deo Gloria!

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