In the year that King Uzziah of Judah died, St. Isaiah had a vision of the Most Holy Place in the courts of heaven. The Lord was sitting on a throne, high and lifted up, and the train of His robe filled the temple. There were angels standing above the throne—six-winged seraphs—covering themselves with two pairs of wings out of respect and modesty, being in the presence of YHWH Sabaoth. They cried to each other antiphonally words from which the Sanctus is derived, and the place shook for the sound of their cries while the smoke of incense filled the temple.

St. Isaiah was privileged to get a glimpse of heavenly worship. It’s probably fair to say that he didn’t see everything that happened in the Most Holy Place; likewise, what he revealed might only be but a portion of what he was given to see. The sights, sounds, smells, and feelings of everything going on must have been more than he could understand; I would wager even the taste of things happening was palpable and more wonderful than anything he had ever experienced below. Once the wonder of the scene catches up to him, though, he realizes who he is and where he is.

“Woe is me,” he exclaims, “for I am undone!” Who is he? He is a man of unclean lips living in the midst of a people of unclean lips. And let me make things perfectly clear here. It wasn’t just his lips and his people lips that were unclean. From head to toe, inside and out, St. Isaiah was impure, as were the people among whom he lived. Where is he? He is in the presence of the King, YHWH Sabaoth, and more than that, his unclean eyes have seen Him. (cf. Isaiah 6:1-5)

However, one of the seraphs flew over to him. He had in his hand a live coal, taken with the tongs from the altar where the incense was burning. The seraph touched St. Isaiah’s mouth with the live coal. Those unclean lips were touched with a holy fire—a cleansing fire which purges iniquity, taking it away. And when something is purged of iniquity, it is made pure. “Behold, this has touched your lips;” the seraph said, “Your iniquity is taken away, and your sin purged.” And let me make things perfectly clear here. As much as St. Isaiah spoke of his lips as referring to the whole of him, so here the seraph does the same thing. His lips may have been the part of St. Isaiah that was touched with a live coal, but, as the seraph said, his sin is purged. St. Isaiah could now look upon God and live! (cf. Isaiah 6:6-7)

On this day of observing All Saints, you have heard as you do on every All Saints’ Day, the Beatitudes from Jesus’ sermon on the mount. Jesus speaks of the blessings of being one of His saints: having possession of the kingdom of heaven, comfort, the earth as an inheritance, being filled, obtaining mercy, being called a son of God, and even having a great reward in heaven for being persecuted like the prophets who went before.

These are all great things, and blessings to rejoice in to be sure (even that persecution), but they all hinge on the one I omitted from the list. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” The blessings of the saints, and your blessings as a saint, rely on this one: being pure in heart and seeing God. One cannot look upon God and live except he be made pure in heart, unless his iniquity is taken away and his sin is purged. You need to be refined in the fire of the holiness of God so that your iniquity is taken away and your sin purged.

So, the Father sent the Son into the flesh to win and effect that change for you. You see, you still fall under the same curse that St. Isaiah faced in his vision. If you found yourself in the presence of YHWH Sabaoth, your fate would be the same as that expressed by the prophet—you would be undone—unless someone came over to you and purified you. This is the threat and curse of the Law. Your lips—your entire being—is unclean and you live in the midst of an unclean people, and for it you should die.

Therefore, “[W]hen the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.” (Galatians 4:4-5) “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.” He who is holy became one with you in order to assume your iniquity and sin into His own flesh and become the object of the Father’s wrath. No one may look upon God and live, so God becomes man in order to die with the sins of the world. He faced that death head on and triumphed over it as death gave way to life and He rose from the grave. And for it, through the death and resurrection of Jesus, you are at peace with God, reconciled to Him, and have received the adoption as sons.

So, then, how do you become pure in heart? Well, like St. Isaiah before you, it must be done to you. You don’t just wake up one morning, or one moment come to your senses, and decide to be pure; you are made pure! A seraph flew to St. Isaiah and with a live coal and with that purified him. You are made pure with water and the Word. There at the font, you were baptized in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. You were washed as the name of God was applied to you, and you were sealed with the cross on your forehead and breast to mark you as one redeemed by Christ the crucified. It is as if the seraph had come to you with those sweet words, “Your iniquity is taken away and your sin is purged.”

Then, week after week, you hear it again: words that recall for you your drowning to sin and rising to newness of life. The called minister of God stands up here and proclaims to you that you are forgiven for all of your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Then, he ushers into your mouths the very body and blood of Jesus Christ, given and shed for you on the cross for the forgiveness of all of your sins. And you in faith receive the very things they give: forgiveness, life, and salvation.

Speaking through St. Ezekiel, YHWH prepared His remnant to come out of the Babylonian captivity. For far too long, the people of Judah had been chasing after false gods and forgetting the statutes of God. King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon besieged Jerusalem several times and took people into captivity, including Sts. Ezekiel, Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah. But it was by the pen of St. Ezekiel that these words of YHWH are recorded:

The captives returned, the temple was rebuilt, and for a time, the people of Judah lived in relative peace under the grace and protection of YHWH. They were washed clean, you could say, and made to dwell again in their own land.

