“Who is Jesus Christ? The Most Important Question in Life”

🕇 The 16th Sunday after Trinity -- 1928 BCP -- October 5th, 2025

Preached at St. Barnabas Anglican Church, Bellville, TX

Fr. Mike Keppler, Rector

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer. And Lord, give us eyes to see and hear, ears to hear, so we can learn your word together as a family. And we offer you all the praise and honor and glory for it, in Jesus' holy name, Amen.

Well, good morning again, my fellow encouragers. And this morning, I want to begin with a question.

It's a question that… Most of you all probably heard of who Charlie Kirk is by now. But it was a question that he once called the most important question in life.

And he said this, and I quote, “The most important question in life is this. The most important question is not how am I going to pay my mortgage. The most important question is not how much money I have in my bank account. There's one question that matters. Who is Jesus Christ? The answer to that will either give you eternity or damnation.”

And I believe that Charlie is spot on. It's the question that stands at the heart of our faith. It's the question that echoes through our scripture readings, through our prayers and hymns, through our very worship.

Who is Jesus Christ?

The world and the modern secular church too often avoids this question, if they even ask it at all. It's easier to ask, “How can I be happy? How can I be fulfilled? How can I avoid offense?” But those are not eternal questions. They may soothe us for a moment, but they don't anchor us in the forever.

Charlie Kirk went further, and he said, and I quote again, “You cannot talk about a savior if you never talk about sin. And the modern church is afraid to talk about sin. To the modern church, happiness is the goal, judgment is the ultimate sin, and God is just a guess. But in a true biblical church, God is the ultimate truth, holiness is the goal, and the greatest sin is to defile the name of Jesus Christ.”

Now, here at St. Barnabas, we're not afraid of the truth. We stand on firm, ancient ground. We proclaim real love, and we answer the question of who Jesus is. Not in theory, not in symbols, but in sacramental reality. That's our calling as encouragers. That's what we mean when we say about our church, the sacred still speaks, ancient faith, real love.

In our gospel. This morning, from St. Luke, chapter seven, he takes us down to a little town called Nain. Now imagine the scene. The sun is hot overhead, the road is dusty, thick, full, under the feet, and there's a widow walking behind a bier, or in today's words, a casket if you will, that carries her only son. And her grief is overwhelming. She's lost her husband, and now she's lost her only son. In that culture, she has also lost her security, her future, and her place in society.

But then St. Luke says, “When the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said unto her, weep not.” Pay attention to the order here. Before any miracle, there's what? Compassion from Christ. Before resurrection, there's presence of the Lord. Christ doesn't brush away or brush aside her tears. He shares in them, even as he transforms them.

Then our Lord does something unthinkable. He actually touches that bier, the casket. According to Jewish law, this made him ritually unclean. He couldn't enter the synagogue after touching a dead body. It was just… It was Verboten. You couldn't do that. You had to go wash and be clean before you could enter the synagogue.

But Christ willingly takes uncleanness onto Himself in order to give life. He touches the bier, takes that uncleanness onto Himself so that He can give life.

Beginning to see the parallels here? He knew no sin…He who knew no sin became sin for us that we might live. The shadow of the cross of Calvary falls across this very moment, the place where Jesus will bear all our uncleanness, our sin, our death, and give us his life in return.

So let's revisit for a second just what a sacrament is. A sacrament is an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace. God uses ordinary things to convey extraordinary grace. Christ's touch, ordinary flesh, becomes the instrument of life.

In baptism, ordinary water becomes the wellspring of rebirth. In the Eucharist, bread and wine become the body and blood of Christ. The widow's son sat up and began to speak. So too, in the sacraments, those dead in sin are raised to life in Christ.

Charlie Kirk's words ring so true here. He said, “You cannot talk about a Savior if you never talk about sin.” The widow's grief is a snapshot of our condition apart from Christ. In that picture, death has the final word. But in Christ Jesus, the funeral procession is stopped, death is halted, and a new life begins.

So, who's Jesus Christ? He's the one who meets us in our grief, touches our death, speaks life into our despair.

So, from Nain, we move to St. Paul's prison cell. In our Epistle reading, which Paul is writing to the Ephesians, he tells them in chapter three not to faint at his predicament. Instead, he directs them to the source of real strength, the indwelling presence of Christ.

You know, St. Paul's prayer is stunning. He says, “…that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith, that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, the length, the depth and height, and to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge.”

Think about that. St. Paul is in chains, he's in prison, yet he speaks of immeasurable freedom. He's confined to a cell, yet he describes the infinite dimensions of God's love.

So where does that kind of hope come from? It doesn't come from the power of positive thinking. It's not from self-help matters. It comes from the real living presence of Christ dwelling within us.

And how does he dwell within us? Through faith expressed in sacramental life.

Right before we come to the altar, we pray. In the prayer of Humble Access, we pray, “Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood, that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body, and our souls washed through his most precious blood, that we may evermore dwell in him and he in us.”

So, when we come to the altar and receive the consecrated bread and wine, we're receiving Christ himself. And these words are drawn straight from St. John, chapter six, where Jesus said, “I am the bread of life. He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood dwelleth in me and I in him.” That is Scripture, my friends. That's what we partake in every Sunday.

But for many of Jesus' time, those were very hard words. Those, some of them that were following him at that point, when he told them this, they turned back and followed him no more. They were hard for them to comprehend, to understand. But Peter answered Jesus, he said, “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.”

So, who's Jesus Christ? He's the bread of life, the one who dwells in us, strengthens us, and roots us in love that passes knowledge.

You know, in our Old Testament reading from Isaiah, Isaiah 12, Isaiah gives us another image. “With joy shall ye draw water of the wells of salvation…out of the wells of salvation.” Isaiah's words are fulfilled in the sacramental life. The baptismal font is a true well of salvation. The waters of rebirth. The chalice is a true well of salvation, filled with the blood of Christ shed for us.

And so, the sacraments are not something we participate in as a feel-good kind of symbology. They are a means of grace, wells from which we draw life itself. And in Psalm 116, we said this morning, verse says, “What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits towards me? I will take the cup of salvation and call upon the name of the Lord.”

That cup of salvation is here on our altar. It is the chalice we share, the lifeblood of Christ poured out for our redemption.

You know, so many today, especially young people today, are weary of the abstract. They want something real. They want substance. And in true Anglican tradition, we have exactly that. Not entertainment, not empty ritual, but sacramental encounter with the living God. The sacred still speaks in water, bread, wine, oil. Ancient faith still nourishes us. Real love still transforms.

So, who is Jesus Christ? He is the one who opens the wells of salvation and bids us to drink freely.

Now, let's be clear about contrast today between a secular modern church and a church like ours. Charlie Kirk warned. He said, “In the modern church, happiness is the goal, judgment is the ultimate sin, and God is just a guess.” We see this everywhere. Churches chasing trends, watering down truth, trying to change scripture to fit their ideology, promising comfort without repentance, community without communion, spirituality without sacrifice. They teach the way of the secular world. It's an, “all about me mentality.”

But here at St. Barnabas, we stand on firm ground. We proclaim with our whole worship that God is not a guess, He is truth. Holiness is not optional, it's the goal. And Christ is not symbolic. He is really present in his church, in his sacraments, in his word. It's an, “all about God reality.”

That's why our worship to some may look a little strange. Incense, vestments, ancient prayers, they're not museum pieces. They witness that the sacred still speaks.

When the world runs after novelty, we stand firm in what is timeless. When the modern church dilutes, we draw deeply from the wells of salvation. So, who's Jesus Christ? He is the one who gives himself fully, and we encounter him fully in the sacrament.

So, my fellow encouragers, the most important question in life is indeed, who is Jesus Christ?

You know, when my dad was studying in seminary to be a priest, and he was agnostic before, and his professor told him, said, Mike, Jesus is who he said he was or he's not. You have to make that decision. He is who he says he was, or he was the most crazy lunatic in the world.

For the widow of Nain, Jesus was the one who touched death and gave life.

For St. Paul in prison, He was the one who dwelt in the heart and gave him strength.

For Isaiah and the psalmist, He was the well of salvation and the cup of blessing.

And for us here at St. Barnabas. He's all of these still. He's present in water and word, in bread and wine. He's here in our worship. Ancient, yet ever new.

The question is unavoidable. Charlie was right. And the answer is not found in trends or self-help or shallow promises of happiness. The answer is found in a place like St Barnabas Anglican Church in Belleville, where the sacred still speaks. Where ancient faith is lived. Where real love is given.

So, my friends, when you leave here today and you have an opportunity to tell someone who Christ is, you can say with confidence, He's my savior and my Lord. He's the bread of life. He's the one who dwells in me that I may dwell in him. And in him I have everlasting life.

That's who Jesus Christ is.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, Amen.