On
this most special day of the church year, we gather to honor and give
thanks to God for all the saints. Our white and gold paraments, our
beautiful music, our special candles—all these things signal
the importance and the beauty of this day. In this fast-paced world
in which we live, always oriented to the next thing and the new, it
is good to pause and remember. It is a holy and sacred task we share
this morning, paying respect, hallowing those whose lives have exemplified
what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ, those now held forever
in the loving embrace of our eternal God.
Some
of us are still newcomers to this All Saints observance, so let me
say that there are three kinds of saints. Our Catholic and Lutheran
and Episcopal brothers and sisters will be honoring the official,
canonized saints of the church—like Saint Francis and Saint
Peter and Saint Monica, in whose fair city we dwell. These saints
are those exemplary individuals, standard bearers of the faith, whose
lives embodied the values and beliefs of Christian discipleship.
Then
there are all those saints who have gone before us, Christians of
all times and places, now departed, at home with God forever. We call
these saints “the great cloud of witnesses”, for we believe
that from their heavenly abode they continue to pray for us, and comfort
us and cheer us on, we who remain in this life for a time. These are
what one preacher has called “the graduates of the school of
grace.” These saints are so special to us and dear to our hearts.
Some of us are here today to especially honor those members of our
congregation who have died during this past year and entered into
life fulfilled beyond our imagining. We will lift their names and
remember them before God and one another. And some of us are here
to remember dear family members And all of us will be lifting names
in our hearts, as well, names of ones dear to us, who have recently
departed this life.
Many
of us will discover tears welling up this morning, not just for those
recently departed, but for some long gone. Grief is a strange, mysterious
journey not measured by clocks and calendars. We never really get
over their loss, as the world would have us believe. You know, there
are times when I can still be stopped in my tracks by the sound of
my grandmother’s voice, or an expression she would have used,
or the way in which her love can still comfort and reassure me, even
now, and she’s been gone more than twenty years. Usually, this
is a private thing, but I’m sure I must look a little strange
sometimes in the grocery store, where she usually pops up in the fruit
and vegetable section to remind me how to pick the nicest melons or
tomatoes or whatever, and sometimes it’s so real that tears
come to my eyes or I talk to her, before I remember that no one else
can see her there.
I
share this because many of you have shared similar experiences with
me about your own precious ones, now departed. And I want to say this
morning that I am grateful for a faith that assures us that this is
all part of God’s great design. God knew that life is hard sometimes,
and challenging, and I mean in more ways than just choosing the best
vegetables. And one so very important way that God supports us and
helps us, is by giving us the saints, the cloud of witnesses, to help
us through. Just how this works is rather mysterious. The Bible isn’t
very clear on this point. But what we do know, is that even in our
darkest times, we are not alone. Even when we cannot see the way ahead
clearly, we are not alone. Even when we doubt and worry and fear,
we are not alone. God is with us through his saints and on this day
we say a big “Thank you” to all of them and to God for
such an amazing grace and gift.
And
if that weren’t enough, there is still a third kind of saint,
and that is, believe it or not, all living Christians, US, saints
by virtue of divine grace, saints through the waters of baptism, as
Paul said, all you who are “called to be saints” and members
of the household of God. Each of us, a sinner, yes, and at the same
time, a forgiven and redeemed saint in the eyes of God, each of us
carrying within us the divine potential that God seeks to draw forth
in us.
What
an awesome vocation, what a responsibility we have, what a calling
to fulfill. Just pause here for a moment and say to yourself: “Through
the grace of God, I am saint.” And if you really were to totally
believe that, would you live differently? How might our lives change
by remembering that God has not only graced us to be saints—but
expects us to live like one?
Oh,
I don’t mean in the sort of wishy-washy holier-than-thou kind
of way. God isn’t looking for boring goodie-two-shoes kinds
of Christians. One contemporary writer defines saints as those who
believe in the power of prayer, “not in the pious sense of nice,
polite requests floating up to a capricious Godhead; rather a force,
vital and alive, part of the quotidian fabric, producing—at
a depth unknown to pollsters, spin doctors, demographers, and other
calibrators of human emotion—widespread outcomes throughout
society? Innumerable small acts of generosity and goodwill, binding
us closer, motivating us, giving us little boosts of hope and faith
in each other. Changing the world, even…someone who [doesn’t]
see the world as separate from the sacred. Who [sees] God everywhere,
shining out from the down-to-earth and battered and untidy and defeated…a
commonsense saint, a saint of what could be done…a practical
saint…”
God
is empowering saints! Saints. People who, placing all their trust
in God, look realistically at this crazy world and nevertheless have
hope. People with two feet on the ground and hands in the muck of
a flooded out house in New Orleans—take that literally and metaphorically—and
still dream dreams and see visions of greater things. Saints. People
who are freed up to give away more of their money and their time and
their talents than is prudent, because God has stirred up their hearts
and their souls. Saints. People who love lavishly and magnanimously.
People who refuse to turn away from those whom the world leaves behind
or sets aside. Saints. People always reaching out and wanting more—not
for themselves, but for all God’s people. Saints.
Saints.
Called by Barbara Brown Taylor persons of “immoderate faith,
intemperate hope and inordinate love.”
Last
week, in his Stewardship Witness, Jim Krause referred to us all as
“stewards of a community.” And though he didn’t
intend it, perhaps, he was giving us a great definition of us living
saints: stewards of a community—past, present and future.
For
in living as God creates us to live, saints even now, in the fullness
of love, in the generosity of hospitality, in the stubborn insistence
on hope and grace, we take our place in preserving and maintaining
and passing on to future generations the plan of God for humankind
and for the creation. What more precious vocation could there be,
saints? What higher calling?
And
so today, as we give thanks for all those who have gone before, let
us pray to be counted among those who follow after, saints in heaven
and saints on earth, the household of God not limited by time or space,
the great company of the faithful of every generation, living to the
glory of God and the fulfillment of God’s kingdom on earth as
in heaven.
Thanks
be to God for all the saints! Alleluia!
Amen
Notes: Hendra,
Tony. Father Joe: The Man Who Saved My Soul. New York: Random House,
2004.
©Patricia
Farris , 2006. Permission is given for brief quotation with attribution.
All other rights reserved.