But that sprinkling of water and being cleansed from all filthiness is of great significance for you. For it was at the font that this very thing happened to you. There, your heart of stone was removed from you and you were given a heart of flesh. There, the Spirit of God was placed within you and you were made a new creation. That heart of pure flesh now wishes to walk in the Spirit of God, in His statutes and judgments, seeking to keep and do them. Of course, you know how the battle between your sinful flesh and new heart often bears out; that’s why you come here week-in-and-week-out, to hear the Law judge you for your sins and the Gospel to bring you back to that newness of life, braced again for bearing the fruits in keeping with repentance. Nevertheless, this blessing wouldn’t be yours unless you were made a saint and given a pure heart.

This is why you sing the words of St. David, week-in-and-week out, crying out to him as did the Apple of His Eye, to renew that heart of flesh that He has put in you as said through St. Ezekiel. In a few moments, you’ll be singing those words,

You still wrestle Old Adam and still require a renewal of that joy of salvation—of having your heart cleaned and purified.

Living in this mysterious duality, as sinner and justified, you can look upon God and live. Of course, for the time being, all you see is an image of the crucified God, and He is the very image of the invisible God. So, look upon the crucifix, and there see your crucified God who died for you, knowing this, that on the last day, when He returns you will see God.

For it is like St. Job once said,

It’s the same thing that you heard from St. John’s first letter this morning:

St. Job and St. John are ones who are blessed to be pure in heart, as are all the saints of God, living and dead.

In fact, St. John, like St. Isaiah, was privileged to get a glimpse of the goings on in the heavenly places, this time in the new heavens and new earth. St. John related that in his vision while exiled on Patmos, one of the seven angels showed him…

God’s servants shall serve Him. They shall see His face, and there is no fear of death because His name shall be on their foreheads. That name is placed on you in Holy Baptism.

So, when Blessed St. John saw this vision, he was seeing you, dear saints gathered here, with all the saints the world over and all the company of heaven. You will be gathered around the throne of God and of the Lamb, with the light of Christ shining on you. You, like St. Isaiah, St. Moses, Sts. Adam and Eve, St. Paul, St. Timothy, St. Ezekiel, St. Daniel, St. Hananiah, St. Mishael, St. Azariah, St. David, St. Job, and St. John are pure in heart, made so by way of baptism into the death and resurrection of Jesus the Christ. You are forgiven for all of your sins, therefore, you shall see God with your own eyes and not another, and live for eternity.

“Our Lord and Master Jesus Christ, when He said, ‘Repent,’ willed that the whole life of believers should be repentance.”

That opening thesis of the 95 on the power and efficacy of indulgences was the first pebble—grain of sand, perhaps—tossed into the pond which would be the 16th century Reformation, which would eventually birth the Lutheran Church and give rise to the various other protestant traditions around the world. Now, while these theses would be material worthy of our studies on Wednesday night, they were not intended to start a new confession or church body, and certainly not a document intended to reform the Church on earth in it’s entirety. Martin Luther simply wanted to talk about indulgences and if they were truly effective in releasing people from Purgatory or if they were a pious fraud being sold to ordinary Christians in order to fill the church’s coffers—a singularly focused reformation, perhaps.

“Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar?” It’s a bit of a weird question. Just give it a moment of thought. If the law says, “Pay taxes,” then it is certainly lawful to pay taxes—being under Roman rule, the law in Judea was to pay taxes to Rome. However, this was a question designed to trap Jesus in His own words, as evidenced by the buttering-up He received: “Teacher, we know that you are true and teach the way of God truthfully, and you do not care about anyone's opinion, for you are not swayed by appearances.” If He answered “No,” then the Herodians—supporters of Roman rule—would have been angry; Jesus would be labeled as a radical and insurrectionist (a little foretaste of what happened when Jesus was brought before Pilate). If He answered “Yes,” then He would have angered the Pharisees and the religious right of His time, certainly giving them more ammo in their attempt to thin His crowd of followers.

“Whose likeness and inscription is on the coin?” “Ceasar’s,” they answered.

“Fine then, render to Caesar those things which are his.” If you’re going to carry around in your pockets money that bears the image and name of someone else, then you have been granted permission to use someone else’s coin for your legal transactions. And when he calls for some of it to be returned—a sort of fee for your use of his tender, a tax—then you are obliged to render to him that for which he asks. This is the law. A simplified explanation, perhaps, but the illustration stands.

When one hears this parable, the natural inclination is to look at what the all of the people are doing. These people are invited to a feast. When it came time for the feast, they are fetched by a servant, but each of them gives excuses and declines showing up. Additionally, they take those who came to fetch them and treated them spitefully and killed them. Of course, this would incense the one who invited them, and in the parable, he destroyed the invitees and burned up their cities.

Then, there are other people brought to the feast, and again, the attention is on them. The hall is filled with guests, but one of them isn’t wearing the proper wedding garments. It was traditional in the time of Jesus that when you invited someone to a wedding feast, you provided them the appropriate attire. When he’s approached about it, he hasn’t an answer. So, he is bound hand and foot and thrown into outer darkness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Those hired vinedressers, the tenants, were foolish and blind. Anyone reading or hearing the parable could tell that. Even the chief priests and elders of the people knew it.

In the parable, a landowner planted a vineyard, dug a winepress in it, and built a tower. He leased it to the vinedressers then went off into another country. The lease isn’t too difficult to understand—the rules are easy to figure out here. It’s the owner’s vineyard, winepress, and tower. The tenants are hired. They were to tend to the property, care for the vineyard, harvest the grapes, and give the owner what is his. In return, they got to live on the land and keep some of the harvest.