Thin Places

Original sermon given on Michaelmas, September 27, 2026 written and delivered by Pastor Jeff Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church.

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“Thin Places”

Thin Places

 

In the name of the Living God and the Risen Christ. Amen.

“Thin places,” the Celtic Christian mystics call them. “Thin places” are those locales where the barrier between the heavenly and the earthly seems especially permeable or “thin.” The spiritual and the physical, the marvelous and the mundane, eternity and time, meet closely at a moment or a place.

A contemporary Christian poet, Sharlande Sledge, captures the idea in a short verse written on a trip to Iona, in Scotland:

"Thin places," the Celts call this space,

Both seen and unseen,

Where the door between the world

And the next is cracked open for a moment

And the light is not all on the other side. God shaped space.

Holy.[1]

“Thin places” is not a particularly Lutheran concept; it makes us a little uncomfortable. It’s too “squishy,” too misty and unclear. We prefer clear, reasonable, certain, fixed. Like the Incarnation — God’s divinity bursting into this world. Or the Word “cleaving the darkness” at the beginning of creation.[2] Or Baptism, as God’s hands reaching into our rebellion and grabbing hold of us. Or the Lord’s Supper, Christ’s body and blood uniting with us for forgiveness, life and salvation.

But if we did have a day for the “thin places,” today would be that day. Michaelmas — the Festival of St. Michael and all Angels — both recognizes and rejoices in the ministry of angelic beings: spiritual in essence, mighty in constitution, glorious in appearance, wondrous in praise.

So, it’s a day of light, mystery, wonder, and amazement, where the space between us and eternity appears particularly thin. We can almost hear the fluttering of their wings around us and their voices singing with us.

But that thin place also has a dark side to it — a scary side with words of warning. What else might pass through the permeable? St. Paul writes in Ephesians 6, “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Eph. 6.12). Our Lord Jesus in today’s gospel tells us he was there to see it — Satan and his angels falling like a flash of lighting down to inhabit the earth (Luke 10.18).

And, of course, there’s the reading from Revelation 12 for this morning. A great cosmic, spiritual battle takes place — presumably beyond space and time — and one in which the “good guys” (Michael, the Archangel and his warriors) defeat Satan and his fallen angels and toss them out. Yeah! Do a touchdown dance! Or “the gritty.” Or whatever your team does to celebrate… but hold on a minute. Where do they land when they’re tossed out? “But woe to you, O earth and sea for the devil has come down to you in great wrath, because he knows that his time is short” (Rev. 12.12).

When I remember this, I kind of want to grab some plywood and board up those Celtic mystical thin places as fast as possible.

So, today’s thin place certainly has both aspects: wonder at the beauty and glory of the angels, fear at the presence of evil — and not just “evil” as a general, theoretical concept, but real, personal, powerful, invasive, hideous.

This evil is named in Revelation 12. A lot. In fact, we’re given five different names for the Evil One in today’s second reading. And like all names in the ancient world, each of those names tells us something about him. His names are not mere labels, they’re also characteristics — descriptions of what he does in opposition to God. They’re not just synonyms but describe different aspects of evil.

What I’d like to do this morning is to briefly go over these five names for the Evil One in Revelation 12, but also to show how the Christ, our Victorious Savior, stands in exact opposition the evil one. We don’t want today to be about the devil, but about Christ.

So, the first name the Evil One is “the great dragon.” He’s described as “fiery red” in color earlier in Revelation 12. Just to be clear, for you Dungeon and Dragon’s nerds: he’s not a fire-breathing dragon. His color is fiery red, and his name means chaos and division and rebellion. The Bible uses the imagery of a great sea creature, emerging from the chaos of the storm and surf to bring disorder, division, and destruction (Isaiah 27.1; 51.9-11; Ps 74.12-14; 89.8-10; Job 26.12-13). That which divides us and stirs up chaos and confusion is from the devil.

