Revelation 7:9-17; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12
Today is set aside annually as the Sunday on which we honor those
whom we call saints, in other words, all who believe in Jesus.
First, a bit of explanation. In the Roman Catholic Church, November 1 is observed as All Saints, which honors martyrs and officially recognized saints, and November 2 is observed as All Souls, a day to pray for deceased believers to be released from purgatory.
After the Protestant Reformation, all believers are saints –
whether in heaven or on earth – so all our deceased loved ones are remembered and
honored on All Saints Day.
… Today’s texts help us recognize and honor our deceased
loved ones and share our grief with others who are also grieving.
The writer of 1 John calls us children of God. That makes us family, kin with each other for 2,000 years, kin with the ancient martyrs and believers, and kin with those who grew ill and died over the centuries from an assortment of plagues and wars. And we are kin with those who died too young, and kin with those who died of old age.
We join together as kin in sharing God’s love with each
other, and we join together in sharing sadness and trouble with each other.
Grief shared is easier to bear, and this day is set aside to help us grieve
together the death of loved ones, and to be comforted by the caring hearts of
others.
… I have heard people say the book of Revelation is “scary
and impossible to understand and people shouldn’t ever read it.” Yes, it is a
challenge to understand. But the Lutheran understanding of the book is that it is
both a religious protest against the political situation under Roman rule, and
an encouragement to stay faithful to Jesus in spite of the possibility of
persecution. Yes, there are some fantastic, terrible beings and puzzling events
in Revelation, and there are also lovely, glorious scenes like the one in our
first reading.
The vision John of Patmos sees is of God seated on a throne
surrounded by a multitude of believers. These believers have been through the “ordeal”:
they have been arrested, tortured, and killed because they refused to worship
Roman gods, and would only worship Jesus.
Many Christians in the Middle East and northern Africa are descendants
of the very first generations of believers. So, today, we are kin with believers
in Jesus in the US, in Europe, in Mexico and Brazil, in China and Korea, in Egypt
and Ethiopia and Cameroon, and in Israel, Palestine and Lebanon. We are united
in honoring our saints and sharing our grief on this All-Saints Sunday.
… The Gospel reading is the familiar passage we call the
Beatitudes. Jesus teaches us that we are blessed when we are poor in spirit,
when we are meek, when we strive for justice and mercy. Especially appropriate
for today is the blessing for those who mourn.
Today, as we remember those we have loved and whom we now miss, we are comforted by our shared grief. Some of us experience fresh grief, for loved ones who died recently. Some of us experience old grief, for loved ones long gone but still missed. We light candles, wanting the light of our loved ones to shine again for a brief time.
… Some of us remember with joy those who have inspired us, who
were living saints in our lives. One of those for me was Pam. She was a member
of one of my first congregations. While most of the members were supportive and
shared my vision, there were a few who were critical and constantly voiced their
opinions.
Pam was ill from a medical accident and homebound. The first few times I visited, she welcomed me with hot water and a choice of tea bags, and a plate of homemade cookies. It was important to her to be the host. After a few more visits, she asked me to carry the snacks. I assured her that I would be happy to visit her even when the time came for her to be in bed with tubes and there were no snacks.
She is one of my saints because when I visited, she gave a
brief update on her own health, then asked about the congregation. I usually
just talked about the things that were going on, who was ill or recovered, etc.
She often asked questions when she wanted to know more. One day when I visited,
she guessed things had been rough for me. She knew the people well, and
listened with compassion as I shared the struggles I was facing. Then she asked
what she could do and did it.
She is one of my saints because she put the needs of others before
her own failing health. She was a caring person just when I needed one,
offering compassion and justice at the same time. She made me feel like family,
like kin. I was blessed to be in her presence.
… We all have those for whom we give thanks, who have been
saints for us. Some of them are birth-family relatives, and some of them are
adopted family, but kin just the same. So, this week, I invite you to reflect
on the saints in your lives. Give thanks for them, tell them they are important
if they are still living, and seek to be a saint for those around you. Amen
