Scripture texts: Isaiah 25:6-9, Revelation 21:1-6, John 11:32-44
Picture by Rubi_Rose at Deviant Art
I’m going to begin my sermon today with a confession. I really was not looking forward to this sermon today. Normally, I love preaching. I love the research, the prep, the writing, the delivery, all of it. But not this time. No, today is All-Saints Day, the day on which we remember those of our friends and family who have passed on. Today is a day when I do not want to remember. Today is a day when I would rather forget.
A wise person recently told me that “It is human nature to want to avoid feelings and experiences that make us uncomfortable.” Uncomfortable is a bit of an understatement for how I feel. This time last year, this very Sunday in fact, I was grieving the death of my friend Dan. Since then, we, as a church community have said farewell to three beloved members (Suzie, Millie, and Don). Death lurks frightening close to one more member of our community as well as one prominent member of the New Freedom church that I’ve befriended. A old friend of mine from high school recently passed away after a sudden illness. Death, it seems, is all around me, all around us. And no, I don’t want to remember that.
It’s unsettling. It’s frightening. It’s sad. It’s all these things and more. I suspect I am not alone in wrestling with these feelings. In addition to the examples we share in common, I am certain many of you have other names, other people that you’ve known and cared about, who have succumbed to death’s embrace in recent times.
But as tempting as it is to forget, we cannot nor should we. Those same uncomfortable feelings do not allow that luxury and it would be a disservice to these people and their impact on our lives to erase them from our memories even if it were possible. They were, for a time, a part of our lives. They made a difference in some way. They mattered and they matter still.
So what then are we to do on this All-Saints Day?
If we must remember, then how? The ancient traditions of the Church give us guidance in that regard. What was it that made them special? You see, that’s a question the Church has asked of its own for generation upon generation. Our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters have saturated the calendar with days of remembrance for saints of all stripes. Men with names like Patrick and Valentinius and Aquinas. Women like Mary, Teresa of Avilla, and others. Why are these people important? Well, they mattered and they matter still.
They mattered because they had an impact of the lives of others. They made their lives an example to follow. They cared about others. They taught the truths of the Gospel. Now we may not know all their stories. There are so many of them, in fact, that only most learned of scholars know them all. But we don’t need to, because we know other stories. The stories of the people who mattered to us.
Stories like Millie’s love of her family. Stories of Suzie little wink and how she was always concerned for others. Stories of Don’s strength and compassion, his love of music, and willingness to risk all to save others. Stories of their courage and care. Stories of their faith and how they held fast even in the darkest episodes of their lives.
At Suzie’s funeral, just one week or so ago, I asked a hypothetical question. If she was here now, what would she say to us? What would Millie say? Or Don? What would Dan or Barry or any of those others that we’ve lost say to us now?
It’s not hard to imagine. They would say to appreciate God’s gifts: the life that we have, the people that we love. Embrace the joy that we are given. They would point to the promises of God. That where Christ is, we will be also one day. That God intends to bless the whole world. That it is finished and God’s victory is assured.
The width and breadth of Scripture attests to these truths, but we have also seen people who have lived it. People whose journey in this world reflected what they believed, the truths that they trusted in. In some ways, that is a far more powerful witness to God than words written thousands of years ago. There is an old saying. That “You may be the only Bible people ever read.” How many Bibles have we read in the lives of those who mattered most to us? What a witness they have been.
Today’s Scripture readings are familiar to any of us who have attended even one funeral in a Lutheran church. They are the standard appointed texts for the funerary rite. But they speak to the truths that we have seen lived out in the example of three of our community and so many others that we’ve encountered in our lives. They tell us that Christ has won. They tell us that death has no real power over him or any of us. They tell us there will be a day when our mourning will turn to dancing and celebration.
We don’t just have to hear it. We’ve seen it. We have been given a gift in the lives of those we love. A witness, a testimony to the truths of these passages, made real in flesh and blood by people we’ve known and cared for. That is what this day is really about. It’s about all the ways our lives reflect the one who came among us to set us free from sin and death. It’s about the Bible our lives proclaim to others and the Bible we’ve read through those we’ve loved. Amen.
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