Health is important. Wealth is desirable. So is love. People want these things. But most of all, people want to be happy.

A healthy, wealthy, loved person who is not also happy will not appreciate or much enjoy the otherwise good things in life. To say he should will not change how he feels.

His disappointment with life will increase if he had been counting on these external things to bring happiness. How many have thought, “If only I was rich, I would have no problems”?

But, of course, wealth does not mean a person will not get sick or be unloved or have other problems. To have what others desire but cannot have—and still find no happiness—is depressing. Statistics show that, including the suicide statistics.

The writer of the book Ecclesiastes is an example. He had it all, surely more than most. But there was a time in his life when he was not at all happy. In those days, he labeled everything in his life as worthless: “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless!”

His response to that healthy, wealthy, unhappy life? “So I hated life…”

So sad.

We would ask King Solomon, “Why were you not happy?”

He may have answered: “I was miserable because I was trying to live without God instead of living for God.”

He learned that without God in his life, life is meaningless.

In time, he came to realize that God wants to bring meaning into lives. He went on to write of God: “He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men…”

Though the Mighty God has been rejected, or replaced, or ignored, he has not turned away from mankind in disgust.

He has kept on showering his blessings upon people to give them a taste of happiness.

The apostle Paul once told a crowd to turn from their worthless ways to the living God. He explained: “He has shown kindness by giving you rain from heaven and crops in their seasons; he provides you with plenty of food and fills your hearts with joy” (Acts 14:17).

So, to an extent, it is true: wealth and good times can bring happiness. But not for long. Not forever.

They are undeserved gifts from God. They are evidence of his existence and proof of his love.

Yet, so often, they are sought out as if they were of our own making or deserving. They are grabbed without a thank-you and used without a conscience. They are treated as if this is what life is all about.

So sad.

We humans are so short-sighted. We are dazzled by what glitters and impressed by what excites our senses. We are willing to settle for feeling good for a little while—all the while we are dying.

We don’t see, or don’t care, that our Creator sacrificed his Son for us. We avert our eyes from the warning scene of awaiting dungeons of darkness. We block his calls.

Until.

Until, in his mercy, he opens our eyes to see our desperate need and opens our hearts to accept his love. Until we realize that our sin is forgiven, and all is well. Until we know that our future is bought and paid for by the one called Jesus.

Then, we can be happy.

Except in reference to a football team that bears the name, most of us don’t talk much about saints anymore. There was a time when most Christians did.

During those years, people thought that a saint was a person who had lived such a holy life they could go to heaven immediately upon death. This was supposed to be a rare event because it was also thought that a person earned heaven by holy living—and most people failed at that.

Sadly, it was thought that after death, even believing Christians would need to spend time in a hellish place called purgatory in order to pay for sins their good works did not cover.

It was taught that the time in purgatory could be shortened by using the leftover good works that a saint had piled up. It was even said that one could buy those good works by giving money to the church.

But the most common way was to offer prayer and worship to the departed saint. Each day of the year was named for one of them. Prayers to the saint on its special day earned extra credit.

However, on November 1, the credit was multiplied since it was a day on which it was claimed that all saints offered spiritual credits. Thus, on that day, All Saints Day, the churches were filled. It was better than a modern Black Friday sale.

Through the Lutheran Reformation, the true meaning of sainthood was restored. Salvation is gained not by doing good (we never could do enough of it), but by the holiness of Christ that is offered through faith in him.

According to the Bible, every person who believes that Jesus died for his sins is a saint. In the eyes of God, that person’s sin has been replaced by the holiness of the Son of God. Jesus carried sin to the cross, where he paid for it with his suffering and death.

That’s why we call the holy Christian Church “the communion of saints.”

This is the good news of the gospel. Salvation is free to us because it has been already paid for with holy blood.

We are still to strive for holy living. Not to make up for sin, but as a reflection of the holy God who now calls us his own. Children of the heavenly Father should be able to be recognized as belonging to him.

Their lives should reflect their standing as saints.

While on earth, that reflection may be cloudy. But not when they cross over to heaven.

Death has separated those who died in the faith from the sin that had plagued them on earth. Released from earthly ties, their souls have hurried to a place reserved for them in their Father’s house–the place Jesus said he was going to prepare for them.

There is no purgatory. Every departed believer is in heaven. They are no longer tempted to sin. No longer do they face failure or fear.

Never will they lose their place in glory.

We are told: “But the saints of the Most High will receive the kingdom and will possess it forever—yes, for ever and ever.”

