Alive To Rise

Where in life do you need God's help to rise again? 

Haggai 1:15b-2:9
Psalm 145:1-5, 18-22
 2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17
Luke 20:27-38

 

© 2025 The Rev. Seth Olson

 

This sermon was preached on the 22nd Sunday after Pentecost (November 9, 2025) at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hoover, AL. A video of the sermon may be found here. 

Holy God, let my words be your words, and when they are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

 

“He is not God of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive.”

 

There are moments in scripture where someone asks Jesus a question that sounds religious but really isn’t. The inquiry that kicks off today’s Gospel is one of those moments.

 

A group of Sadducees—religious leaders known for their wealth, influence, and skepticism—approach Jesus with a story they’ve carefully crafted to make resurrection seem as ridiculous as possible. My friend, the Rev. Charles Youngson, likes to say, “The Sadducees were ‘Sad, you see’ because they didn’t believe in the Resurrection.” They didn’t believe in it because they were the biblical literalists of their day, accepting only the first five books of Moses as authoritative. And, those books don’t explicitly mention resurrection, so they reasoned it couldn’t possibly be true.

 

And if you’ve ever read this exchange, you know—it’s kind of absurd. They present Jesus with this long hypothetical: “A woman marries one brother, he dies. Then she marries the next one, he dies. Then the next, and the next, until she’s married seven brothers. In the resurrection, whose wife will she be?”

 

It’s not a question of faith; it’s a trap. (And yes, Star Wars fans, I can’t read this passage without hearing Admiral Ackbar shout, “It’s a trap!”) The Sadducees’ question is less theology and more theater. They’re performing their cleverness, hoping to make Jesus look foolish. Thank goodness, we never do that to one another (he says with sarcasm dripping from his words).

 

But Jesus doesn’t take the bait, y’all. He doesn’t argue the logic or try to outwit them. Instead, he reframes the entire conversation. He refuses to play by their categories of ownership, possession, or legal status. He says, in effect, You’re missing the point.

The resurrection isn’t about whose wife someone is—it’s about whose life we all belong to. “Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage,” Jesus says, “but those who are considered worthy of that age and the resurrection… cannot die anymore, because they are like angels and are children of God.”

 

And then he quotes the very scripture the Sadducees claim to honor: Exodus 3:6. God says to Moses, “I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” Notice the verb tense here—am, not was. God is—present tense—the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Which means that even though they died long ago, they still live in God.

 

And then Jesus delivers one of the most remarkable lines in all of Holy Scripture: “He is not God of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive.”

 

Friends, that is resurrection. It’s not about biology—it’s about belonging. It’s not about life after death—it’s about life beyond fear. Resurrection means that life in God is never over, never lost, never gone. To God, all are alive.

 

That’s good news for those who grieve—but it’s also good news for those who live. Because if resurrection is real, then it’s not something we simply wait for—it’s something we participate in now. And on this Consecration Sunday, that’s exactly what we are doing: participating in the living work of God. 

 

This morning, we’ll ask God’s blessing upon our 2026 pledge commitments—our Tell Out My Soul campaign. These estimates of giving aren’t just about maintaining the institution or paying the bills; they’re acts of resurrection faith.

 

The Greek word for resurrection literally translates “to stand up again. Resurrection is standing up again. After grief. After exhaustion. After doubt. After years when hope feels too costly or faith feels too fragile.

 

Every pledge, every act of generosity, every prayer for the future of this church—each is a form of rising again. A standing up again in faith. We stand up again as people of the living God, declaring that this community is vibrant. That Christ’s ministry with us is growing. That the Spirit still moves through us to bring healing, justice, compassion, and joy into a world that often feels like it’s dying of cynicism, apathy, and despair.

 

I think about this sanctuary—this holy space filled each week with the living presence of God and the living faith of God’s people. When a child splashes at the baptismal font or a choir anthem rises to the rafters, when bread is broken and wine is poured, when hands are held and prayers are whispered—these are not signs of a church that once was. No, you are the living, breathing Body of Christ here and now.

 

And our giving—our stewardship—is not a transaction. It’s an act of resurrection. It says, We believe in life. We believe in love that outlasts death. We believe in the God of the living.

