Jubilate - The Fourth Sunday of Easter (Easter 4)

(Audio)

John 16:16-22; 1 Peter 2:11-20; Isaiah 40:25-31

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.

You have to wait for a lot of things in life. Throughout your working years, you faithfully make contributions to your 401k or IRA, watching it slowly rise and, sometimes, radically fall, all in the hope that, over time, it will increase to a sufficient amount to carry you through your retirement. And when you were younger, it probably seemed like you were always waiting for the next milestone. At sixteen, you could drive. At eighteen, you graduated, could vote, and could be drafted. At twenty-one, or maybe nineteen, you could legally enjoy a beer. And then, at twenty-five, well… perhaps you stopped counting. And if you have young children or grandchildren, you know just how hard it is for them to wait. They wait for that promised bowl of ice cream, for you to read them their favorite book, for their birthday party or Christmas, or for that long-anticipated trip to Disney World. To them, it feels as though what has been promised will never come. It is hard to wait. It is hard to wait patiently, in faith and in hope, trusting that what has been promised will actually be delivered.

That is precisely where the disciples find themselves in the Gospel. On the night before His death, our Lord Jesus said to them, “A little while, and you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me.” He was speaking of His death, and of the suffering they were about to witness: His betrayal, arrest, unjust trial, mocking, scourging, crucifixion, death, and burial. And He knew they did not yet understand. So He speaks to them as one comforts a child: “A little while….”

That phrase is meant to comfort. It promises that the time of sorrow, though real, is limited. It has an end. There is a definite “after.” But the disciples don’t understand, and so Jesus gives them an image: a woman in labor. In the midst of childbirth, the pain can feel overwhelming, even endless. But when the child is born, the anguish gives way to joy, so much so that the suffering fades in comparison. “So also you have sorrow now,” Jesus says, “but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”

And that is exactly what happened. That Thursday night, that dreadful Friday, and that silent Sabbath, there was weeping and lamenting, fear and confusion. But then came Sunday. The risen Christ stood among them, still bearing the marks of the cross, and they were glad when they saw the Lord. Yet even that was not the end of their waiting. For forty days, Jesus walked and talked and ate with them. Then He ascended, bodily, into heaven. And in that moment, His words took on yet another meaning: “A little while, and you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me.” Because now the Church lives in that “little while.”

And let’s be honest, it doesn’t feel very little. It has been nearly two thousand years. In this time, the faithful have known sorrow and suffering. The world rejoices while the Church laments. The faith is mocked. What is good is called evil, and what is evil is called good. And so it is not unreasonable to wonder whether our Lord has a different definition of “a little while” than we do.

But the issue is not confusion on His part. The issue is perspective. The Scriptures teach us that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. That is not a formula for calculation. It is a way of saying that God does not experience time as you do. He is not bound by it. He sees all things, past, present, and future, at once. Luther illustrated this with the image of a great tree. When it stands upright, you can only see part of it at a time, the base, or the middle, or the top. But if it lies on the ground, you can see the whole thing at once. So it is with God and time. What you experience moment by moment, He sees in its entirety. This is what it means that He is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. From His eternal perspective, your salvation is not uncertain. It is already accomplished in Christ. Your resurrection is not a possibility, it is a certainty. Your seeing Jesus again is not merely hoped for; it is, in His sight, already done. That is why Jesus can say, “A little while.”

But this does not mean you are given to calculate the timing. Our Lord Himself says that no one knows the day or the hour, not even the angels in heaven. And history is filled with those who have tried anyway, predicting dates and leading many astray. That is not faith. That is presumption. Instead, you are given something far better than a timeline. You are given a promise. And you are given a calling for this “little while.” St. Peter exhorts you to live as sojourners and exiles. This world is not your home. Abstain from the passions that wage war against your soul. Keep your conduct honorable. Submit to lawful authority, not because it is always just, but because the Lord works through it. Live as people who are free, yet do not use your freedom as a cover for evil. Honor everyone. Love your fellow Christians. Serve faithfully, even under difficult circumstances.

In other words, live as those who are waiting, but not idly. Waiting in faith. Waiting in hope. Waiting in the confidence that the promise will be fulfilled. Because the One who made the promise is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not grow weary. His understanding is unsearchable. He gives strength to the faint and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and fall. But those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength.

That does not mean the waiting is easy. It does not mean the sorrow is light when you are in it. Time moves slowly when you suffer. But the apostle Paul reminds you that this “light momentary affliction” is preparing for you an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison. That is the perspective of faith. That is what allows you to endure the “little while.”

And more than that, the Lord has not left you empty-handed as you wait. He gives you a foretaste of what is to come. In His Word, He speaks His promises into your ears. In His Sacraments, He places into your hands and mouths the very gifts won for you by Christ, His forgiveness, His life, His salvation. These are not reminders only. They are present realities, anchors for your faith in the midst of waiting.

So yes, you must wait in this life. You wait through sorrow. You wait through trial. You wait through a world that does not understand. But you do not wait alone. And you do not wait without certainty. For in a little while, you will see Him. And your hearts will rejoice. And no one will take your joy from you.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.