But God is a God of order and peace (1 Cor. 14.33). And Christ, our Victorious Savior, came to bring us together through his work on the cross. The dragon divides through pride and hate; Christ unites and orders through self-sacrifice and love.

The second name given is “the Ancient Serpent.” Here we remember the serpent in the garden of Eden, who twists God’s word and deceives Adam and Eve. Do you remember that first temptation, “Did God really say…?” The serpent’s work is to twist the clarity of God’s word for evil purposes.

But Christ, our Victorious Lord, is truth itself: “the way, the truth and the life,” John 14.6 tells us. He does not bend. His words are clear. His revelation of God’s divine purposes cannot be shaken. And at the cross, he stamped down upon the head of that ancient serpent to win for us a certain eternal victory.

So, the “Great Dragon,” is chaos and division; the “Ancient Serpent” twists; and third, the most common name we used for the Evil One is “the devil” or “Satan.” It’s the same name: Diabolos in Greek, Satan is Hebrew for the one who makes false or defamatory statements. The root of his work is slander. He lies and is indeed “the father of lies,” Jesus tells us in John 8.44.

And perhaps the greatest lies he tells are about ourselves. That God cannot love us. That the Lord has abandoned us. That he no longer cares for us. That our sin or suffering means we are no longer his children. That our work on his behalf is useless. That he has no promise or purpose for us. That death and defeat are final for us.

But Christ, our risen and victorious Lord, opposes this satanic slander by speaking clear words of comfort. “No! Do not listen to those lies! See my wounds, my hands and my side, they show my love for you. See, I came out of the grave on Easter Sunday, so death has no power over you. See, in Holy Baptism I engrafted you into my life, rebirthed you as my child, so that you are now inseparable from my love and power.” Our savior speaks such certain truths against this satanic slander.

So, the “Great Dragon” causes chaos and division; the “Ancient Serpent” twists; the “Devil” or “Satan” lies and defames, and fourth, he is called “the Deceiver” (or we might say “Misleader”) of the whole world! The root of this word and this work is to lead astray, or to cause to wander down the wrong path. The deceiver deludes us into error. He entices us down the wrong roads, away from God for our destruction.

In great contrast is our Good Shepherd. He goes in search of the sheep and leads them in paths of righteousness. He guides them to springs of living water. He pulls them back into safe pastures. He lays down his life for the sheep.

Lastly, name number five for the Evil One: “The Accuser, who accuses them before God day and night.” Imagine here a great courtroom. And standing before the Eternal Judge is the Prosecutor, who incessantly makes charges for your condemnation. Over and over again. Item after item. Sin after sin. Your whole life, body, mind, and spirit exposed. That’s the great accuser at work.

And yet, there enters then another. An advocate, the defense attorney: the Lord Christ, who intercedes on our behalf. Yet even more, he takes our place in the courtroom drama. Every sin ever committed placed upon him; every good deed he’s ever done, given to you. His blood soaked through you, cleansing you down to your soul. His righteousness your covering, so that only his white garments can be seen over you. What now can that greater accuser say? Is not the precious blood of Christ enough to wash us clean? Is not his work on the cross love enough? Is not his victory on the third day mighty enough, even to overcome your sin and mine? The accuser, then, must turn away in silence, for Christ speaks the last word over us.

Thin places. Today’s the day we remember the reality of the spiritual world, and that the work of the evil one is real: he is the dragon of chaos; the twisting serpent; the father of lies; the misleader of the world; and the great accuser. Yet none of this is more powerful than the name above all names: Christ Jesus the Victorious Lord. He brings order and peace through the cross; he is Truth; he pleads for us; he leads us in right paths; he silences the accuser once and for all.

May our Michaelmas celebration today remind us of spiritual things, and may our voices join with the angels in praise to our victorious king.

Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.

[1] Cited by Colt Seager at www.coltseager.com/journal/2022/2/1/art-as-a-thin-place

[2] LSB 578:1

Image Source: Saint Michael Triumphs over the Devil (1468), Bartolomé Bermejo, CC BY 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

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