The Greatest Comeback Ever

By Dr. David P. Scaer

A sermon by Rev. David Scaer, originally preached on Holy Saturday, April 18, 1992 at Zion Lutheran Church in Fort Wayne, Indiana.

In Indiana, the phrases “Hoosier Hysteria” and “March Madness” suggest a disease of epidemic proportions, an altered state of mind, a common psychosis. Time here is measured in NCAA championships. This year’s “madness” was Purdue beating Indiana and Indiana almost upsetting Duke. Then there was Kentucky and Duke. With seven seconds left, Kentucky took the ball, went up the center of the court, and scored for what everyone thought was a certain victory. With two seconds left, however, Duke threw the ball halfway down the court. It was caught and shot. The buzzer went off as the ball passed through the net to win the game by one point. For Duke, certain defeat became absolute victory.

Tonight is not a night for the languid, the lethargic, the indifferent, nor for those who don’t care who wins. Tonight is for those who love challenges, who never give up, who never surrender. If we had kept score, God was behind since Genesis. The death cry, the limp body, the funeral cortege, and the tomb proved that Jesus was dead and that the God whom He preached and whom He claimed to represent was a dead god or even no god at all. Since He did not come down from the cross, He was probably the impostor His enemies had claimed He was. Gethsemane, the arrest, the trials, the execution of God’s champion, all made it look as if God had lost again. Champagne bottles were being popped in hell. But theirs was a triumph without a victory. “It isn’t over till it’s over.”

Tonight a wounded but undefeated Jesus steps out of the grave to confound the odds. This is not the unblemished Adam of Eden’s garden, but the tortured Second Adam of the cross. Wounded and scarred by the ravages of His ordeal, He is alive and that’s what counts. Etched out in blood on the majesty and brilliance of His resurrected body is the story of His suffering. His glorified body remains a portrait of His suffering. His pierced hands, side, and feet, the thorn-crowned head and the battered face, the back, scarred with stripes, tell a story that angels and saints will sing forever. The old cliché that it’s not whether you win or lose but how you play the game, is not really true when you are speaking about life and death, heaven and hell, freedom and slavery, God and Satan. This night is for God, who was fully convinced that His servant Jesus would come from behind and defeat His mortal enemy Satan. Jesus’ only weapon was His complete confidence and trust that God would come to His aid.

“You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He is not here. He is risen, as He said.” This is just another way of saying that winning is everything, and in this case Jesus won. “Lo, Judah’s lion wins the strife and reigns o’er death to give us life.” It was a grudge match between light and darkness, heaven and hell, life and death, angels and demons, saints and unbelievers, God and Satan. Like two men in a dark alley, it was a fight to the death.

Jesus went on a search-and-destroy mission. He came into the house of the well-armed man, took his weapons, stripped him of his military paraphernalia, and left the place in a shambles. As Luther said: “It was a strange and dreadful strife when Life and Death contended. The victory remained with Life, the reign of Death was ended.” The one who died didn’t lose after all, but conquered death by His death, so that life could prevail.

Since creation, when God pushed back the primeval forces of darkness with His eternal brilliance, there has never been a night like this. At creation, God was sovereign. On this night, every devil in hell was lined up against Him. But God’s “Michael,” Jesus Christ, prevailed and led the holy angels into hell and released God’s saints and reclaimed a world stolen by Satan. Tonight is the new Genesis Chapter One. God says, “Let there be light,” and the divine hostage is released from the cold tomb. “The death Christ died He died to God. He dies no more. Death no more hath dominion over Him.” The creating light from His tomb with the roar of a tidal wave pushes back the cosmic darkness that groans under the weight of its own evil until it thunders into hell’s murky pits. The custodians of hell and the guardians of the grave are blinded by the brilliant Sun rising from the dark tomb. That light rushed from Christ’s tomb into the graves of God’s saints, unchaining them from death. And they came “into the holy city and appeared to many.”

The cross, which tolled the death of Jesus, trumpeted God’s victory. The shroud, stained with blood, is raised as the Redeemer’s ensign. Tonight the royal banners are fully unfurled. Christ’s blood streams in the firmament for all hell to see. Tonight God shouts into the abyss, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave where is thy victory?” And in deathly silence there comes no echo of response.

There’s no thrill in knowing the outcome of a contest or a game before it even begins. What makes a contest thrilling is seeing losers win and winners lose. The poorest guy in town wins the lottery. The kid at the bottom of the class gets the highest score. The school klutz makes the first string. Outnumbered American colonials turn back British regulars. The polished English soldiers march past the untrained farmers in tattered uniforms, laying down their weapons, while “The World Turned Upside Down” plays in the background. Something like this happened tonight. Certain defeat became absolute victory. The tables were turned on hell. The enemies of Jesus paraded in front of Him, turning in their weapons, and confessing that Jesus is Lord to the glory of that same God the Father whom they once cursed. On this night, “the world [was] turned upside down.” The winners lost and the losers won. Tonight the pages are turned back to Genesis Chapter Three. The fall into sin is wiped from the divine record.

This was not a contest between divine omnipotence and diabolical power. That would have been no contest at all, and Satan would have forever accused God of divine foul play, hurling loud insults from hell. This was a battle between Christ in the weakness of our humanity and the full force of all the devils in hell. Christ won this game, coming from behind. He fought, not with divine omnipotence, but by trusting in God the way that our first parents did not.

We can leave all the traditions of Easter for tomor- row: devouring chocolate Easter bunnies; wearing something special to church; the 8 a.m. Easter breakfast; dinner with friends and relatives; the $8.95 Easter brunch at the Airport Hilton. We can even think religious thoughts. In our hearts and at the altar, we can commemorate those who have died in Christ and who now live with Him. There is that hopeful nostalgia on Easter, even for us who are aware of our own physical deterioration.

Into our common physical degeneration, Easter proclaims that we will live forever and that this life will be with Jesus and His Father and that same Holy Spirit given us in baptism. The commemoration of our baptism tonight is our participation in Christ’s death and resurrection and a dress rehearsal for that day when He will call us out of our tombs. The primeval disorder, which threatened to devour us, has been tamed by the Spirit of God who moved across the face of the dark waters in order to turn them into the living waters of baptism. Tonight we are not at the entrance of our tombs. Ash Wednesday is behind us. Tonight we are standing at the exit. Our baptism was the first step in our resurrection. With Christ we are passing out of death into life. Even the oldest are born like babes. Tonight, Christianity is given a rational and historical foundation. We have been dealt a trump card. Among all the religions, only Christianity can claim that its founder came back from the dead. But tonight is not for our customs or traditions, our faith, or even for our rational confidence. Tonight belongs to God. He has settled the score once and for all.

With the charges against us nailed to the cross and marked “Paid,” Satan, the ancient dragon, the deceptive serpent, has been gagged. Tonight, light and darkness clashed with a thunder that no summer night has ever known. The plates of the earth shifted against each other in endless earthquakes so that the lids of our graves could be pulled from their hinges. Jesus has gone into our prison to release the hostages. “Do you renounce Satan?” “Yes, we do!” “[Then] depart you unclean spirit and make room for God’s Holy Spirit.” Jesus has reclaimed the world for God and has disposed of the devil, who had enthroned himself as our governor.

Even though it’s April, this night is a “March Madness” of cosmic proportions. God has gone into hell and cut down the nets. The Rose Bowl has been won and the goal posts torn down. The rafters of heaven are shaking and the ceiling is resounding with angelic roars. The foundations of hell are cracking. The troops storming out of the gates of hell have been ambushed. The enemy is everywhere in retreat. Christ has pillaged hell. Satan is bound. Death is conquered. The temple curtain is torn from the top to the bottom. The saints are streaming out of their graves into the Holy City, the New Jerusalem. The gates of Paradise are unlocked. Noah’s ark has survived the flood and takes us up to Ararat. Pharaoh and his host have been drowned in the sea and his chariots mired in mud. The Passover Lamb has been slain, raised from the dead, and eaten by the conquering troops. God stands in front of Israel and leads her through the Red Sea’s water. Jordan is backed up like a heap. Canaan is within our grasp. Jerusalem is in view. The temple, destroyed by God’s enemies from the day the world began, has been raised on the third day. Tonight is God’s night. His fortunes have been reversed. His enemy is placed in chains. It is a night of divine madness, a heavenly hysteria, a magnificent foolishness that could only have been contrived by God.

Dr. David Scaer is the chairman of the department of systematic theology at Concordia Theological Seminary in Fort Wayne, Indiana.

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