Revelation 7:9-17

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Dear saints, we just confessed, “I believe in the holy Christian Church, the communion of saints.” Now, we believe in the communion of saints, because we don’t fully see the communion of saints—at least not the full picture. We can’t see the full picture of the communion of saints because many of the saints we have fellowship and communion with have passed on and are now with Jesus. Today being All Saints’ Day it’s good to take extra time to consider exactly what we believe about the communion of saints.

First, what is a saint? The common misconception is that saints are the A+, 4.0 students of good works. They have done enough good works to be better than ‘normal’ Christians. It isn’t only Roman Catholics who think this way. If someone does something beyond what we expect, we’ll say that he or she, “is a saint.” But that isn’t what the Bible teaches. The word ‘saint’ does mean ‘holy one,’ or ‘holy person,’ but how is it that a person is holy? Is it by being extra virtuous? If we want to be a holy saint, do we have to work harder and do more good works? No! Everyone needs to be made holy and set apart by God for a particular purpose.

In Scripture, God declares a lot of things to be holy. There are holy days (Ex. 20:8-11; Lev. 16:29-31; Num. 28:16-29:39), holy hills and mountains (Ex. 19:23), holy spoons and forks (Ex. 30:29; Num. 4:15), and even holy ground (Ex. 3:5). Do you think that the holy spoons used in the Tabernacle and Temple did more good works than all the other spoons? Was the holy ground where Moses stood (Ex. 3:5) more virtuous than the rest of the dirt he walked on? No! The holy things were holy because they were set apart by God, mainly for the preaching of His Word to point to His kindness and mercy.

To be a saint is to be a holy person who is set apart by and for God. The Holy Spirit makes us saints by bringing us to faith in Christ so that we can have those white robes and stand around the throne of the Lamb with palm branches in our hands. When the Bible talks about those who have faith in Christ, it most often uses the word ‘saint’—not ‘Christian’ or ‘believer.’ Almost all of Paul’s letters are addressed to the ‘saints’ in a particular city or region. Ephesians 1:1 especially connects the term ‘saint’ to the term ‘believer.’ So, a saint is anyone who is made holy and set apart when the Holy Spirit grants faith to that person.

When we confess that we believe in the communion of saints, we are confessing that we have fellowship with everyone who trusts in Christ for the forgiveness of sins. That includes all the believers in this sanctuary today, and it includes believers in other congregations throughout the world. It also includes our brothers and sisters who used to be here but have now died and are with Jesus. And it includes believers further back than that. Adam and Eve, Abraham, Moses, Rahab, Deborah, Gideon, Samson, Naomi, Ruth, David, Elijah, Isaiah, Peter, John, Paul, and I could go on and on. They, like you, are saints because they are justified and declared to be righteous through faith (Hab. 2:4). You and they are holy, not because you have earned or deserved it, but because the Lord has adopted you into His family (1 Jn. 3:1-3).

So, that’s what a saint is. Now, the question is this: how do we have fellowship and communion with them, especially considering that many of them died thousands of years ago? This beautiful text from Revelation tells us how we have fellowship with them because it gives us a glimpse into the door of heaven. We get to see how it currently is with those believers who have passed from death to life (Jn. 5:24) and how we are joined to them.

John writes about this great multitude that he sees. There are so many no one could count them all. They are from every nation, tribe, people, and language. They stand before the throne and the Lamb with palm branches in their hands. Their robes are white, and they sing, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” (Rev. 7:9-10). The elder tells John who they are, “These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation” (Rev. 7:14). This is a continual, ongoing thing. The picture is that there is a constant, unending stream of believers who are leaving this world of sin, sorrow, trouble, and death to enter the throne room of the Lamb.

They are not angels or spiritual heroes. They are sinners—sinners who have their robes washed white in the blood of the Lamb. Every one of them from Adam to David to John to the people we have buried in recent years—every one of them is there because the blood of the Lamb washed them. They are there because of the same faith the Holy Spirit has given you. That is how we have communion with them.

Our fellowship with them is not based on being able to see or hear them. Our fellowship with them is because we believe in the same Christ. We are washed in the same blood. God has adopted us into the same family. The saints in heaven and you—the saints still fighting here on earth—are one family. We have been joined together by one Lord, one faith, one Baptism (Eph. 4:5). The same Lord who absolved them absolves you. The same faith in God’s Word that delivered them delivers you. The same Baptism that clothed them in Christ clothes you with Christ (Gal. 3:27). The main difference between them and us is that they have come out of the great tribulation, and we are still coming out of it.

As I said at the beginning of the service, All Saints’ Day is about the Resurrection. To be about the Resurrection, All Saints’ Day is also about our mortality and death. Death causes grief for us who are still here. But when we see texts like this one, we might feel guilty about grief because of the glorious existence our fellow saints have when they have come out of the great tribulation. They are before the throne of Jesus. He shelters them with His presence. They have no more hunger or thirst. Jesus shepherds them to springs of water and wipes every tear from their eyes. Jesus perfectly cares for our loved ones who have died in faith, so we might feel selfish and guilty about wishing that they were still here with us in the great tribulation. We feel guilty because they have this blissful existence where they have no more needs. We still love them, miss them, and wish they were still here. But we wonder if that is loving. So, how can we express our love for them when they have no more needs?

Normally, how we love our neighbor is shaped by the needs of our neighbor. For example, the love that parents have for their children takes different shapes at different stages of life. When they are infants, parents love their child by doing absolutely everything for the child—feeding them, changing their diapers, washing them, carrying them everywhere, and putting them to bed. When the child grows up to be a toddler, parents don’t have to carry them everywhere, so the way parents love their children is to start training their children on how to act and behave. And the way parents love their children changes again when they become teenagers and adults. Basically, as a child has fewer and fewer needs, the shape of their parents’ love changes.

Take that idea to how we love those who have come out of the great tribulation. They have no more needs from us. Jesus perfectly provides everything for them. So how do we love them now?

Mourning and grief is the shape that love takes when those we love are gone. It’s not just ok to cry at the death of a loved one. It’s good to cry. Grief isn’t a duty. It is simply what love looks like when the one you love isn’t here anymore. When Jesus was at the tomb of His friend Lazarus, our Lord wept (Jn. 11:35). Stop and consider that. Jesus never sinned, and His tears at Lazarus’ tomb were pleasing to God the Father.

So, we mourn the death of those we love who died in the faith because they are still connected to us. But we do not mourn without hope (1 Thes. 4:13). The God who wipes away every tear from every eye has done it for them, and He will do it for us.

Dear saints, here we believe in the communion of saints. There, our faith will become sight. Here, we take up the armor of God to fight. There, we will wear the crown. Here, the tears may stream down our cheeks. There, we will drink from still waters in sheer delight.

For now, we rejoice. We rejoice in the blest communion, fellowship divine. Even while we feebly struggle, and they in glory shine. Yet all are one in Christ, for we are His. Alleluia! Alleluia! Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Php. 4:7). Amen.