Audio of the sermon is here:

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

            Out with the old, in with the new. New and improved. Turn over a new leaf. Break new ground. A new lease on life. Happy new year. We like new things, new times, new opportunities. If something new is coming, maybe that will be better than what I’m dealing with now, the same old things. We find hope in what is new, rather than in what is old. A new baby makes us think of all that is in front of that child. A new job gives us a chance to start anew. A new relationship. Even trying a new restaurant.

And there are new things in the Scriptures as well. In John 13, Jesus says, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another.” In Jeremiah 31, God promises a “new covenant,” unlike the conditional covenant He had made with the people of Israel through Abraham by circumcision and Moses by commandment. In Ezekiel 36, God promises that He will give a new heart and a new spirit. Here in Revelation 21, and in Isaiah 65 and 2 Peter 3, there is the promise of a new heavens and a new earth. There is a new Jerusalem that comes down out of heaven from God. There’s an excitement for us that goes along with the new that does not usually accompany the old.

But we don’t always want the new thing. What about when the new thing doesn’t work as well as the old thing? How often do we say something like, I wish they hadn’t changed that; or I wish they would bring that back; I wish they still made things like that, the way they used to make them. In the planned obsolescence of nearly everything, the new is not always as good as the old. And this is in the Bible too. Jesus says that no one after drinking old wine desires new, for he says, “the old is good” (Luke 5:39).

Sometimes we want what is new, sometimes what is old. Sometimes we think the new will be better; sometimes we say that the old was better. So it’s not the newness itself or oldness itself of a thing that makes it better or worse. Very much depends on what is old or what is new. So are we talking about some product, some item in our homes? I suppose we could debate the merits of this or that new or old thing. But what is new about a commandment or a covenant or a heart or a spirit? What is new about this heavens and earth, or this Jerusalem?

St. John sees this vision after the destruction of evil. Fire has come down from heaven and consumed those who were gathered against God; the devil is thrown into the lake of fire with the beast and the false prophet. Judgment is rendered based on what people have done, but salvation from the lake of fire depends entirely on whether one’s name is written in the Lamb’s book of life. Then, John says, I saw a new heavens and a new earth, for the first heavens and the first earth had passed away, and the sea, the symbol of chaos in God’s creation, is no more. Then he sees the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride is prepared and adorned and decorated for her husband—John sees Jerusalem as God sees her, similar to a husband seeing his bride starting to walk down the aisle.

Are you ever afraid that what God promises to give is not going to be as good as what you have now? That the new things will be less impressive than the old, familiar things? What is new about all of this? It’s not just that it’s new. It’s not just a change; it’s not just something different so we don’t get bored. The problem is, we have no reference for this kind of newness. All our newness is corrupted. It’s certainly corrupted by our fickle hearts and our restless seeking after both new and old, depending on our current situation. But more than that, there is nothing new that lasts, precisely because whatever or whomever it is, it breaks, or dies, or goes away. It fails us, or we fail them. We die, or they die.

But with Jesus, what is new is new; what is new never gets old, even if it’s been around a long time. A few weeks ago I mentioned how God always renews His creation from within, as He does with Noah, and then Jesus, and then the eternal new creation. It is never absolutely new, without connection to what came before. The new commandment? Love one another? The only thing that’s changed is that Love has taken flesh, crucified and resurrected, forgiving sins and giving life, and now we know what Love actually is, and we keep practicing it, though often in fits and starts. New covenant? Still God’s, who provides the means of cleansing and the sacrificial removal of guilt, but this time it’s His own divine blood flowing from the altar of sacrifice. The new heart? Put into people who have been around, and it makes them new from the inside out. New Spirit? The same eternal, life-giving Spirit, given to dying people.

So it is: new heavens and new earth? Heavens and earth that have been purified of every evil, of all tears and pain and grief; cleansed of the curse that made creation give its goodness by the sweat of one’s brow, in pain; cleansed of the curse that connected the birth of children also with pain and burden, instead of only thanksgiving and joy. No more death, which is the last enemy. Even though right now we have the entire promise and the guarantee of the full inheritance, we still have never seen it. We do not see God. We do not see the newness of creation. We only see the same old destruction, death, and degradation. But when God dwells with His people in that new city, the perfect representation of which He gave hints in the tabernacle, the temple, and the Holy of Holies—there will be no temple, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple. Just as they are the sun, so that that city needs no sun. Then He will be with us as our God and we will be with Him as His people.

Look, He says, I am making all things new. Look where? In the movie The Passion of the Christ, there is one scene that sticks with me. The film depicts Jesus following the Stations of the Cross, or locations along the way to Calvary, where He says or does something. One of those stations is when He meets His mother. Although we do not have this in the Scriptures, in the movie when Jesus meets Mary along the way of sorrows, and she sees Him fall under the cross, she remembers a time when He fell as a child, and she was able to pick Him up and comfort Him. Here, though, she cannot do that. But in the movie Jesus says these words to His mother, “Look, I am making all things new.” He is covered in the blood from the thorns and the lashes and the beatings; His body is weak and He is on His way to death. Still He says, I am making all things new.

Though we haven’t seen it yet, there are still hints, even in this earth, of His making new. Every time a child is born, and every time that child is baptized, there is a making new. Every time someone is sick and gets better, it is a making new. Every time people gather to assist those who have had damage to their homes or businesses from storms or fires, there is a making new. Every time we are forgiven in the baptismal Name; every time we forgive one another, and release the other person’s sins, rather than holding them against them, there is a making new. 45 years ago today, just after 8:30 Pacific Time, Mt. St. Helens erupted and destroyed land and vegetation and animals, and killed more than 50 people. Scientists thought it would take years or decades for life to return to the blast zone. But within weeks there were new plants. A making new. These are just hints, but everything Jesus does while He’s on earth is a sign of the making new: in fact, the only new things in this entire old creation are the body of Jesus and His resurrection. But look: He heals the sick; He feeds the hungry; He casts out demons; He raises the dead; He gives sight to blind eyes, and hearing to deaf ears. All of it, a making new.

And so it goes, covered in the blood and grime and filth of ongoing unbelief and rebellion; covered in the old sins to which we return again and again covered in the apparent finality of death; but still, and still, Look: I am making all things new. Even when you sit facing a casket, Jesus says, I am making all things new. Even when your sickness, like Paul’s thorn, doesn’t get taken away, though you pray and pray: Look, I am making all things new. Even when temptation gets stronger the more you fight against it: Look, I am making all things new. I am making all things new. Now, each day, every day, because He is with us all the days until the completion of this age, and into the beginning of the new age, heavens and earth transformed, new Jerusalem coming down, and its healing water and fruit for all the nations. Look! It is done. The one who is Alpha and Omega, first and last, He gives to you thirsty ones the water of eternal life. All will be remade; all will be new.

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. “And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7, ESV).  Amen.

–Pr. Timothy Winterstein, 5/17/25