Preaching text: None
The first thing I noticed when I sat down to prepare my sermon for this week was that the assigned texts for All Saints Sunday are the same as the “recommended” texts for your typical funeral service: Isaiah 25, Revelation 21, and John 11. Make the Psalm one earlier (i.e. Psalm 23 instead of 24) and you’ve got the full set.
That got me thinking that maybe I could approach today as if it were a funeral service, a celebration of life in the midst of death. As I reviewed several of my old funeral sermons, I noticed an obvious pattern. They’re all pretty much about the same thing: a recognition of all the wondrous gifts that God gives to us, particularly in light of the presence of death.
The most obvious of those gifts is, of course, life itself. We are given how ever many years we’re given here on this Earth, our time to find a purpose and make an impact on the world and on the lives of others. Most of us really don’t realize that our life is a gift to others, that God gives us to them. The people we impact by being who we are and doing what we do are often unknown to us, mostly because we just don’t think about it. And yet, despite that, their lives would be radically different if not for us.
We talk all the time about the graces that we are given. Not so much about the grace that we are for others.
The funeral service may be the only place we do that. It’s full of language about thanking God for giving our loved ones to us, for remembering them for the impact they’ve had on us, for laughing at the good times they gave us, and so much more. It’s in that moment, when they are gone, when we realize just how much they truly mattered to us.
I wonder, as we list the names today of those who’ve gone before us, those who’ve died recently and those whose memory we still carry years later, did they know? Did they know what they meant to us? Did they know what impact they had? Did they know how much they mattered? Some certainly did. Others, sadly, no.
One of the other graces I speak of in the funeral service is, also of course, the other life that God gives us: eternal life through his son, Jesus Christ. The one who lived, died, and defeated death to bring us all into eternity with him. There is a side effect that wondrous gift in that, not only is it something we receive, but it is also given to those we love. The parting with these lost ones is to be only temporary.
Now I’ve heard critiques of that sort of preaching, that sometimes funeral sermons are more about how we’ll see Grandma in the afterlife instead of Jesus. I can understand that, but I’m not sure God minds. That is, after all, another gift, another grace. It is a feature, not a bug, as we tech nerds sometimes say. After all, God loves us and God loves our loved ones. It was a gift for us to come together the first time. It will also be a gift for us to come together again in the kingdom. If it was a wonderful gift the first time, why not give it again?
For some of us, that might be our second chance. To say what we never got to say in this life, all the things that we regretted holding back on. We may find however that it’s not necessary. With all the gifts and graces that God gives us here on Earth, it’s hard to imagine that it all stops with eternity. No, I think one of the things God gives us in the life beyond death is the chance to see what impact we’ve had on those we left behind.
Christian singer Ray Boltz had a wondrous song many years ago about what might happen when we come to eternity. The song is called “Thank You.” A man has a dream of going to heaven and meeting a series of people who were changed by the life of that man and his Christian witness. I can see God doing that, yet another gift to us: showing us how much of a difference we made in the lives of those who loved us.
Part of me looks forward to that. I know in my life now I continue to be delighted by the person my daughter Emily is growing up to be. It will be fun to watch all the generations of my family yet to be and what they accomplish on this world. Another song I love is from the classic musical Carousel, “You’ll Never Walk Alone.” None of us ever do.
The Scriptures tell us of the great cloud of witnesses who look down on us from above. How many of our loved ones are among them, keeping tabs on us, delighting in the person we are and the impact we are having. Another gift, one of so many that God gives.
And, of course, God gives us the gift of himself. Not only do generations past walk with us, but God goes with us too. From the moment of our baptism and probably before, his spirit rests upon us. No matter what we face in life, even death itself, he is always with us.
Death is a frightening thing. It is the one true unknown we all face in life. We do not know what lies beyond, if anything. We believe certainly that there is more than just this world and belief is a powerful thing. God has promised so much, more gifts than we can count. We’ve already received from him so much and there is more to come. This gives me hope. It gives me confidence. Life is more than we know and what we don’t know is not to be feared. God is with us, showering us with graces uncounted. The life of those who went before is a drop in the bucket of the love he is eager to show us. With that, what can death truly do but bring me, bring us, into the presence of that love? Reunite us with those we love and miss so terribly? Graces uncounted. Amen.
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