Yes! Forever and ever.

Good to remember that! Their victory celebration inspires us. In song, it has been written: “And when the fight is fierce, the warfare long, steals on the ear the distant triumph song.”

The song of triumph is for us—for all the saints.

The Christian dwells in the sunlight of God’s grace—and sometimes in its shadows. But not in the night nor in the darkness.

There is a difference between the kingdom of light and the kingdom of darkness. One is ruled by the holy God. The other is the abode of demons. That one gushes forth evil. There is nothing good in it.

Why should those who call the Holy One their Father have anything to do with that? Why should those who serve the Light of the world further the cause of darkness?

They should not.

But there are other questions: “Why can’t the Christian always walk in that sunshine? If he is the beloved of the Father, why do any dark days dawn in his life? Should he not be a child of privilege? If his Father is all-powerful, why is not every problem solved for him in advance with power from on high?

Why should he ever see failure? Why dangers? Why not only joy and peace?”

His Father tells him why. The child of God may not be of this world, but he certainly is in it. Since sin has infected his life, its malignancy shows itself.

It appears as a shadow.

We know how it works when doctors find the shadow of a cancer. Machines may peer through our skin, and even into our bone, but never do we want their test to come back positive.

We dread the news that there is something deadly within us. We are tempted to skip the test or ignore the result. We might decide, “Ignorance is bliss!”

But of course, it isn’t. It’s dangerous. Denial does not remove the danger.

Detection is the first step toward cure.

It’s the same with sin. The Great Physician has examined us and detected, not just a speck, but a growing mass of evil inside of us. He tells us, “Unless removed, there is no hope.”

We learn, only the Lord of life can do this. He smothers it with his blood. It dies. We live.

We live in sunshine and shadows. Some days are bright with hope and joy. On other days, the shadows lengthen.

King David knew this. He wrote about walking through “the valley of the shadow of death.” We know what he meant. Death casts a big shadow.

But for the child of God, it is only a shadow. We can walk right through it.

Death cannot hold us.

The shadows we see are blessings. They lead us to call out with David, “Our help is in the name of the Lord” (Psalm 124:8).

Scripture bids us to be, “Joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the kingdom of light. For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins” (Colossians 1:12-14).

Let the shadows come! They will make us enjoy the sunshine even more.

Fear has many causes and takes different forms. Most times, fear’s message is a stern warning: “Danger! Beware!”

A coiled snake, a nearby explosion, or the cry, “Enemy inside the wire!”—these activate the alarms to fight, flee, or freeze.

These fears cause dread.

There is another fear, one that speaks in a gentle tone. It says, “Be quiet. Show respect.”

We call this fear reverence.

Reverence is no longer common among us. “I could care less!” “I will make my voice heard!” Those are the more common reactions from within a challenged crowd. Defiance is the more common attitude.

There are welcome exceptions. We might see it among the crowd at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. It surely is expressed by the guard standing watch.

Showing reverence is a way to show honor. Instead of defiance, it shows deference. It says, “I am in the presence of something more important than me.”

Humans may request that reverence be shown at times. God demands it always.

The First Commandment requires that we fear, love, and trust in God above all things. The type of fear that lives alongside of love and trust is reverence.

Scripture calls out, “But the Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth be silent before him” (Habakkuk 2:20). The holy God demands respect and honor: “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth” (Psalm 46:10).

He expects obedience: “Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world held accountable to God” (Romans 3:19).

He demands submission: “‘As surely as I live, says the Lord, ‘every knee will bow before me; every tongue will acknowledge God’” (Romans 14:11).

He is almighty. He is holy. He holds us accountable. But we know we cannot measure up to his expectations. We know we have no excuse for our failures.

It’s enough to put the fear of God into us.

It should. Unless we fear God there is no hope for us. But the fear need not take the form of dread. Dread can change to reverence.

The Lord of life and death wants that change. He invites it. He enables it.

He paid for that change.

He paid with the lifeblood of his Son.

We bow our heads before the vision of Jesus crucified. We are lost in the wonder of the One who loved us so much that he would take our place on the guilty seat. We would join in the chorus, “Glory, laud, and honor to thee, Redeemer, King.”

We call out to him, “But with you there is forgiveness; therefore you are feared.”

We are not ashamed of him. We confess: “No; when I blush, be this my shame; that I no more revere his name.”

The law teaches us dread. The gospel teaches us reverence.

We are the people of reverence.

