Today we gather to celebrate the Feast of All Saints. I am going to approach this subject by speaking separately of the two words, All Saints.
ALL – “All” speaks to the millions and millions of so-to-speak ordinary Christians who have lived lives of faith and love over 20 centuries: lives for the most part not known to us but known to God. They are not in any way lesser than the apostles, evangelists, and martyrs we know by name. We all have the capacity to be among that number. Their names are on our memorial boards and in our histories but moat are unknown. It is a sainthood derived from faithfully living out our Baptisms and our baptismal ministries.
We are reminded that we often have no real insight into the personal histories and struggles of persons we meet day by day, including fellow Christians and even fellow parishioners: what way God’s grace has worked and is working itself out through their lives; indeed, that we may be in the presence of a saint. I hope we are in the presence of many saints here.
All of us have had lives that have been shaped and blessed by the lives of others – the lives of parents, grandparents, teachers, spouses, mentors, and friends – those who have passed on to us love and kindness. These are people who have been saints to us in our lives. And they are innumerable – that great company of saints with whom, in the words of today’s collect, we are knit together – not a select few or an elite – but that ever-increasing crowd that will praise God in the Kingdom (Isaiah) around the throne (Revelation). So that is what I wish to say about the “All” side of All Saints.
But what of the other half of the title – SAINTS? Is everyone claiming to be a Christian automatically a saint? I suppose the short answer is that if everyone is a saint, no one is a saint. It is hard to ascribe Christian sainthood to the person who is deliberately cruel, to the abuser, to the murderer, to the complete egoist, to the one whose only goal in life is accumulation of wealth for their own pleasure. If someone told me Donald Trump is on the path to Christian sainthood, I would question that assertion, even if he claims to be a Presbyterian and read the Bible every day. Christianity has some minimum standards of behaviour – such as respect, empathy, compassion, restraint, forgiveness and, most basically, Christian love.
What do our lessons today say about those standards? Both the Messianic Kingdom passage from Isaiah and the heavenly Jerusalem passage from Revelation remind us that sainthood is corporate and relational, not an individual charism or gift, but a life in loving relationship. Indeed, if a person takes on the personal identity of a saint in this life, or is regarded by others thus – a “living saint”, so to speak – there immediately emerges the problem of spiritual pride or elitism, whether expressed or internalized. (Mother Theresa, sometimes regarded as a “living saint” did not embrace that title herself but let it be known how very difficult her spiritual life was.) A Christian community that divides itself into saints and sinners is in trouble. Even in the best of all possible worlds, we are all both, saints and sinners. But we pray that our natures, our relationships and our ministries are growing from strength to strength through God’s grace. Sainthood, then, comes through God’s grace, that enables us to be in good relationships and good ministries that conform to God’s mission in the world in the love and justice of Jesus Christ. Sainthood is about “we” and “us”, rather than “I”.
However, the single theme that cuts across all three readings, including the Gospel, is the triumph of life over death. Saints are on the side of life rather than death. In the Messianic banquet in Isaiah, the Messiah will “swallow up death forever” and “wipe away tears from all eyes”. In the heavenly Jerusalem of Revelation, this very passage is quoted: “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more, mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.” And, of course, the raising of Lazarus is about giving back life. Jesus says to Lazarus, “Come forth!” and to the crowd around the revived Lazarus, he declares, “Unbind him and let him go!” Jesus’ ministry is consistently about giving life and giving freedom.
Thus, as saints, or would-be saints, we are called to be life-givers, not agents of death. We are created in the image of God, “the Lord, the Giver of Life”, in the words of the Creed. Saints offer and give life, in the face of sin and death.
We life in a world of death. Sometimes it feels like a world of ever-increasing death: violent governments and militant movements, violent religions and violent conflicts, producing much suffering and millions of refugees. (Never in the history of the world has the number of refugees been this high.) We live in cities of an increasing gap between rich and poor, where poverty, racism and loss of hope produce shootings and death. Unfortunately, Hamilton, too, fits that description. Death is often not physical death, but also spiritual death: death to hope for housing, employment, meaningful relationships and financial security including a secure retirement. There is no shortage of death in this world.
Yet the Messianic Kingdom, the heavenly Jerusalem, the ministry of Jesus in the Gospels, and our ministries (as we are called to be amongst all the saints) are on the side of life, life “in all its abundance”, to use John’s expression. Whether it is our relations within the parish, whether it is our outreach vision for the neighbourhood and the city, whether it is our global outreach to the poor and oppressed (including support and sponsorship of refugees – and we’ll be hearing more about that from this pulpit in coming weeks), we are called to be on the side of life: to offer and give life, whether in the simplest word of encouragement, or the most exhausting project; whether in the smallest sharing of material resources or in the most generous gift.
Likewise, as a nation, we are called to be life-givers to Canada’s aboriginal peoples, not agents of death as has happened so often in the past as we know. It is unconscionable that Canadian reserves still do not good water supplies after so many years. And, on the global scene, we are called to be peacemakers, not combatants with those we do not understand and cannot see. We are called to diplomacy, rather than military conflict. We are called to be life-givers to minorities in the world that other despise and forget, for example, Palestinians in Israel/Palestine. And all our acts of ministry, friendship, creativity, and generosity are to be on the side of life. Sainthood is always on the side of life – the generous word, the generous gift, the generous ministry.
Finally, the Gospel today suggests another quality of sainthood: giving freedom and autonomy to others. To the group around the newly resurrected Lazarus, Jesus declares, “Unbind him and let him go!” And we are mindful of the phrase of the collect, “Christ whose service is perfect freedom”.
Sometimes we bind ourselves (we say that we “tie ourselves into knots”); sometimes we are bound by our addictions or habits we cannot shake; sometimes we are bound by memories of the past or unhelpful traditions. Sometimes we bind or try to bind others, whether to ourselves or standards we set for them. Radical freedom in Christ is sometimes very difficult. And the institutional church often gives very mixed signals – “Risk for the sake of the Gospel, be brave, take a chance!” – “but do not get us in trouble with the insurance company or the police or the bishop.”
How do we grow in Christian freedom? Let me make some suggestions: through self-awareness of where we are unnecessarily bound, whether by the past or by our own limitations, and where we have bound others; through prayer and meditation, corporate and individual; though study in Scripture of Christ’s perfect freedom; through discernment with others (as a parish or with friends) of where we are called to grasp our freedom and act with love, for the sake of life. And even if we feel we are not much free because of our material circumstances, health, age or other limitations, we are called to realize that our Christian faith, our call to be amongst all the saints, gives us a deep spiritual freedom – a deep freedom from fear and anxiety – and the capacity to pray, to speak, to be in friendship and (even if it is in only the smallest way, as appropriate) to act for life, justice and love.
So, in short, we are all called to sainthood and it is possible. Pray that we may continue in loving relationships; that we may be life-givers; and live in the perfect freedom of Christ, that frees us and frees others. And we too shall be amongst that great company of All the Saints. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment