Hebrews 7:23-27 Pastor Nathan P. Kassulke
Easter Festival April 1, 2018 “Jesus Christ Is Our Eternal High Priest”
It was a solemn and somber event. Moses, the leader of God’s people, took his brother Aaron, who had served as Israel’s High Priest, up on Mount Hor. Along with them came Aaron’s son Eleazar. The solemn ceremony saw the removal of each special garment of the high priestly office from Aaron and the passing of both the office and the priestly garb to Eleazar. It was significant because it was the first time it needed to happen. Aaron was the first to hold that position, the first high priest to preside over Israelite offerings at the wilderness church called the tabernacle. But at that time someone needed to take his place. It was necessary because Aaron would not come back down that mountain. He died there, and the new high priest and Moses returned to the people. That was the first time that the high priestly office was passed on to someone else, but it was certainly not the last. Various estimates can be found about how many different high priests served in the history of Israel, many putting the number in the 80s. And each and every one of these priests ultimately met the same fate as Aaron. They passed their responsibilities on to someone else, and they died. That probably sounds very much like just about anything you or I know. Everything changes. Nothing lasts forever. Everyone who lives eventually reaches the end of their earthly journey. And not all examples are exactly the same. Not all priests knew to climb a mountain and to perform a solemn ceremony of succession before God took them out of this world. But the cycle itself remains familiar. The priesthood gets passed from generation to generation. The head of a company will eventually be replaced by someone else. Presidents and governors and other politicians come and go. We even lose our close friends and our family members. And, yes, let’s admit the fact that hits as close to home as any of these: there will come a time when you and I will be forced to climb that mountain—perhaps not literally, but figuratively—and will pass the mantle on to a new generation. And someone else will take over whatever roles and responsibilities we have. Now maybe you are already thinking to yourself: this is not what I came for, Pastor. I did not come to church on Easter Sunday to be depressed. This day is supposed to be amazing and wonderful and joyful. And you are right. This day is so special and so happy precisely because of how sad and dark and deadly this world is without Easter. Did you catch that concept in our Second Lesson today? “If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied” (1 Corinthians 15:19-26). You know what kind of world we live in. The endless drumbeat of death has sounded in it ever since Adam and Eve. It has captured not only priests but everyone. We hear its sound. We read of passing generations, and we recall those who were close to us who have reached that end. And that constant drumbeat just about defines our existence in this world. And it pounds into our head—at least it ought to—that things are not right. We shouldn’t have to go through this. It ought to pound into our heads: you are a sinner. You cannot serve God. You are not good enough. You, too, are going to die. And then on one Sunday morning, that drumbeat suddenly stopped. Women hurried to a tomb expecting to find there exactly what everyone expects to find at a tomb. They went there to find the same dead body that had been laid in the tomb just days before. They expected that it would do what dead bodies do: they stay dead. But that’s not what they found. They found a tomb without a body. They found an angel messenger who explained to them that they would see Jesus—Alive! You come to church on Easter looking for good news, and there it is! Jesus is alive! He is not in the tomb. He has risen just as he said! But this was too much. It was too much to take, too much to comprehend. The women trembled. They were bewildered. They were afraid. They fled and did not tell anyone. Why? Because the one thing that they knew as an absolute and constant in their lives was suddenly taken away. It was no longer constant. And it takes time to adjust to that truth. It would take time for the women to understand what this all meant. It would take time for the disciples to come to terms with Jesus being alive after they knew that he was dead. It would take Jesus appearing to them and meeting with them and eating with them and speaking with them before they would finally