Sometimes, even the most brave and most bold become the most timid. It can happen quickly. It might happen when asked to speak in front of a crowd. It may happen before a high-ranking officer.

For many Christians, it could be when we suddenly have a chance to share the gospel with an unchurched friend.

That’s the spirit of timidity.

It lives inside of us. It’s a cousin to fear. It’s the child of doubt. In matters spiritual, it is the enemy of faith.

Sometimes, it takes special power to do the right thing and special courage to say the right thing. At such times, it requires a special gift from God.

For young man Timothy, this was one of those times.

If we find ourselves being timid about showing our faith in a land with freedom of religion, if we shy away from saying the right thing because we fear we may be laughed at, imagine how Timothy felt when he knew he could be imprisoned for being a Christian.

Yet, fear of jail wasn’t the biggest threat. Instead, Saint Paul warns him against another. Its name was “Shame.”

“So do not be ashamed to testify about our Lord, or ashamed of me his prisoner” (v.8).

Wasn’t it shameful to be arrested and imprisoned? Not in this case.

The apostle explains that he was appointed by God to share the gospel—and that had consequences. “That is why I am suffering as I am.”

If he had kept quiet about Jesus, he would not be in prison.

“Yet I am not ashamed, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day” (v.12).

What did he entrust to Jesus? His life? His faith? His soul?

Yes.

In return, he received a gift. He described the spirit that God gives to his people: “…a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.”

Power instead of timidity—that we might expect. Love listed as a replacement for timidity may also not surprise us. But self-discipline? How does self-discipline push aside timidity?

Then we remember. When we lose control of our faith-life, even the bold and brave can become timid.

Discipline gives us that kick in the pants to remind us of who we are, how we should act—and how we should feel.

How about, “God’s own child, I gladly say it! I was baptized into Christ!” (from CWS 737:1)? What about, “If God be for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31)

Not embarrassed to reveal faith in the Son of God, my Savior. Not ashamed that he was executed as a criminal.

Never ashamed of Jesus! Not afraid to live for him.

Not timid.

I have a sister I have never met. The only sign that she ever was alive is an 8 x 8 metal plate on the ground near my parents’ headstone. It carries the name “Carol.”

My sister was born with a hole in her spine. Back in the ‘30s, nothing could be done to save her. She lay in her crib for a month in my parents’ bedroom. She spent much of that time, my mother said, whimpering.

My mother spent the time watching her, feeding her, praying for her—and crying.

A mother’s love is unlike any other. Just ask Jesus. He knows.

He ran into such love when he wandered near the edge of Israel’s border. The mother was a Canaanite. The land Israel now occupied had belonged to her people.

The Canaanites forfeited their land by their ungodly living. But not all were driven out. This woman was descended from them. She was not one of God’s chosen people. She was labeled a Gentile. That was the same as being called a heathen in those days.

It must have been shocking for the disciples to see this Gentile woman approaching Jesus directly. It must have surprised them to hear her cry out, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Amazing! This Canaanite knew that Jesus was the promised Messiah. This foreigner believed that Jesus had power over demons.

Wasn’t this a sign of faith? Should she not have been welcomed as a believer? The disciples thought not: “Send her away, for she keeps crying out after us.” How could they be so cold-hearted?

How could Jesus seemingly be so uncaring? He had heard her cry for help. Yet, we are told: “Jesus did not answer a word.”

Seemingly worse: when she dropped to her knees begging, “Lord, help me!” we are told he said: “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs” (Matthew 15:26).

Wasn’t he, in effect, telling her to, “Be quiet, and go away!”?

Not at all. He knew what was in her heart. He gave her a chance to reveal that even Gentiles could have strong saving faith. She showed it with these words: “Yes, Lord, but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table” (Matthew 15:27).

To this, Jesus said: “Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.” Then Matthew reports, “And her daughter was healed from that very hour.”

The Gentile mother’s cry for help was heard and answered. The plea came from a heart of faith. The daughter was healed.

My mother was also a Gentile. I expect her prayer was just as passionate. It also came from a heart of faith.

It seems Jesus answered her not a word.

But my mother was heard. Her prayers were answered. My sister was not healed. She was delivered.

Her soul was lifted up from that little crib to be carried gently to her new home. No more hole in the spine. No more whimpering.

And now, my mother no longer weeps for her. The two of them share the joys of heaven.

For her beloved daughter’s funeral, my mom chose the hymn, “Jesus, Lover of my Soul.” It was her cry for help to endure the grief. It is a song of faith. It is based upon a rock-solid truth.

Jesus is the Lover of souls.

Yours. And mine. And my sister’s.

The sister I wait to meet.

The follower of Jesus is always at war. He remains in the Church Militant until he enters the Church Triumphant. There is no Church Pacifist. Those who do not fight are dead.

Some folks question that by pointing to the words of Jesus: “But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also” (Matthew 5:39).

And yet, Jesus overturned tables and drove the money changers out of the temple—twice. One time, with a whip!

A slap on the cheek is an insult, not a threat to life. Turning the other cheek can defuse a situation. If an actual threat arises, the government does not hold the sword in vain, nor should an individual hesitate to keep the Fifth Commandment by defending himself or others.

But the Christian’s biggest threat does not come from a terrorist or robber, as dangerous as those might be. The most they can take is our earthly life. We will eventually give that up anyway.

The deadliest threat comes from enemies who would rob us of the peace with God. To such, we dare never turn the other cheek. Never declare a truce. Their goal is to kill our faith and one day join with them in the forever-dark pits of hell.

Of such, we need to be afraid. Against such, we must fight. Yet, before such, we are helpless.

But the Lord our God is not! Using his power, we can be strong. Using his protection, we can resist them. We can defeat them!

“Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power” is the command. “Onward Christian Soldiers, marching as to war.” is the song.

The enemy uses deception. That makes them more deadly. In the Battle of the Bulge, some English-speaking German SS troops put on American uniforms and began directing traffic—in the wrong direction. At times, they suddenly opened fire on unsuspecting troops.

The G.I.s had to start testing others by asking questions to which only Americans would know the answers: “Who won the last World Series?” Another was, “What is the capital of Illinois?” When U.S. General Bradley answered, “Springfield” a young soldier detained him. The soldier thought the answer should be “Chicago.” He was quickly straightened out.

Even so must we know well the facts of the kingdom of Light lest we be misled by the forces of darkness. Lest we mislead ourselves. The Bible provides the details of how our salvation was won and how it must be kept. It gives the names of our leaders and lists the heroes of old.

It identifies our Commander. It relays his commands. It carries his encouragement.

We are not alone in this fight. But we must be in this fight. The battle for our salvation has been won. The battle for our soul rages on.

Why would we throw away the victory and join the defeated?

We won’t.

Perhaps it’s surprising to hear Satan quoting the Bible from memory. Maybe it would not surprise us to learn that he does so with evil intent.

To Jesus, he quoted from Psalm 91. He did not add to the verse. He did not subtract from it. He did, however, misapply it.

These are the divine words of assurance to which he pointed Jesus: “He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone’’ (vs. 11,12).

The promise is dramatic. It might even surprise us to learn it could apply to us. Do angels really keep God’s loved ones from tripping over stones? Difficult to believe? Not for Jesus. He knew how carefully God watches over his own.

Jesus trusted this promise. Satan hoped to use that trust as a trap. When standing with Jesus on the highest point of the temple, he challenged: “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down.”

He wanted to turn the trust into a test. He tried to twist words of God into a meaning never intended.

He tries the same with us.

He suggests that it is silly to take God’s words at face value. He aims to create a level of doubt that leads to further confusion. If the Christian decides it is foolish to believe in guardian angels, Satan wins—and trust in God is damaged, if not broken.

If the Christian decides, “This means I can throw caution away and walk upright into this firefight because angels must protect me.” Satan wins again. God is now being tested.

That leads to further questions: “Is the fact that I am afraid, a sign that I do not trust God?”

We must ask, “Is caution a sign of cowardice?” Aren’t we to protect the life our Lord gave us?

“But Isn’t it true that angels will lift me up to keep me from even tripping over a stone?”

It is. It most certainly is.

But not every time. Sometimes they let me fall flat on my face. Sometimes I pay for my carelessness.

My faith will not stop a bullet. Disease will not bounce off of me. Prayer will not prevent disaster.

Unless! Unless that is the will of my heavenly Father.

“Then, what good is my faith if it will not accomplish what I want?”

The problem isn’t with my faith. The problem lies with what I want.

If I always would want only what is best for me, what my Savior God wants, my success rate in life will be 100%. For instance, if I want his blood to cover my sin, it has already happened.

If I go into the Bible to pick out only those phrases that match my wishes, I will turn his Word into my words. I will change the meaning. I will misapply the message.

Jesus was indeed watched over by angels. He was always protected. He trusted his Father about this. His trust did not falter when he was led into a barren wilderness to go without food for 40 days. His trust did not falter when his home congregation threatened to throw him over a cliff. Or when he was arrested. Or when he was tortured. Or when he was killed.

