When The Casket Closes, What Remains?

Text: Luke 18:9-14 

In the name of Jesus. Amen. 

You find out what is really important in life — what you truly cling to — when death is on the line. You also find out what your theology is really made of when you walk through the valley of the shadow of death. 

You see, much of what passes for Christian theology these days—what masquerades as Christian truth—melts like wax before the heat of death.  For example, that prosperity theology that is taught late at night on the religious channels – the ones that are always asking you for money so that you can obtain health, wealth, and happiness?  Well, that kind of theology disappears when the heart monitor flatlines.  And that self-help theology printed those best-selling books in book stores – those books that give religious principles to advance in your career or lose weight?  Well, that too withers when cancer has the final word.  And don’t forget that theology of moral perfectionism – the theology that teaches you that you can climb your way into heaven by doing good works?  It is useless when the doctor enters the room, lowers his eyes, and says, 

“There’s nothing more we can do.”

Dear friends, when death is on the line, sentimental fluff and manmade theology don't hold. That is right, motivational speeches, spiritual pep talks, and self-motivational religion vanish when death comes knocking. In those final moments, when all that this life offers slips through your fingers, you discover if your theology is solid or if it's a thin paper shell.  To the point; when death is on the line, you find out real quickly what you cling to.

* * *

Considering our reading from the Gospel of Luke. The Pharisee had something to cling to. Oh, yes, the Pharisee came to the temple with full hands. If you can recall the Gospel reading, the Pharisee stood proudly and confidently, arms crossed in pious approval of himself. He clung to his resume: fasting, tithing, moral uprightness, and religious pedigree. His mouth praised God, but his heart clung to himself. He came to the temple, not for mercy, but for recognition. His hands held trophies. He didn’t come to receive—he came to flaunt.

And then there was the tax collector! No resume. No fasts. No tithing records. No moral bragging rights. Just sin. Just shame. Just a beating heart and a fist beating his chest while gasping. 

“God, be merciful to me, the sinner.” 

The tax collector’s hands were empty, but his eyes were fixed on the God of mercy. Unlike the Pharisee, the Tax Collector clung to nothing from himself.

So, the question falls in our laps this day: what are you clinging to?

When life matters most — when you stand before God, when you stare down the barrel of death — what are you holding on to?

Let me help flesh out this question and answer by asking you in another way.

What kind of funeral will you have?

You see, there are only two kinds of funerals: Pharisee Funerals and Tax Collector Funerals.

Pharisee Funerals talk about the deceased. About how good they were. How kind. How generous. How hard they worked. They rattle off the resume of the departed as if God were on the fence and needed a little convincing to let them into heaven. Pharisee Funerals are full of sentiment, fluff, and religious self-congratulation. They are pagan at worst and misled at best.

Tax Collector Funerals, on the other hand, talk about Christ. They talk about God's mercy for the sinner. They talk about the forgiveness of sins. They don’t try to place the good works of the deceased into their cold hands in the casket. No, they proclaim that Christ was placed into those hands long ago in Baptism—and He will not let go.

Tax Collector Funerals confess the truth: that no one enters glory clinging to their own goodness.

So, what will your funeral be like?

Dear friends, make no mistake — at death, we are stripped bare. Our hands, whether aged or young, hold nothing. Your degrees, your career, your accolades — none of it makes the trip with you. You don’t get to stuff your righteousness in your pockets before they close the casket.

…Let me drive this point home further.  Just like death, it is the same in life!  Sit up in those pews; open your ears and listen! Whether you’re staring at a declining heart monitor in hospice or sitting comfortably in the pew today, the question is the same: what are you clinging to?  You see, you can’t cling to your self-righteousness in death, and therefore, you cannot cling to it in life either.

You see, the Pharisee was a fool. Yes, a fool. He believed that his spiritual resume made him superior to other sinners. He stood before God with arms full, but full of worthless things—trophies made of dust. He clung to things that couldn’t save him from his sins – things that could not save him before death and before the righteousness of God.

He didn’t understand what the tax collector did: that before God, we are all equally bankrupt. Spiritually empty. Destitute. Not just morally sick—but dead in sin.  …You, me, the world—we are all dead in our trespasses and sins. There is no difference between the living and the dead before God. We bring nothing before God to contribute to our salvation.  Indeed, nothing in our hands we bring. Only sin. Only death. Again, that is true for you and me at death, and it is true for you and me right now in life. 

But dear friends, this is where the glorious Gospel rushes in for you and me.  The glorious Gospel comes and tells you that it is the sinner who is justified, not the self-righteous Pharisee. Let me say that again. It is the sinner — the one who has nothing to offer, nothing to prove, and nothing to show — who goes home justified. 

Why? 

Because the sinner’s justification comes from outside of himself, the sinner clings not to himself, but to the mercy of God.

Please listen: the tax collector went home declared righteous—not because he cleaned himself up, not because he prayed well enough, not because of any inward quality — but because he clung to a righteousness not his own. A righteousness that comes as a gift; the righteousness of Christ.

Baptized Saints, you are with that tax collector today!  You are not justified by the sins that you have avoided or the piety you have acquired. You are justified by the One who justifies the ungodly — Christ Jesus, your Lord.

What that means is this: everything that is of lasting value, everything that truly matters, is a gift.

Your faith — it’s a gift.

Your salvation — a gift.

Your hope, your future resurrection, and your present assurance — gift, gift, gift… all gifts.

Even the good works that you do? Gift!  They were prepared in advance for you to walk in. You don’t generate them. You bear them. 

Here at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, we are a church of beggars. All of us.  Every single one of us stands before the throne to confess that we are poor miserable sinners.  We come to the altar with empty hands. We come to the font with nothing but sin.  And what we receive from the Lord in this church is everything: righteousness, forgiveness, life, salvation—all of it poured out from the font, proclaimed from the pulpit, and placed into your mouths at the altar.

So, with this in mind, tell me, who is better in this place?

The answer: no one.

We are all beggars.  Yet, we are also co-heirs of mercy. Fellow sinners who have been declared saints. All of us cling to the same Christ. All of us are fed from the same hand. All of us are made righteous the same way—as a gift.

And so, together, we rejoice. Not in ourselves, but in what is given. 

* * *

Baptized Saints, you don’t have to pretend.

You don’t have to prop yourself up in front of your neighbors.

You don’t need a funeral that sings your praises. 

You need Christ crucified and raised from the grave for the forgiveness of your sins and the gift of righteousness.  

And dear Baptized Saints – you have Christ today.   

You are saved not by clinging to yourself, but by being clung to by Christ in baptism. And He will not let go of you.

You who beat your chest in repentance, go home justified today – you have Christ. 

You who come with nothing but sin, go home filled with mercy today – you have Christ.

You who are afraid to die, take courage: you are already alive, and the sting of death is gone, for you have Christ.

You who know the burden of sin, know also the peace of forgiveness – for you have Christ.

Baptized Saints, Christ is for you. His righteousness is yours. You are justified because of the blood-stained cross and empty tomb.  

In the name of Jesus. Amen.