 

The Sadducees’ mistake was assuming that death has the last word. Jesus’ answer tells us that the last word belongs to God—and God’s word is life. That truth is not abstract. It’s not only about heaven someday. It’s as close and as tangible as this moment—where we, the living, gather to commit ourselves again to the life of God in this place.

 

So let me offer you a question—not a trick one, but a real one: Where in your life do you need to “stand up again”? Where have fear, regret, or weariness kept you sitting down, holding back, staying small? Where do you need God’s resurrecting power to lift you up once more?

 

Because the God of the living invites us to rise—to trust that we are not done, that the story of Holy Apostles is not finished, that the story of your soul is not done. When we rise in generosity, in faith, in love, we proclaim resurrection in the here and now.

 

Years ago at my first parish, a parishioner on a fixed income confided in me, “I’m not sure my pledge will make much difference.” My response was, “You have no idea how much it will.” Because the miracle of resurrection is that even the smallest seed of faith can grow into something beautiful—much like the mustard seed Jesus spoke of earlier in Luke.

Even the smallest act of generosity can change a life. Even the faintest prayer of hope can ripple through this community and raise someone else up. That’s what the Church is meant to be: a gathering of people who stand up again and again, trusting that God’s life flows through us, through our giving, through our love.

 

So today, as we offer our 2026 pledges, as we tell out our souls, we do so not as people trying to prove something to God, but as people already held in the life of God. We give because we are alive. We serve because God’s Spirit breathes in us. We hope because resurrection is real.

 

The same God who raised Jesus from the dead raises us still—raises our courage, our compassion, our commitment—to build up the ministry of Christ Jesus in this place. We are, all of us, standing up again. And when we do, the world catches a glimpse of what resurrection looks like: not only life after death, but life before death. Not only heaven to come, but heaven breaking in—right here, right now.

 

“He is not God of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive.”

That means Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are alive.
That means Mary and Elizabeth are alive.
That means the Holy Apostles and all beloveds who have gone before us—their love, their faith, their generosity—are alive.
And that means you and I are alive too.

Alive to give.
Alive to love.
Alive to rise...

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

 

Matthew 3:1-12: More Than Just "Do This, Do That"

Have you ever played the game called “Do This, Do That”? It’s not all that popular, so maybe you have never played it. But the leader of the game, does actions (kinda like this) and while saying, “Do this.” Those who are playing the game mirror the leader’s actions. The game keeps going on in this fashion until the leader says, “Do that.” And whatever action the leader does while saying “Do that,” is the only thing that gets players “out” of the game. So basically players copy the leader’s example while she or he says “Do this,” but as soon as she or he says “Do that,” one ceases to follow the leader’s motions. So let’s play one round, shall we?

Not to toot my own horn too much, but I was really good at this game. Not because I was super quick and had instinctive hand-eye reflexes, but rather the opposite was the case. I was slow and so I was always a move or two behind. When everyone was “oohing” and “awing” because the leader said, “Do That!” I was a step late and could stop in anticipation of what was to come.

The season of Advent is a prophetic season that often comes off sounding like, “Do This, Do That.” We look ahead to Christ’s coming both in the person of Jesus 2,000 years ago and the future advent of Christ. It’s a season when we are eternally looking ahead. Often we may hear the prophets telling us as we wait to “Do this and do that,” or better yet, “Do this, and don’t do that.”

We can hear John the Baptist this morning as the king of “Do this, Do That.” John is out in the wilderness saying “Come on out… Do this,” “The Kingdom of Heaven has come near, turn around, do this,” “Come into the waters of Baptism, do this.” Of course, the game of “Do This” changes suddenly to one of “Don’t Do That,” as soon as the Pharisees and Sadducees enter into the waters of the River Jordan.

Starting off the conversation calling the Jewish leaders, “You brood of vipers,” makes it seem as though the deck is stacked in this game. Yet, I can see a wry smile on the face of the Baptizer, as he asks, “Who warned you of the wrath to come?” John sees these hyper-religious men as people who rely so heavily upon their rituals that they have forgotten that it is not religion that they worship, but God. He warns them that entering into these life-giving, renewing waters is no empty gesture. True baptism to the prophet is shown in the good fruit it produces. “Bear fruit worthy of repentance,” he says. Do not cling to your ancestor’s merits for God can raise up stones to be children of Father Abraham. Then, John gifts us hearers with two images that at first appear to be dichotomous, either/or, “Do This, Do That,” yet they provide a subtle way for us to prepare for Christ’s coming both as a community and as individuals.