He trusted his Father to carry him through every danger, even death.

Jesus promptly corrected Satan’s misapplication by showing Scripture must be interpreted with Scripture.

Guarded by angels? Yes! But, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’’

We won’t do that. We will trust him—not test him.

Won’t we?

“I’ll wipe them out—all but Moses!” That was the conclusion the Lord God came to as he looked in at the sickening sight of Israel bowing down to gods of gold. He burned with anger. While they danced in frenzied idol worship, those people had no idea of how close they were to being wiped off of the face of the earth and plunged into the pits of hell.

Scripture warns, “It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (Hebrews 10:31). Sodom and Gomorrah found this to be horribly true. So did the people of Noah’s day. But none of them had received the same degree of loving care as did these people. The Israelites had been slaves. Their boy babies had been sentenced to death. Their backs had been laid open by the whips of the Egyptian slave drivers. But they were rescued.

Did they not remember? Had they already forgotten the passing of the angel of death over non-Jewish Egypt? What about the miracle at the Red Sea? Didn’t they see the smoke and fire on Mount Sinai? Didn’t they hear the voice of God roaring from the mountaintop? Did they not know who God was, and what he was like?

How then, could they think gods of gold could be a substitute for him?

Satan made it easy for them. He convinced them they had no choice. Moses had gone up into the mountain covered with clouds, smoke, and fire—and he did not come back. They panicked. They thought they were caught without protection. They told Aaron, “Come, make us gods who will go before us. As for this fellow Moses who brought us up out of Egypt, we don’t know what has happened to him” (Exodus 32:1).

What should he do? Aaron improvised: “Take off the gold earrings that your wives, your sons and your daughters are wearing, and bring them to me” (Exodus 32:2).

Now, he had the makings of a golden calf. He had seen such things in Egypt. He would give the people something they could see—something concrete they could worship. “These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt.”

He improvised. He adapted. But he surely did not overcome.

He and the rest of Israel would learn that when it comes to God, the rule is: “Improvise not!”

God’s response was swift. To Moses, he said, “I have seen these people, and they are a stiff-necked people. Now leave me alone so that my anger may burn against them and that I may destroy them. Then I will make you into a great nation” (Exodus 32:9,10).

There was no excuse for these people. No way to escape. Their only hope was mercy.

Moses begged for that mercy. Mercy was granted, but it came with a lesson. The golden calf was ground into a powder which the people were forced to drink with water. Then we hear, “And the LORD struck the people with a plague because of what they did with the calf Aaron had made” (Exodus 32:35).

We have become familiar with the lesson of plagues. We, too, have begun to learn that God is not to be trifled with.

Of course, God is not made of gold! Yet, we can say he has a heart of gold. He remembered the promise to make the descendants of Abraham into a great nation. He remembered his promise to send a Savior through these people.

He spared that nation. He did not abandon those people. The Savior came.

Our Savior came. He has not abandoned us. He keeps his promises. We are safe for all eternity.

God’s Word is as good as gold!

Those who expect the Word of God to contain only pious phrases and stories are shocked to discover that it opens doors to reveal what is beyond human comprehension. It challenges the reader to admit there is much that he needs to learn.

Foolish is the person not willing to learn from his Creator and Lord. Our Bible passage gives us a chance to consider something that transcends the boundaries of human science. Here we learn that at one time in history, the sun stood still—and so did the moon.

Five Amorite kings had banded together to stop the Israelites from their conquest of the Promised Land. Following an all-night march, the Israelite army surprised the Amorites and began to push them back. The Lord stepped in with large hailstones that pounded the enemy.

When Joshua saw that survivors could escape when night fell, he called for God to take unprecedented action: “Stop the sun in its path so that we can finish the battle!” The Bible reports: “The sun stopped in the middle of the sky and delayed going down about a full day. There has never been a day like it before or since, a day when the Lord listened to a man” (Joshua 10:13,14). The sun and moon waited for God’s people to gain the victory.

How could this happen? Did the earth stop its rotation? Were the sun and moon moved into outer space to keep up with the rotation of the earth? As citizens of the 21st century, how do we explain this?

The same way that the believers of the Old Testament did. The prophet Habakkuk declares: “LORD, I have heard of your fame; I stand in awe of your deeds, LORD. Sun and moon stood still in the heavens at the glint of your flying arrows, at the lightning of your flashing spear. In wrath you strode through the earth and in anger you threshed the nations” (Habakkuk 3:2,11,12).

