Sermon Notes for November 5, 2017
When we hear the word saint, most of us think of the Catholic definition of the word first: men and women who lived centuries ago and who did miracles. Maybe there is a particular saint you are drawn to, Saint Thomas or Saint Augustine. I've always been partial to Saint Francis. Catholics believe that you can ask the saints to intercede on your behalf when it comes to prayers. That a prayer has more weight if the saint is asking than if you are.
As protestants, that's not what we believe. We do all of our praying direct to God ourselves. We still have saints, but we believe that when we die we join the Communion of Saints. So all of those who have gone before us are now saints. Far from a club for people who lived perfect lives or believed without doubt, sainthood is a state achieved not by good deeds but by dying in the faith of Christ's grace and love. We will never be perfect. No human is ever going to get it all right. But it's not about us being perfect, it's about the grace of God that was given to us freely.
So today we celebrate the lives of those who have joined that great communion of saints this past year. We are also going to look at what it means that we too are saints, or will be in the future. Think about that. One day, you will be part of the communion of saints. You are a child of God. What does that mean to you?
You may find this to be a daunting proposition. I certainly do. Sainthood, after all, seems to call for sinlessness, or at least a singlemindedness of devotion or piety or virtue that doesn't look anything like the lives we actually want to live.
"Sainthood" might also remind us how small and disappointing our own lives can seem. We know ourselves: our worst impulses, choices we regret, hurts we have inflicted. We know how judgmental we can be. How petty or prideful or preoccupied with a thousand things other than the way of Jesus.
And yet, I know I can do better. I can come a little bit closer to where God is calling me to be in sainthood, in being a child of God. In our gospel lesson today, Jesus gives us instructions about how to be a saint, and at the same time offers comfort in our difficulties.
Unsure of your direction in life?
You're blessed.
Caught under the weight of grief and loss?
Joy comes in the morning.
Undervalued and not heard by those around you?
God hears you.
Groaning with hunger pangs and longing for a moment of respite?
The comforter has come.
Seeking justice and peace for others?
God is seeking alongside you.
The saints, Jesus reminds us, aren't simply those who seem to have it all figured out, whose prayer life is perfect, whose service to church and community alike are irreproachable, and who have left a legacy that the rest of us will spend a lifetime aspiring to realize for ourselves.
On the contrary: The saints, Jesus tells us and John reminds us, are those who have suffered greatly and yet praise God all the more. The saints are those who have known the pain of grief and the sting of death, and still manage to find a way to sing, "Alleluia!" The saints are those who have been excluded and ignored by every corner of society and yet still find ways to seek and serve Christ, loving their neighbor as themselves.
And so when we celebrate all saints, we commemorate those worshipping in our pews who are suffering silently. We work to include those in our community who love God and neighbor, and yet find themselves on the margins. And we remember those whose worship of God is unceasing, even now that they have passed into light perpetual.
We, dear friends, are God's children, and this is very good news indeed. John reminds us of this fact in this week's epistle reading from 1 John. We are loved, we are called children of God, and even though we may not fully comprehend what it means to be part of that great communion and never-ending story, we are nonetheless included. Our very calling as Christians is to reflect God's great love so that the world may see God.
One day we will all be saints. For now, though, we are simply saints-in-training. Like any other learners, we will often get it wrong. We will stumble and cause pain. We will behave in decidedly un-saintlike ways. And yet, we will continue to move forward, closer to sainthood with each breath.
Martin Luther famously said that while we live we are all simultaneously saints and sinners. We are imperfect and messy, prone to doing all the wrong things, and completely hapless. And yet, we are also the beloved children of God, trying every day to get it just a little more right. In other words, we are human beings who are alive.
And we are not alone. The New Testament never uses the word "saint" in the singular. There are only saints in the plural. You are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses in all of those who have gone before you, and all of the saints in training who are sitting beside you today.
So as you go out into the world this day, remember that you are a saint-in-training. That one day you too will be part of that great holy communion. And do your very best to live into that calling as one of God's beloved children.
Let us pray.
We give you grateful thanks, O God, for all the saints who have gone before us and who now dwell eternally with you. We thank you for their witness in our midst, their faithfulness to you, and their courage in the face of adversity. And we thank you that for them, there is now no more crying or pain, no more heartbreak or injustice, but only the great joy of worshiping you and serving you with all the hosts of heaven. Prepare us for that great day when we will be reunited with all the saints of heaven, giving blessing and honor and glory to you forevermore. Amen.
