“At that time shall arise, Michael, the great prince who has charge of your people. And there shall be a time of trouble, such as never has been since there was a nation till that time.” When the name of the Archangel Michael is mentioned, we immediately think about spiritual warfare and the battle against the forces of evil. It was Michael and his angels who battled in the heavens against the ancient dragon and his angels. Michael is a picture of victory for the people of God. He is the promise that the darkness will not be all-encompassing. His name itself asks a question. Translated, it says, “Who is like God?” Who indeed? Michael is sent to do the bidding of his master, to bind the ancient foe, and bring hope to the people of God. Michael reminds us of the cosmic battle between good and evil, between light and darkness.

Sometimes, we can go months or even years without recalling this battle or thinking about Saint Michael and the evil forces around us. But then there are times when it all becomes so incredibly clear. There are moments in our lives, perhaps when acute suffering or overwhelming doubts plague us, when the reality of this battle comes to the fore. For many this happens when someone we love dies. No church, no gathering of the people of God is outside the grip of the grave. On Monday, our brother Jerry died. It was the same day the obituary was posted for my predecessor, Pastor Yaspelkis. Death causes us to reflect, think about our mortality, and contemplate what we are doing in life. Death is the reminder that more significant battles are being waged and sin has consequences. The “time of trouble” Daniel speaks about comes front and center when the pain of the grave hits us. The wages of sin is death, and death is our relentless pursuer.

But the promise has been made, a promise for all the people of God. The promise is that of deliverance. In the heat of the battle, in the darkest of hours, you are promised deliverance. Now, what do you think of when you hear that promise? What sort of things come to mind when you consider your deliverance? For some, perhaps it means living without fear and anxiety, a life that is whole and complete without dreading the next unknown trouble. For others, deliverance may look like rest, just to be able to be comfortable as you are, where you are, with no more longings for something else, something more. For many, deliverance will deal with sin, with the confession that good things you know you should do are the very things you do not see through, while the evil things you know you should not do, those are the things you do over and over again. The deliverance would be to escape this never-ending tragedy. And for all of us, on some level, deliverance is pictured as a victory over the grave. It is everlasting life, eternal paradise, or however you might describe it.

In chapter 7, Daniel is given an incredible vision of the Ancient of Days, and there is one like a Son of Man who presents Himself before His throne. This Son of Man is an image of Christ, the centerpiece of our hope and deliverance. Daniel says, “To Him was given dominion and glory and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve Him; His dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and His kingdom one that shall not be destroyed.” He is the one who has written your name in the Book of Life. He is the means by which you will be delivered. Michael fights for those who belong to the Son of Man. He will protect them, defend them, comfort them, and guide them through the days of struggle and persecution. They are not abandoned or forsaken no matter how bleak the battle becomes.

The Son of Man’s eternal Kingdom is open to you. You are under His kingship, rule, and reign, but it was not by your works and not by your effort and great deeds that you gained this access and became His subjects. No, it is by faith, by His gifts, by His writing your name in the Book of Life. You are baptized into His death and resurrection. His deeds become your deeds, and His righteousness is your righteousness. So, the promise is made to you this day: You are baptized. Your names are written in that book, and Michael is sent to protect you, to bring you through the tribulation and warfare of this age. Now, this changes everything. Sure, we would rather not face the suffering and hardship of this age, and, of course, we want to avoid the grip of the grave, but you face all of this with the sure promise of deliverance. You face all of it with an archangel named Michael in your corner, promising he will lose none of those whose names Christ has inscribed in the Book.

We all know too well the ancient curse that you are dust, and to dust you shall return. We recall it every Ash Wednesday. We feel it at every funeral service. It is the slow creep of age, the weariness in our bones, the reality that this life is not permanent and what was formed from the dust will eventually return to it. But now we are told there is something more than decay and destruction. Daniel reminds us, “Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake.” He reminds us that the grave is not the end. There will be a resurrection and a sorting out of all the people of the Earth. Time does not just spin on forever. It is not all an endless cycle. There is a culmination, a final day, a time of judgment.

And guess what? On that day, those whose names are written in the Book of Life, those under the protection of Saint Michael, those under the rule of the Son of Man shall be welcomed into everlasting life. So, in the midst of the battle, in the midst of the grind of life, in the midst of doubts, fears, and insecurities, Daniel gives us an incredible blessing. He lifts our eyes up past the battlefield, beyond the daily struggle to the promises of deliverance, to the sure gifts of Christ. No matter how bleak it gets here and now, no matter how bitter the tears, Daniel reminds us how on that day, that long-awaited day, you who are wise, you who fear the Lord, you whose names are written in the Book, you will shine like the brightness of the sky. You will be brilliant and beautiful, a joy in the sight of your God.

Therefore, you take this Word, this promise, and you carry it with you throughout your days. You face the struggles of life, the fears, and the anxieties that an uncertain and changing world presents to you, and you say, “Yes, but I know who I am. I know to whom I belong.” As you experience pain and grief which seem crippling and have moments when you are sure you cannot go on, you are reminded that you are not alone. The battle is not up to you. Deliverance is promised, and Saint Michael stands on your side. And no matter what happens, even as you face the grave itself, you know this is not the end, for those who sleep in the dust shall rise and shine in the glory of our victorious Lord. Deliverance is yours. Life is yours. Let us not cower in the shadows but proclaim it from the rooftops: This world will not be your end! Thanks be to God.