This was the work of God. It shows his power over all things and protection for his people. With God, nothing is impossible!

We hear the citizens of heaven declare the same truth: “Great and awe-inspiring are your works, Lord God, the Almighty” (Revelation 15:3).

“Almighty” is a big word. We cannot yet comprehend its full meaning. That should not surprise us. We do not even grasp the power of the hydrogen bomb. How can we wrap our minds around a power that is absolutely unlimited? The more we think about it, the more questions we have.

We can only stand in awe of the almighty God. We do so with respect and appreciation. It astounds us that he would use his power on behalf of those who love and trust him.

The Bible contains the many accounts of divine intervention to rescue his people. The greatest example is when he overcame the powers of hell and destroyed the powers of sin and death. The death and resurrection of Jesus are awesome!

We have an awesome God. Wind and waves obey him. So do the stars. So must everything. We can have confidence in him. He can handle every one of our problems.

We think of the saying, “If God be for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31).

If ever we begin to doubt it, we merely need to remember Joshua—and the day that the sun and moon waited.

A WWII veteran once remarked: “In war, life is cheap!” He had survived for weeks on the beaches of Anzio without a scratch. All of a sudden, pain erupted in his stomach. It was not an enemy shell. It was a ruptured appendix. Medics hauled him off for treatment. As he watched the mangled wounded come in, he came to realize that he was being overlooked. “I didn’t count!” he said. “I was sick, not wounded. But I knew that unless someone noticed my condition, I was going to die.”

One does not need to be neglected on a battlefield to feel that he doesn’t count for much. Bad enough if superiors act toward him in this way. Worse, if friends and family begin treating a person like this. Absolutely the worst if a person concludes that not even God notices.

A major famine was heading for Canaan in Jacob’s day. Money would do no good if there was no food to buy. So, God provided for Jacob and his family by allowing Joseph to be sold into slavery in Egypt. Years later, he could welcome his father and brothers by offering abundant food and rich pastureland.

News reports of the day would not have taken note of this one refugee family while countless others in Canaan were on the brink of starvation and death. But God noticed. He was counting these people—because they counted to him. Their number was 70!

Four hundred thirty years later, he counted them again. The time had come for his people to return to Canaan. By now, they could field an army of 603,550 (Numbers 1:46). Adding women, children, and others not able to wage war, the number was easily 2.5 million. He had not forgotten his people or the promises he had made to them. He had watched over them.

Their lives mattered.

If the Lord knows the number of the stars and calls them by name, if he notices when a bird falls from the sky, and if he has counted the hairs on our head, then we should not be surprised to learn that he kept count of the people from whom the Savior was going to come. Or, that he is keeping careful watch over us—counting our sorrows, counting our fears, counting our blessings—counting everything but our sins. For those he has removed from us as far as the east is from the west. His Son took them all away.

It matters little if we are far from home or if we are able to go home to our family every night. It makes no difference if we are sick or well, in safety or danger, awake or asleep. The Lord God keeps track of us. He watches over us. He neither slumbers nor sleeps (Psalm 121:3).

Our lives matter.

Thousands of troops stormed the beaches of Anzio in 1943. The Lord knew each one of them. The young sergeant from Rock Springs, Wisconsin, needed not to fear. The eyes of his Lord were upon him. His life was not cheap. It had been bought with the blood of Christ. In the eyes of his Creator and Savior God, he counted dearly.

As do we.

A kill zone is the primary target area for a military ambush. It can also refer to the blast radius for an explosive weapon such as a grenade or bomb, or anything else that kills. It’s a dangerous place. We should avoid it. But we cannot.

We live our entire life on earth in a kill zone.

Maybe earlier we could forget this. While we knew everyone will someday die, it was easier, back then, to pretend it only happened to others.

We can pretend no more.

Those who have spent time in combat have already learned this. No matter how young they were, or how good their weapons, they knew getting killed was always a distinct possibility.

It changed the way they thought about living and about dying. They knew they lived in a kill zone.

People who live far from battlefields tend to think they live in a safe zone. They hear no weapons of war. They seldom see stretcher bearers at work. Surely, they are safe.

They are not.

The whole world should realize by now that there is no place completely safe. The very air we breathe can kill us. The old hymn had it right: “I walk in danger all the way.”

Everyone on this planet lives in the kill zone.

It has been this way since our first parents were driven from Eden and angels were sent to bar access to the tree of life.

