People have been saying, this is going to be a difficult All Saints, an emotional one. Just in the past few weeks, Facebook has been reminding me of these saints. Last week it was the reminder of the double duet with the two grand pianos and Sonya standing there, no hint she would join the Saints eternal this year. I was asked to wish my friend Susan a happy birthday. She died not long before All Saints Day last year but it is still jarring to think she’s not up to her usual shenanigans on this earth anymore. We’ve lost friends we didn’t have a service for and that leaves a strange feeling, like there’s something left unfinished or dangling. And we have in our minds wars and disasters that feel heavy, we have mass shootings on our hearts that defy our ability to understand the senseless loss of life. And on this day, in the face of death, we choose to celebrate.
We
celebrate the lives of these people that touched our lives or touched other
lives we don’t know. We celebrate their
memories. We remember them because they
are still part of us. Nothing will ever
change that. And we celebrate because we
know there is more than this life. Here,
we just get a little glimpse of what life is.
The saints who have died see much more clearly. They know what it is to be in the presence of
God, at the feast that has no end, residing in one of God’s dwelling
places. They are at peace and they are
at home. We know we will be reunited but
it is painful now to feel apart from them and not have them here with us.
As we
wait for the day when heaven and earth unite, we work toward God’s vision
together. Today we hold up that vision
which inspires us and gives us hope to keep working.
The Book
of Revelation is a word painting for suffering Christians. It was written
for those persecuted by Nero to have a vision of hope, in which God and the
Lamb, Christ are in the center, surrounded by the saints and martyrs, singing
and worshiping God, with God’s love and light extending from that central place
and rippling out in concentric circles to the farthest corners of the heavenly
realm and breaking into our world.
And we get glimpses of it. Did you recognize any of the
words this morning in that reading? We enact this scene, or try to every
Sunday morning at Church. We place God and the lamb, Jesus, at the
center, and we gather together as many as come, although all are welcome.
There is no distinction, but all worship together from any nation, all tribes,
and peoples and languages. I wear the white robe for all the rest of
you. It is like a uniform that the saints wear, so that no one’s clothes
are better than any other or a distraction for the saints. We sing this
song, “Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and might be to
our God forever and ever! Amen.” Sound familiar? We sing these
words from Revelation as we enact this scene, as the Kingdom of God breaks in,
living this vision of what is to come. We don’t just sing by ourselves,
but our voices join with the saints gathered around the throne, collapsing the
distance between us and them, between our world and the Kingdom of God.
As I grieve those I love, I like to remember their voices. I can hear them, my grandma’s so stern and
blunt, Sonya’s so kind and caring, Marge’s so welcoming, Carl’s so matter of
fact. You can hear them, too. When I stop and listen to their voices, I
feel like they are right here with us.
So when we sing, I like to hear their voices joining ours and it lifts
me up. I feel God’s Kingdom so close.
And it isn’t just in our singing that these realms come near, but anywhere and
anytime that people have enough to eat and drink, where there is shelter and
protection, when compassion and tenderness is shared. This is fully the
reality in the heavenly realm, and there are points where it breaks into our
world when God’s love touches our hearts and brings the Kingdom through us to
others in need.
Never does the heavenly realm see so far away from this world than in the
values that matter to God and the values that are lived in this world.
That’s where the Beatitudes in the Gospel of Matthew come in. In this
world, we think someone is blessed if they are confident, don’t know the pain
of loss, are full of good food and all kinds of treasures, are merciless, are
smart, refuse to compromise, and don’t endure any suffering. That’s when
a person can say they are blessed. Those are the people we tend to
admire.
However, that is not what God admires or values or honors. When we are so
full of ourselves, how will we ever have room for God? When we have all
the comforts of life, what would cause us to open our eyes and look for
something more, for a Kingdom and a realm of misfits? If we can do it all
ourselves, why would we need each other or God?
To be blessed is to have room for each other. To be
blessed is to have room for God. To be blessed is to look for God.
To be blessed is to realize that we all are broken and we all need
healing. To be blessed is to be honest about ourselves and our
imperfections and shortcomings. To be blessed is to be ready to receive.
I remember working as a chaplain, I found patients at the
hospital were open to talking about their spirituality, more so than most
people I met who were healthy. I found my patients were blessing me with
their openness to God’s presence. Much of the time, I think we go about
our day and don’t give God’s vision a single thought. But when we mourn
or feel helpless, we find ourselves remembering what is most important, and
putting our hope in God, instead of our own power. That’s when the
Kingdom of God is breaking through and giving us new life.
In the Beatitudes, God lays out God’s values. Jesus begins
with an unexpected blessing, for the poor in spirit, the merciful, etc.
This is a current reality that someone is living. They didn’t choose this
mode, it is the way things are. Then Jesus offers a vision of a future
reality that is God’s vision, of comfort, inheritance, fulfillment, mercy,
vision, adoption. This is the promised future. This is the Kingdom
of God which the martyrs know fully, and which is breaking into this
world.
Two times in the Beatitudes it isn’t a future reality, but a
present reality. For both the poor in Spirit and the persecuted, Jesus
says, “Theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” This is a present reality more
than the others. They have access to it now. They are part of it
now. It is theirs. It is not far away, but here on earth, God
wiping away the tears, these folks focused on what matters, living God’s
values, open to God’s presence, upheld in community, shining with God’s light
and love.
Every Sunday we also pray that God’s Kingdom come and it does
come regardless of human defiance. The saints and martyrs are in that
reality even now. But we also pray it comes among us, that it breaks
through in our world in our words and actions. And we pray that we would
open our eyes to see it in the hungry and homeless and ill around us and reach
out to them as Christ in our midst. “See what love the Father has given
us, that we should be called Children of God; and that is what we are.”
And that is what our neighbor is. “Beloved, we are God’s children
now.” This present reality gives us hope for the future that God is
revealing to us.
May you have hope in more than your own comfort and
stability. May you find the broken places in your life, spaces that God
dwells and shines a brilliant light. May you look for God’s Kingdom coming
into the world and participate in it. May you know blessing in
pain. May you know God’s presence and share it. May God’s future
Kingdom promise be collapsed into your everyday reality. May you live in
the values of the Kingdom.
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