If the first man, Adam, brought sin, chaos, and death into the world and passed it on to all his descendants, then why isn’t the world in complete chaos all the time? Why are their respites of grace, where people show kindness, where deer calmly drink water from the brook, and where cats and dogs can even become friends? It’s because God did not abandon us.
Yet, we cannot deny this truth: We must all face death. We may be able to hide from the taxman, but we cannot escape death. No human ever does. For, since our first parents, death has been a constant in the fallen creation that Adam wrought. Death always claims its victim.
So, yes, death is a cruel master and no one may escape its unforgiving grip. But know this: Death doesn’t have the final word. The lilies of which Jesus speaks prove it, for they testify that God has not abandoned us. Although Adam and Eve had betrayed Him at the dawn of time, God still loved them. Even after their sin, even after their betrayal, He walked to meet them in the garden in the cool of the day.
In the Garden of Eden, God came to Adam and Eve in a pre-incarnate, human form, walking in that newly fallen paradise, calling out to them in love. Even before God gave any formal prophecies, He shielded them from His glory, foreshadowing a time when He would take our form to make right what we had made wrong. God then clothed Adam and Eve with animal skins, showing that death and shed blood was needed to cover sin. Immediately, after our fall into sin, God testified to life being born from the throes of death.
And so consider the lilies of which Jesus speaks. They also have a tale to tell. They are beautiful and delicate in form–something unsuited to a broken, chaotic world. And, yet, there they are–not in paradise, in the Garden of Eden–but in our fallen, sin-infested world. They live alongside the thorns and thistles, which seeks to choke them. Yet, somehow, they survive despite the disease and insects. People trample them, dogs pee on them, and insects eat them for nourishment. Yet, they are still there.
And so the lilies testify that even in the valley of the shadow of death, Satan does not have the last word. God does, for God can bring life out of death–and He does. This is the truth to which the lilies testify–if you have Jesus’ ears and eyes, that is, the ears and eyes of faith.
Consider the places and times where grace can break through the chaos of claw and thorn. The entire world is not Egypt in chaos or Syria writhing from poison gas and chemical attack. There is also beauty, laughter, feast days, and merriment.
Death doesn’t have the final word–God does. God walked in the garden of paradise with Adam and Eve. He even came later, in the form of His Son, Jesus, to walk in another garden. And there again, we betrayed Him once more. In that Garden of Gethsemane, where we came with armed guards and unsheathed swords, Jesus walked. We even had our way with Him outside the city, at the place of death, called the place the skull. Jesus gave Himself over to our evil wishes and let us do Him harm.
Then it was finished, and He was laid to rest. We did our worst to Him. And then in His dying breath, Jesus became like a kernel of wheat, a sleeping lily, in the garden of the dead. He rose on Easter morning, the conqueror over death, undoing what sin had done. Indeed, death doesn’t have the final word–God does.
Death does not rule, not fully, not in the end. Oh, death will have its way with us. We must all pass through its gates. Yet, Jesus has defanged death of its venom, for He has passed through death, living once more. In baptism, God the Holy Spirit has united you to Jesus’ death and resurrection, where you will follow. Where Jesus has gone, you, too, will go.
What does that mean for you? It means that death has died and lost it power. Death can only claim you for a moment, but Jesus lives, even into eternity. In glory, amid the death and chaos of this world, the lilies bloom each spring to testify to that truth.
So then, what do the lilies teach us? In their own quiet way, they teach us not to be anxious. Why? Because Jesus lives, that’s why. Jesus loves you. You are in the storm and tempest of this fallen world. Suffering is part of life on this side of heaven. There’s no escaping it. And yet, there are the lilies; they testify to a reality beyond what we now experience.
The devil tempts you to waste your energy and effort, to compound your sorrow, with worry about what may be here today, only to be gone tomorrow. The devil would have you worry about money. He would turn you to inward thoughts of how you will pay your bills, how you can get what you want, or how you can be successful or even just survive. And if the devil can’t get you to fret over your own yearnings and imagined needs, he will turn you to fear what is beyond your control. Remember the lilies.
The devil will tempt you to fret for your children, your country, or the disaster that looms around the corner. He will try to wear you down, bedeviling your fallen minds, pushing you over the precipice, so the gloom of sadness can suffocate you with the impossibility of it all. Do not be anxious. It is useless. You only hurt yourself and those you love. Remember the lilies.
Jesus lives. He will provide. The lilies do not toil or spin. The birds do not sow, reap, or gather. Your Father takes care of them. Your Father takes care of you. He has always taken care of you. He always will–whether you are good or bad, content or anxious. For God is faithful.
Today has its troubles, of which there is no doubt or debate. Look at your life and the lives of others and you know it to be true. Yet, even amid the darkness of death, Jesus calls you not to be anxious.
Oh, the troubles around you still need your attention. Your neighbor still needs a dose of God’s love. Your mother needs a phone call. Your husband needs an encouraging word. And your dog needs his morning meal. Even your country needs you. Your country needs you as you pray for those in authority, vote in elections, and pay your taxes. But those needs are nothing over which to be anxious. Remember the lilies.
The Lord has brought you here to this time and place. He has made you who you are. He has placed you here to serve Him through serving your neighbor. And you do so despite the troubles of the day. They are enough. You gain nothing by adding to your anxieties, which can eat away at your mind or tie your stomach into knots. You add nothing to your troubles but sorrow. Remember the lilies.
You are whom God has made you to be, where He has placed you, like a lily in a field. As you can, you respond in your place to your community, family, and friends. Yet, don’t be anxious about today’s troubles, whether the president is doing a good job, whether your children are meeting all your dreams, or whether the climate is growing warmer or colder. Do what God has given you to do. Then be at peace. And where you have failed and faltered, ask for forgiveness. The Lord will provide. Remember the lilies.
God has put you here in this place for a purpose, even if you feel unworthy to the task or cannot understand all of what He has called you to do. Focus on today. Rest in the certainty that Jesus lives, that Jesus is providing, and will always provide. The lilies don’t know what they are doing either. They are just being lilies. And that is enough.
Death doesn’t have the final word–God does. The lilies testify to that truth. War, famine, and plague do not. Remember the lilies. They pop up in unexpected places, adorning the world with their beauty, despite crime sprees, negligent governments, bungling bosses, or cheating spouses. They belong to the Lord. He provides for them and cares of them.
Yet, you are worth more far to Him than the lilies of the field. And if the Lord takes care of them, what does that say about you? He will take care of you. Rest in that truth. Let go of your anxiety.
God has sent His Son to die for you. The Lord has claimed you in the waters of holy baptism. He speaks His word of forgiveness through other Christians whom God has placed into your life, or when you go to see the pastor in private confession. He feeds you with His body and blood, bringing you into a divine union with Himself on this side of heaven, reminding you of what awaits you on the other side of death.
Death doesn’t have the final word–God does. After all, Jesus lives. Your Father loves you. He will take care of you as surely as He takes care of the lilies. Yes, remember the lilies.
Out of the oven after being refined by fire, after the violence of reaping and thrashing, after the mixing, kneading, and resting, out of the oven comes bread for the day and food for the eater. The Lord provides. He walked in the garden–in Eden and Gethsemane. He went where He was needed. He looked death in the face and let it do its worst. And from the jaws of death came the eternal victory.
Remember the lilies. Remember what Jesus wants you to learn from their silent and beautiful witness. Death doesn’t have the final word–God does. And it’s yours in Christ Jesus. Amen.