Earth had become infected with the virus of sin. It brought death to everyone it touched.

Human eyes alone are not able to detect the coronavirus. A victim may not even know he has been infected. He may ignore the symptoms. But untreated, it can be deadly.

It’s much the same with the sin virus. The lab report is in from heaven. Rebellion against the holy God has been detected in the entire human race. Sometimes it reaches a fever pitch.

We don’t need to take a test. We already know what God sees. Our conscience tells us. His Word confirms it: We are dead men walking.

It’s only a matter of time before our hearts stop. Each day inches us closer. The warning words rush back into our minds: “Dust thou art…”

If the coronavirus doesn’t get us, something else will. The future? Looks hopeless, doesn’t it?

The prognosis for our soul is no better. Sin already infected us in our mother’s womb.

Hopeless.

No.

It is not! The hope is real. Our hope is certain. It’s based on this: That which is dead can come to life again. That’s the official declaration from the Giver of life.

The Son of God explained why he came to live and die on this planet: “I came that they may have life…”

Who are the “they”? We are.

How long of life? How complete of a life? What kind of life?

“And have it abundantly.”

Those who put their faith in him receive new life for their soul. Those who put their faith in him receive new life for their bodies.

“I will come back and take you to be with me” he said, “that you also may be where I am” (John 14:3).

We don’t just live until we die. We live until we live again—till we live anew.

A squad of angels will extract us from the valley of death. We will receive a hero’s flight.

We will leave the kill zone. We will leave as victors.

My mother always called it Decoration Day. The high school band always led the way to the cemetery where a speech was made. The speech always ended with the words: “They have not died in vain!”

I always wondered why some people cried.

As a child, it was an exciting day. School was over. Summer was starting. Why would someone be sad?

Later, I learned. Some of my friends who watched the parade marching to the cemetery later marched to war. Some returned with broken bodies and some with broken minds.

Some now lie silently in that same cemetery. If they could hear, they would note the words, “They have not died in vain.”

I have learned it is not a day for looking ahead to happy times. It’s a time to look back and remember. It is rightly called Memorial Day.

It’s all about remembering loss.

In 1868 General John Logan called for a nationwide day of remembrance on May 30th for the 650,000 Americans who died during the Civil War.

WWI cost America 116,708 deaths, including 43,000 who fell in the attacks by Spanish Flu.

There was a brigade surgeon who looked out over the field where chlorine gas was released for the first time in war. 87,000 Allied soldiers died there and another 37,000 who fought for the Kaiser. The doctor’s best friend was among them.

Remembering a cluster of red poppies growing among the dead, he later penned the famous poem beginning with: “In Flanders fields the poppies blow beneath the crosses, row on row.”

The wearing of a poppy became the mark of those remembering those lost to war.

Much has changed since those days. More names have been added to the list of the lost. Yet, it seems the day for remembering has become more of a holiday than a solemn observance.

Some are eager to move on to the future. “The past,” they say, “is past.” What good does it do to go back over what we cannot change? Why remember?

Those who have only a memory left of their loved ones might answer: “We cannot forget. We don’t want others to forget.”

At the 1945 dedication of the Fifth Marine Division Cemetery on Iwo Jima, Chaplain Gittelsohn said this: “We memorialize those who, having ceased living with us, now live within us.”

We think of words from God: “Remember the days of old; consider the generations long past.” Then he tells us how to do this: “Ask your father and he will tell you, your elders, and they will explain to you.”

The younger do not understand. They must learn from the older. They need to be taught the true cause of war and the only source of peace.

True understanding comes only when they learn that God the Father lost his Son in the battle for our eternal life! That war is now over. It is time to remember the victory.

A cross became his memorial marker. But no body lies beneath it. That marker points to an empty grave. These are reminders of the life never-ending and the peace never-broken that he has won.

If remembering loss can lead us to remembering Christ, Memorial Day will have served us well.

For truly, it can be said of him, “He did not die in vain.”

The problem is, we don’t normally see them! Those celestial beings called angels. We know they are here because God says so. They’re all around. However, since we don’t detect them, we don’t often think of them.

They are angels unaware.

Some humans have seen them. Jacob did when he was returning to meet Esau (Genesis 32:1). David saw an angel striking people with a plague (2 Samuel 24:17). Nebuchadnezzar saw one walking around in a fiery furnace (Daniel 3:24-25). There have been other sightings.

It appears there are different types of angels that carry out different assignments. Some serve their Creator as messengers. We think of those who once made an announcement over the fields of Bethlehem. Who could forget the ones announcing that the Easter grave was empty?

