Sunday, November 7, 2021

Sermon - Learning from the Saints (All Saint's Sunday B)

 All Saint’s Sunday – Year B                                                         November 7, 2021
Isaiah 25:6-9; Revelation 21:1-6a; John 11:32-44             Panzer Liturgical Congregation

Here’s something you might not know about me… I love a good funeral. And I’m am saddened by a bad one. “What makes a funeral good and what makes one bad?” My thoughts on this are a blending of my personal experience and the opportunity to do some extra study on the topic in seminary. But once I had attended a beautiful, uplifting funeral – a service of death and resurrection, I knew that I had learned something special about how we should celebrate people’s lives when they die.

I went to my first funeral when I was 14. Knowing what I do now, it was entirely too late. My grandparents were both from large families and other funerals had taken place, but my parents chose to shield me from these services. When I asked why, they replied, “We don’t want you to be sad.” So, when I was 14 my grandfather died from a heart attack the last week of the school year. We were close, and I didn’t know how to process that grief. I didn’t know what to expect at the funeral home or in church. I don’t remember experiencing much joy in our family’s gathering. His death was a cloud that hung over the family for a long time… it was a storm in my grandmother’s life until her death many years later. Things were said that couldn’t be taken back. And looking back, it changed the way we related to one another for a long time.

When I was in seminary, the long-time choir director at Duke Chapel, Ben Smith, died after a fairly long illness. His death was not unexpected, so we had a lot of time to prepare. He was intimately involved in the planning of the service – choosing the hymns and scriptures and giving the Dean of the Chapel a list of acceptable stories to share. The Chapel had a choir anthem written in his honor – a musical setting of Psalm 27 by John Rutter – which we practiced from manuscripts that came straight from the composer.

Finally, this was what a funeral was supposed to be like. We sang hymns of praise – we read scriptures about resurrection and life – people told funny stories – one of the seminary professors read a poem about a goat. At the end of the celebration, we recessed in full voice with grand organ accompaniment… “For All the Saints” and ended with a choral setting of “The Lord Bless You and Keep You.” It was Church. And I would never think of funerals the same way again.

All Saints Day isn’t a funeral for any one person, but it does allow us to celebrate the lives of the saints in our lives. They may be people we have lost in the last year, but they can also be the people who have been our role models and inspiration for our lives of faith.

All Saints celebrations remind us that we are not the first people to follow Jesus… not the first to hear and heed the call…not the first to walk the path of the cross. Those faithful ones who came before can teach us a lot if we dare to listen and learn. Our journeys are not just defined by the way that Jesus lived, but also by the ways that people have lived between then and now. All Saints reminds me that when I don’t know which way to turn, there is often a saint, well-known, unknown, or somewhere in between, who can help to show me the way. Our freedom to be disciples of Jesus Christ is inspired and guided by those who have come before.[i]

In today’s gospel lesson, Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead. He goes to the place where corpses were laid to rest, commands them to open the tomb, and bids Lazarus to come out. On other Sundays when this is the appointed text, we focus a lot on Jesus, what delayed his travel, and Lazarus’ sisters, Mary and Martha, and their reaction to Jesus not showing up to prevent their brother’s death. But today, we focus on this audacious act of faith… asking people to open a tomb where a body has been laid for three days. And expecting the man to come out as if nothing had happened.

Lazarus’ raising is a foreshadowing of what will happen to Jesus soon… 3 days dead, then alive again for many to see. This passage reminds us that in Jesus, death does not get the last word. We hear this from the prophet Isaiah also. Exile to Babylon feels like death, but the prophet says, it will not all end there. God will bring us home, wipe away our tears and save us from the certainty of death.

We don’t often read from the book of Revelation in the RCL, but when we do, it is with purpose. John wrote to a community undergoing a time of persecution. Life the prophets of the Old Testament, he is relaying the most important message – God is not done with us yet. Take care – John’s visions in Revelation are not a prediction of the end times. Instead, they are more like an impressionist painting, offering an alternative life plan to the one offered by those who use power to their benefit. Biblical scholar John Holbert says,

“John's Revelation is a great book of the promise of God to create a world where all have a place, where hierarchies disappear, where all live together in harmony and peace. Do not allow anyone to make this book into a thing of scary fear, of partisan choice, of believing rightly lest you end in fire. No! It is a book of hope, founded in love, and the gift of the lamb for all of the people of God.”[ii]

The slain lamb is the key to life for people of faith, not victory in the traditional sense of the word. The key to life is service – service to God and to others - service that may lead to suffering and giving and dying.[iii] And while John’s Revelation is multi-layered and interpreted in many different ways, one thing we know for sure: God wins and evil loses. God will make “all things new,” not “all new things.” The heaven described in this biblical writing is the fulfillment of what God intended from the beginning of time – a new Eden, a place of order, structure, and designed to be ruled by love.[iv]

On All Saint’s Sunday, we acknowledge that we stand on the shoulders of those who lived and died before us, and we recognize them for their faithfulness and their witness. Being a saint isn’t about being perfect – it doesn’t mean they never made a mistake. Today’s celebration isn’t about the official process of being a recognized saint in the church. Today’s celebration is about recognizing that there is a saint at the heart of everyone who has followed Christ, and also at the heart of who we are ourselves. And more than anything, sainthood is defined as “Living grace,” the embodiment of our faith.

In his book, Revival, Methodist author Adam Hamilton defines Living Grace this way:

It is an act of kindness, an expression of selfless love that is completely undeserved and is given without any expectation of repayment. We are never more like God than when we are giving selflessly to others. Because God created us to live in this way, we seldom feel more alive and joyful than when we are serving, blessing, and helping someone else. That is charis. This is grace.[v]

Sainthood is only possible if we fully embrace this amazing gift of grace. Grace changes
us, it molds and shapes us and re-creates us in the image of Christ. As we celebrate at this All-Saints celebration, let us be reminded of the gifts of the saints who came before us, and of the great gift we have in them. May we move forward by looking back and living with their witness in our minds and hearts. All Saints reminds us that we don’t have to make up our faith as we go along. There are trustworthy guides who have walked before us – people like Isaiah, John, and others who form the “communion of the saints.” They have much to teach us if we will only listen.[vi]  

One of my favorite All Saints hymns is "I Sing a Song of the Saints of God." Here's a great video version that reminds us that we are all called to be among the saints.

Peace, Deb

Let us pray:

You are our God and we are Your people,
and we are grateful that You have claimed us as your own.
You have set us in the company of saints past and present,
among those who have made bold witness
to Your goodness and Your truth.
Your Word opens up new futures
where we see no way forward.

You know the places in our hearts
where we are afraid
— afraid of a future we cannot control;
— afraid of losing health and independence
— afraid for the well-being of our children
— afraid that past mistakes will ruin our future

Write the stories of your people deep into our hearts
so that we may learn to trust you beyond our fears.
Give us hearts and minds and spirits
ready to trust and follow wherever your Spirit leads,
confident that you will not lead us
beyond your loving embrace.
We ask in Jesus’ name
whose outstretched arms welcome us
and hold us securely in your grace. 

~ written by Christine Jerrett, and posted on the Christine Jerrett blog. https://christinejerrett.wordpress.com/

 



[ii] John Holbert, “No, It’s Not "Revelations," and It Is Not About That!” http://www.patheos.com/Progressive-Christian/Reflections-on-Revelation-John-C-Holbert-10-24-2014.html#ixzz3Hp378v1H  

[iii] Ibid.

[iv] Ibid.

[v] Adam Hamilton, Revival, 2014, page 80.

[vi] Willimon, Ibid. 

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