On the surface, we hear either, “you will be a tree bearing good fruit” or “you will be cut down”; “you will be wheat” or “you will be chaff.” There was a tree in the backyard of my childhood home, a great, beautiful apple tree. When I was in elementary school I would excitedly run outside almost every autumn morning to pick fruit from its branches. Then, I would put it in my lunch bag and proudly pull out some homegrown good produce at school. Yet, as the years went on and on, the tree grew older and older, and it bore less and less fruit. Eventually, this once fruitful apple tree slowly started to decay and die. While this saddened me, what I learned from watching this little backyard ecosystem was that even in the process of dying this dying tree was continuing to grab nutrients from the soil and its branches were blocking the sunlight from other smaller seedlings.

John’s warning about the trees bearing good fruit can be taken as a warning to “be good,” whatever that might mean, but maybe what the Baptist is crying about is a need to make way for new growth within our religious communities. I do not intend to pick up an axe and start chopping down dying ministries within our church, nor do I want to light fires to our tradition, but perhaps we together can see where pruning and maybe even hacking is in order to allow for something fresh to sprout. Where is the good fruit in our church? Where are those decaying things that take up our energy? What is blocking good new growth from happening? John’s cry is for us to dream something new together to bring it about and not to cling too tightly to the old ways. Yet there is another image.

One is coming who is more powerful than John, and his baptism is with the Holy Spirit and fire. The image that John uses for this fiery one to come is an agricultural image. The messiah will come with a winnowing fork in hand, as Lucy McCain said in centering prayer this week, there is grace in that he is not carrying a shovel. Yet the end of this image of the messiah seems a bit scary: the wheat is kept in the granary and the chaff is burnt up in an unquenchable fire.

I am not a great farmer, and we have many green thumbs in our church, so if what I am about to say is wrong, please correct me: Wheat is made up of grain and chaff. The chaff is that which protects the nutritious grain from bugs and the elements until the time is right for the grain to be harvested in the granary. John’s image is not asking us to think, “In the life to come do you prefer smoking or non-smoking?” as some church signs read. Rather, we are the stalks of wheat. We have a part of us that protects us from being fully vulnerable with one another and with God. Christ’s call is to shake off that chaff. Let the part of us that is keeping us isolated, alone, and “safe” be burned up in the unquenchable fire. Now I know this sounds scary, but we cannot live fireproof lives. We do not possess flame-retardant spirits. Part of us, that bit that separates us from one another has to be torched.

Once we let that chaff go, then we can come together. We can enter into the granary. As our grains come forth we are pressed together and turned into that flour that makes the bread of life. This is the good news hidden within the “Do This, Don’t Do That” game that John seems to be calling out in the wilderness. Once we move beyond our initial panic of believing that the Baptist is speaking of heaven and hell we can hear this truly difficult, yet fully inspiring message. With God we are called to cut down that which is dying and not bearing fruit in our community in order for new growth to happen and to shed the chaff providing us false security, so that we can come together to form the bread of life. In this season of Advent when we are asked to slow down and be quiet, to watch and wait, to stop and listen, God is coming to be with us. It is not a game of “Do This, Do That,” it is a time of discernment to prune our hearts and ministries, to shed the chaff so that God can bear in us good fruit and form our grains into the Bread of Life.

Luke 20: 27-38: Start Living in the Resurrection

For the Gospel lesson link click here
For the Sermon audio click here

I have not often had the misfortune of walking into a room mid-confrontation. Once or twice, I have walked in to hear friends fighting over something that had just happened. Tension filled the air, yet most often they were arguing over a video game. This morning we get dropped into a heated debate about marriage, or is it about the Resurrection? We will come back to this in a moment. Right now, let’s try to understand how we got plopped into this debate. We hoped over an important detail when we took a detour last week celebrating All Saints’ Sunday. Just before this morning’s gospel story, Jesus came into the Temple, expelled those who were trying to make a profit from this holy place, and won a few arguments with the spiritual elite of the day. Jesus has been embroiled in a series of similar contests between Pharisees and scribes, but now we focus upon his conversation with the Sadducees.

