Christ’s saving work is finished, but his love is not locked away in the past.
Who taught you about God? Who was a witness to you?
For me, it was my pastor, Phil Tukua. Phil is unique. He loves music, lifting weights, has an infectious laugh, fouls hard at basketball, and loves Jesus. He is not only a pastor; he is an evangelist. He is the kind of person who will speak the gospel to a waiter, a grocery checker, a neighbor, or even to a searching sixteen-year-old boy trying to find meaning and purpose in life. I thank God he did not keep quiet. If Phil had not spoken to me about Jesus, my life would not be the same. Through his witness, I became a Christian.
That is how witnessing works. God sends real people, with real personalities, to speak a real Word. And through that witness, Christ is made known.
In Revelation 1, we see that this witness expands. John is writing to the church from Patmos, where he has been exiled on account of the Word of God and the testimony of Jesus. Before he calls the church to be a witnessing people, he first points to Jesus Christ as “the faithful witness” (Rev. 1:5). And though the Greek word for witness is martyr, witnessing is not mainly about dying, but about testifying to the truth – even when that truth leads to death.
But John goes further. Not only is Jesus the faithful witness, he also acts. John writes, “To him who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood” (Rev. 1:5). The contrast is striking. “Freed us” points to Christ’s completed work. “Loves us” is in the present tense. In other words, Christ’s saving work is finished, but his love is not locked away in the past.
Lutherans are usually very good at saying, “freed us.” And we should be. Christ’s work is complete. His death for sinners is once-for-all. His blood has done what our works could never do. He has freed us from sin, death, and the devil. That finished work stands at the heart of the church’s witness. If we lose that, we lose the gospel itself.
But we are often less comfortable saying, “loves us” unless it is the children’s song Jesus Loves Me. Perhaps that is because we are careful, and rightly so, not to speak vaguely about God’s work apart from his means of grace. But in being careful, we can speak as though Christ’s work belongs entirely to the past.
If Christ only loved us in the past, then the church starts to sound like a museum guide preserving artifacts rather than a living people speaking about a living Lord.
That mutes our witness. If Christ only loved us in the past, then the church starts to sound like a museum guide preserving artifacts rather than a living people speaking about a living Lord. We become caretakers of an important message about something that happened long ago. True, yes. Necessary, yes. But still in the past.
For John, Jesus is not merely the one who acted in the past. He is the faithful witness in the present. Which means he is reigning now, loving now, and still bearing witness in this world through his church.
This matters because Christians are often surrounded by false witnesses. We let our circumstances tell us whether God is blessing us. We let our suffering define our standing before God. We let our loneliness, anxiety, rejection, and weakness bear witness about whether God is really for us. These are terrible witnesses because they lead to despair.
If we relegate Christ’s witness to the past, then we leave Christians to interpret their lives mostly through such witnesses. But when Christ’s witness is living and active, we have more to say. Against those false witnesses, Christ testifies that your suffering is not about God’s abandonment, your lack of faith, or your sin.
The one who freed us by his blood is not absent from his people.
Christ’s present love is not abstract. He loves his church concretely. Christ speaks through the preached gospel. He absolves through his Word. He gives himself in Holy Baptism and the Lord’s Supper. The one who freed us by his blood is not absent from his people. Christ still comes to them with active love.
This is more than a minor grammatical observation. It is a theological and pastoral claim. When we hear that Christ’s once-for-all sacrifice is complete, and that his love remains active for us, then we have a Lord who still gives the world what it needs.
This is where Pastor Phil’s witness mattered so much to me. Pastor Phil did not speak of Jesus as though he were only a figure from the past. He certainly told me of Christ-crucified. But he also told me that Jesus loves me today. Through Phil’s witness, Jesus was not merely remembered. He was handed over to me.
With this truth clearly stated, John proceeds to reshape how we think about our own witness. Revelation goes on to say that the one who loves us and freed us makes us “to be a kingdom, priests to his God and Father” (Rev. 1:5–6). Christ’s active love creates an active people. He does not merely save sinners and leave them standing still. He frees them and sends them out as heirs and priests. In other words, we have a new identity and a new vocation.
The church does not live by looking backward alone. She lives by the present-tense reality that the crucified and risen Christ still loves, still speaks, and still gives himself to people.
This is the fruit that extends from the finished work of Christ. Because Christ has freed us, we do not have to justify ourselves. Because Christ loves us, we are free to love our neighbors. Because Christ still bears witness to the mercy of God, the church still has something living to say.
That is the kind of witness Pastor Phil gave me. And it is the witness the church still gives at her best. She looks back to Christ’s finished work to protect the gospel. But she also speaks of his present love to comfort the church, because Christ’s present witness sends the church outward.
So, listen again to John’s revelation: Jesus Christ has freed us. Jesus Christ still loves us.