The Sacred Still Speaks: Answering the question, ‘Who is Jesus Christ?

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be always acceptable to thee, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer, and Lord, give us eyes to see and ears to hear the Sacred Voice that still speaks to us through your written word and our ancient faith, and we offer you all the praise, honor, and Glory for it in Jesus’ Holy name. Amen.

Introduction: The Most Important Question

My fellow encouragers, let me begin this morning with a question—a question that a man named Charlie Kirk once called “the most important question in life.” He said this:

“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 the bank account. There is one question that matters: Who is Jesus Christ? The answer to that will either give you eternity or damnation.”

That question stands at the heart of our faith. It is the question that echoes through our scripture readings today, through our prayers and hymns, through our very worship. “Who is Jesus Christ?”

The world and the modern secular church often avoid this question. It is 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 do not anchor us forever.

Kirk went further. He said: “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.”

Friends, here at St. Barnabas, we are not afraid of the truth. We stand on 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 is our calling as “The Encouragers.” That’s what we mean when we say about our church: The Sacred Still Speaks. Ancient Faith. Real Love.

I. Christ in Tribulation – The Widow of Nain (Luke 7:11–17)

Our Gospel this morning takes us to a little town called Nain. Imagine the scene: the sun hot overhead, the dust of the road thick underfoot, and a widow walking behind the bier that carries her only son.

Her grief is complete. She has lost her husband; now she loses her child. In that culture, she has also lost her security, her future, 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.”

Notice the order. Before any miracle, there is compassion. Before resurrection, there is presence. Christ does not sweep aside her tears—He shares in them, even as He transforms them.

Then our Lord does the unthinkable. He actually touches the bier. According to Jewish law, this act made Him ritually unclean. But Christ willingly takes uncleanness into Himself in order to give life.

He who knew no sin became sin for us, that we might live. The shadow of the Cross of Calvary falls across this moment: the place where He will bear all our uncleanness, our sin, our death, and give us His life in return.

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

Who is Jesus Christ? He is the One who meets us in our grief, touches our death, and speaks life into our despair.

II. Christ in the Heart – Paul’s Prayer (Ephesians 3:13–21)

From Nain, we move to St. Paul’s prison cell. Writing to the Ephesians, Paul tells them not to faint at his tribulations. Instead, he directs them to the source of real strength: the indwelling presence of Christ.

His prayer is stunning: “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, and length, and depth, and height; and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge.”

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

Where does that kind of hope come from? Not from positive thinking. Not from self-help mantras. 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.

We pray the Prayer of Humble Access right before approaching the altar:

“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, and that we may evermore dwell in Him, and He in us.”

When we come to this altar and receive the consecrated Bread and Wine, we receive Christ Himself.

These words are drawn straight from John 6, 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.” Those were hard words. Many turned back and followed Him no more. But Peter answered, “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.”

Who is Jesus Christ? He is the Bread of Life, the One who dwells in us, strengthens us, and roots us in love that passes knowledge.

III. Christ in the Wells of Salvation – Isaiah 12 & Psalm 116

Our Old Testament reading gives us another image: “With joy shall ye draw water 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.

The sacraments are not something we participate in as feel-good symbology. They are means of grace, wells from which we draw life itself.

Psalm 116 asks: “What shall I render unto the Lord for all His benefits toward 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.

Young people today are weary of the abstract. They want what is real. They want substance. In our 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, and oil. Ancient faith still nourishes. Real love still transforms.

Who is Jesus Christ? He is the One who opens the wells of salvation and bids us drink freely.

IV. The Contrast: Modern Church vs. Ancient Faith

Now, let us be clear about the contrast. Charlie Kirk warned: “To 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, 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 older ground. We proclaim with our whole worship that God is not a guess—He is truth. Holiness is not optional—it is the goal. And Christ is not symbolic—He is really present in His Church, His Sacraments, and His Word. It’s an “all about God” mentality.

That is why our worship may look strange to the world. Incense, vestments, ancient prayers—these are not museum pieces. They are living witnesses 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.

Who is Jesus Christ? He is the One who gives Himself fully, and we encounter Him fully in the sacramental life.

Conclusion: The Sacred Still Speaks

My fellow encouragers, the most important question in life is indeed: Who is Jesus Christ?

For the widow of Nain, He 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 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 is all of these still. He is present in water and word, in bread and wine. He is here in our worship, ancient yet ever new.

Charlie Kirk was right. The question is unavoidable. 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 Bellville, where the sacred still speaks, where ancient faith is lived, where real love is given.

So, when you leave here today, and someone asks you that most important question—Who is Jesus Christ?—you can answer with confidence:

He is my Savior and my Lord.

He is the Bread of Life.

He is the One who dwells in me, that I may dwell in Him.

And in Him, I have life everlasting.

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