Why are Sadducees so named? Well, the Sadducees are sad-you-see because they do not believe in the resurrection (BWAHAHA). That bad joke is brought to you by Evan’s 2nd grade Sunday school teacher, Miss Dot. We do not know too much about Sadducees because they became extinct by the end of the first century. What we do know is that they were connected to the wealthy people of the day, they wanted to know just what they could get away with and still be considered good people, and they did not believe in the resurrection. They actually sound like some Episcopalians I know.

The Sadducees, a group not mentioned previously in Luke, are on some level really wondering what Jesus’ response will be to their question, but there is also a desire to prove that Jesus does not know about the Scriptures. Pharisees, scribes, and Sadducees often come off looking like the bad guys, but initially they served as foils for Jesus, sparring partners that made it easier to make one’s point more clearly. The Sadducees address him, perhaps mockingly, as “rabbi” or “teacher,” then quote a strange law attributed to Moses, “If a man’s brother dies, leaving a wife but no children, the man shall marry the widow and raise up children for his brother.” Sadducees insist that there is no resurrection because they think that their legacy, their livelihood, and their life itself is passed on through their children. In Deuteronomy and Genesis Moses has made it clear that if one brother dies before bearing any children from a marriage, the hope of him “living on” is passed on to his brother.

Before going any further, let me say, this is a brutal system that completely neglects the position of women. In this chauvinistic, patriarchal society women are seen as nothing more than a way to pass on a man’s legacy. Continuing the name of the deceased came before the needs and desires of women in this society. The Sadducees do not seem to care about the woman from their example, as they continue full speed with their quest to prove the resurrection incompatible with Scripture.

Amplifying their example, they say, “Now there were seven brothers; the first married and died childless; then the second and the third married her, and so in the same way all seven died childless. Finally the woman also died. In the resurrection, therefore whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had married her.” It almost seems comical, SEVEN marriages! Really?! SEVEN! This is EXTREME! Isn’t it? Yet, it is a good question, who are we going to marry and be married to in the resurrection? Or maybe asked more generally, what is it going to be like in the resurrection? I wonder about this sometimes, “Am I going to get to see my family? Am I going to have a body? Am I going to get to watch a movie of my life?” Yet the Sadducees’ attempt to prove their beliefs right through Moses’ law and our attempts to understand “heaven” are out of focus with Jesus’ description of the resurrection.

Jesus did not let the Sadducees’ question reverberate too long in the temple. Perhaps worn a little thin from arguing with Pharisees and Scribes all day long, Jesus sets up a contrast between this age and the next, as those whom he has already contested eavesdrop wondering if Jesus will slip. There is a difference that exists between those who are focused on “this age” and “those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection.” Those of this age are concerned with marrying and being given in marriage, both men and women succumb to the temptations of this life. Those in the age to come do not worry about such things, not because they do not care about their earthly relationships, but because they have begun to act out of deeper Truth. Those in the age to come Jesus says, “are like angels and are children of God being children of the resurrection.” They have adopted the characteristics of resurrection life. They live in the Truth that the resurrection is already underway.

The Sadducees and the onlooking Pharisees and Scribes will not be sold without justification from Scripture, so Jesus recalls the story of Moses and the burning bush. God speaks to Moses saying, “I AM The God of Abraham, the God of Issac, and the God of Jacob.” To Jesus this shows that God does not relate to dead people, but to living ones. God would not say “I AM the God of someone who is dead,” rather God is beyond the realms of time and space. To God all are alive. God is the God of the living not the God of the dead.

When Jesus finishes his argument an eerie silence hangs over the temple, our gospel lesson does not give us the full ending. The Pharisees and Scribes break the quiet and celebrate the Sadducees defeat in this temple debate, saying, “Teacher, you have spoken well.” No one dared to ask him another question.