Some serve their King as warriors. The first battle in history took place far above our heads. It was a case of angels against angels: “And there was war in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back. But he was not strong enough, and they lost their place in heaven. The great dragon was hurled down—that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him” (Revelation 12:7-9).

The rebellious angels, now called demons, were thrown out of heaven but not barred from earth. Here, among us, the battle rages on. Angels still fight angels. Angels from the realms of glory are being deployed to protect God’s people from superior and deadly spiritual enemies.

These defenders from heaven have been described as God’s Special Forces. It’s an apt title.

We might remember the Bible naming the Holy One as the “Lord of hosts.” Some translations use the better term, “Lord of armies.” He commands an army of countless angels.

We have no idea how often an angel has stepped in to protect us from disaster. We might wonder about a time when we should have been in a car accident—but somehow, were not. Some may wonder about the times they surprisingly escaped injury or death in battle.

They might have said it was a miracle they survived. It may have been just that. It might have been the work of angels unaware.

One morning, the servant of Elisha looked up to see that an enemy army had surrounded the city. When he asked, “Oh, my lord, what shall we do?” Elisha told him, “Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”

The servant couldn’t see it. He knew how few defended the city. But then, Elisha prayed, “O Lord, open his eyes so he may see.” We learn: “Then the Lord opened the servant’s eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha” (2 Kings 6:17).

Angels unaware.

When we think of divine intervention, our minds tend to go toward big, life-threatening events. But the Bible tells us that God also pays attention to the little things. Jesus talks about noticing a single bird dropping from the sky. He reports the heavenly Father knows the number of hairs on our head.

So, maybe it should not surprise us to learn that he sends angels to keep us from tripping over stones.

Angels are here to protect us from dangers we may have never noticed. This includes threats invisible to the human eye. Among them are the unseen forces of darkness gathering to attack our souls. It surely includes virus particles that would attack our bodies.

We are told angels are commanded, “to protect you in all your ways.”

Nothing slips unnoticed through the defensive perimeter surrounding God’s people. Angels stand watch. Only that which has been cleared by Command is allowed in. Pain can sometimes enter—but only so much. Sometimes, misery is given a pass—but only so much. God sets the limits and provides the deliverance.

Our orders are: “Stay inside the wire!” So, we mark the boundary he tells us not to cross.

We live our lives watched over by angels unaware.

Many a Christian has ended the day with the words of Martin Luther’s Evening Prayer. Those words fit our lives quite well. So, when night falls, we might pray:

“Well, what did you expect?” The question was aimed at a disappointed youngster on an Easter morning.

The blank look and the shrugged shoulders said, “I don’t know.” But what he really wanted to say was: “I expected more!”

I know what the boy was thinking because I’m the one who was asked that question a while ago—well, maybe more than a while ago.

Christmas had made quite an impression: the decorations, the cookies, and the presents—lots of presents.

Easter had a similar buildup: a special meal was planned, extra church services held, holiday cards exchanged—and my sister had said there would be a surprise on Easter morning.

Some surprise. Some hardboiled eggs, a chocolate bunny, and a handful of jellybeans!

I expected more from Easter.

I wasn’t the only one.

On Easter evening, two followers of Jesus were walking the road to Emmaus, talking about the unexpected events of the day. When Jesus joined them, unrecognized, they revealed their disappointment.

Actually, they were disappointed in him.

“He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people,” they explained to this “stranger.” Then, referring to the authorities, they reported: “they crucified him….”

What a letdown!

This they did not expect. Instead, they said, “we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel” (Luke 24:19-21).

But he did! He did pay the ransom for the fallen human race! What more could they want?

They wanted him to redeem Israel in the way they were expecting him to do it. Their expectations for Easter were far different than God’s expectations.

How sad.

But how common.

And how current!

The disappointed youngster who grew up still needs to guard against being disappointed in God’s plans. His expectations still often run down a different path from those of his heavenly Father.

On some days, he expects life to be easier than it often is: less stress, more money—and no deadly virus.

On other days, he is surprised that problems have been solved; threats averted; and fears deflated—through none of his doing.

He is learning not to second-guess how his God is going to work all things out for his good.

He is learning to take a very hard look at what the first Easter means for him and those he loves.

He is learning to expect much more from the Lord God than he could ever dream of.

He is waiting to talk with those two fellows from Emmaus.

He is expecting to do that on a perfect Easter-like day.