Yet, what I take away from this contest is not that Jesus is really good at debate, or that we do not need to ask questions about what the resurrection will be like. What I take away from this gospel is that our charge is to start acting like the resurrection is already happening. We might be anticipating the cross in Luke’s gospel, but the cross and the resurrection have already happened. Jesus has already been raised from the dead and this means that we too are raised from the dead for we are buried with Jesus in our Baptism. We therefore are charged to start acting like the resurrection is all around us. We are called to look around with resurrection vision, to taste with a resurrection tongue, to smell with a resurrection nose, to hear with resurrection ears, to feel with a resurrection sense. This is our call. Not to get bogged down in the laws that we make up about ourselves. Not to get stuck in the rules that we think apply to us getting into heaven, but to act as though we are already walking with Christ in the light of the resurrection.
We do this by opening our hearts, minds, and spirits to Christ, by caring most for the least among us, by seeking forgiveness when we wrong someone else, by remembering the resurrection, and by coming back together as the Body of Christ.

There is a resurrection, the fact that the dead are raised Moses himself showed, Jesus himself shows, and we show every week as the Body of Christ. Our task is not to prove this to others through law and rules, but to live this out in our lives as the truest of all realities. We are children of the resurrection, let’s start living like it!

Luke 20:27-38: A Tricky Question

This coming Sunday's gospel text (Luke 20:27-38) begins with a tricky word problem akin to some sort of religious standardized test (SRT). The Sadducees, those who say there is no resurrection, come to Jesus with a question about a woman. This is no normal woman, nor is it a normal question. They want to know the afterlife fate of a woman who subsequently marries seven brothers, presumably as they are all dying of natural causes, not being poisoned in their sleep. In this question scenario the woman bears no children and eventually dies herself. "In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be?" the Sadducees maliciously ask (cackling with a sinister laugh), then state, "For the seven had married her." In this moment the Sadducees grinning from ear to ear are attempting to pin Jesus down with the traditional teachings of the Faith. In particular the rule that when a wife's husband dies she is to marry the man's brother who will take care of her is being questioned in light of the belief that in the resurrection marital relationships still exist.

Sometimes we make a lot out of the differences between Pharisees, Sadducees, Scribes, Disciples, Apostles, disciples, etc. We have a modern analogy of our Christian denominations and how they differ, but I don't think that comparison works very precisely. Typically, I think when reading the gospel of Luke, I don't want to be like the Pharisee, but often times the Apostles and disciples are not doing any better. Instead of believing that Jesus wanted nothing more than to humiliate the Pharisees, or in this reading the Sadducees, it would be beneficial to see these religious leaders as foils, so subtract the sinister laugh from above and think that through the teachings of these others, Jesus clarified his own powerful message. 

In this Gospel, the Sadducees want Jesus to throw his hands up as soon as he hears this SRT question, but instead he expands the horizons of those asking the question. Immediately in his response Jesus turns the focus from marital relationships ("Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage") to a relationship with God ("those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection from the dead"). Jesus explains that in the age to come there are no earthly constraints, like marriage, upon resurrection relationships. For those who may love their spouse and enjoy the relationship of marriage this may be difficult to comprehend. "Why would God not want me to love my spouse forever?" one might ask. My understanding is that even the best relationships here on earth are not grand enough for post-resurrection life! In the resurrection there is no death or pain, so we who live in these mortal frames cannot fully comprehend post-resurrection relationships to make a marital commitment.

The Sadducees who relied upon Moses teaching were keen to use his words to show there was no resurrection, but Jesus turns the great Hebrew leader's words around to teach the Sadducees. Moses speaks of the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, which points to their present existence and shows, "He is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive." This is both a comforting and mystifying ending to the gospel.

As I read Jesus' response to this tricky question, I attempt to standardize it into some sort of post-resurrection system. Yet, I think this is what Jesus was warning the Sadducees not to do. I pretty quickly let my imagination run wild with what is coming on the other side of the grave, and the problem with that is not that I am thinking too big a vision of what is to come, but rather that I cannot possibly imagine something loving and lovely enough. For God is the God not of the dead, but of the living; for him all are alive! God is always with us, even at that difficult moment when we let go of this world and these earthly relationships.