Let Us Remember-November 6 2016 Sermon

On this most holy of days, All Saints Sunday, we have gathered to worship Almighty God who has received our friends, family, neighbors, and brothers and sisters in Christ into eternal life. And we give thanks for the life of each of the departed, those who have died this past year, and some decades ago. In their own ways, each one of them taught us the depth of faith in Christ and how to live with compassion for the downtrodden, a zeal for justice, and an unrelenting love and hope for the world.

While we give thanks for their ministry, their love for us, and indelible memories, this day brings along with it, a tremendous amount of grief. Among us, we have lost spouses, parents, grandparents, children, grandchildren, and lifelong friends.

“Many of you have come here today to honor someone you have loved who has died. Your hearts are heavy with the loss of someone dear. Many of us have our own beloved dead to remember this day. People who we’d frankly rather still have here in this room as a living person and not as a photo on a white table at church the first Sunday of November. We’d rather be standing behind them in line for communion than adding them to the litany of saints.”1 (http://www.patheos.com/blogs/nadiabolzweber/2013/11/778/)

We wish that we didn’t add Jason Utley and Marcellus Newsome to this year’s list, two of our neighbors that cancer took from us far too soon. And there are many others we have named in prayer these past few months that now rest and are free from suffering in the presence of Jesus Christ. A year from now on this day, there will be others we name; we will give thanks for the way they walked through this world with small acts of love and compassion, opening a window into God’s kingdom for us. We will remember them along with all those over the ages who have been raised into new life through the waters of baptism and gathered together to bless elements from the earth that signify Christ’s love for the world.

This past week, I spent time thinking back over the formative points in my story and giving thanks for those who nurtured the growth of my faith. The names of all four of my grandparents were read just moments ago so that part of my story could be woven into the cloud of saints this church honors and remembers each year. All four of them had passed into everlasting life by the time I was five and so I don’t remember much about them. But every day I’m in my office and I glance at the baptismal certificate hanging on my wall, I remember that I was baptized by Reverend Brant Hayes at Antioch United Methodist Church. I remember the men of Antioch dressed in their suits standing out front before Sunday school giving hard candy to the kids. I remember my Sunday school teacher teaching in a small corner room of that white frame country church that doubled as the music library. That church was the faith community that nurtured my grandparents, Anthony and Isabelle, and promised to nurture me and so many others in the love of Jesus Christ. Saints eternal and saints among us.

And Rueben. He was perhaps one of the wisest and reverent souls I ever met. I had seen him in worship nearly every Sunday. He sat half way back on the lectern side of the sanctuary, on a pew accompanied by his wife, daughters, and their families. He might nod affirmingly in the middle of a sermon or speak a profound word at the back doors after church was over. I was more familiar with his writings on spirituality, prayer, and Christian life, one titled ‘Three Simple Rules’ that is used by Methodists around the world as they seek to grow in love of God and neighbor. It was in 2010 that I sought out Rueben’s counsel. As a retired pastor I figured he could provide some perspective and counsel to a young seminarian. This past week, I read back through some of those emails we exchanged and his words are more true, meaningful, and encouraging than the day he wrote them.

Even in death, his faith and writing calls us to life with Christ so that we can go forth into the world, to give ourselves for others. From the inner most part of his heart, he knew that God had called him to lead his neighbors in growing their love for god and he did that work most fruitfully.

“”I now believe that God calls and sends everyone who responds to the call of Jesus to ‘Follow me.’ Some may sense a call to a specific task or vocation. However, the highest calling anyone will ever receive comes first, ‘Follow me.’ When we say yes to that call we offer ourselves to God as completely as we are able and God accepts and blesses the offering we make in remarkable ways.”2 (Rueben Job, Life Stories)

For small acts of daily love and his written encouragement and counsel, there are many around the world that count Rueben among the great cloud of witnesses resting in the eternal presence of God. Weeks before he passed from this life into life eternal, Rueben and his wife shared many of the beloved items that had accompanied him throughout a lifetime of ministry. The stoles he preached in regularly and took to the gravesides of the saints he commended to God’s love and care. The hymnal from which he prayed the Great Thanksgiving blessing common bread into a sacred meal for the church. The robes and stoles that hung from his neck as he led the church in praise of Almighty God. This robe I wear each week is one of the most cherished possessions in my life. It is a tangible mantle that Rueben handed to me when his life neared its end.

In writing to the church in Ephesus, Paul, extends pastoral greetings to them recalling the great promises of God’s ministry in Jesus the Christ. He reminds the church that the presence of God’s Spirit is one thing that is inherited from Jesus Christ. Also, power to reflect the actions of God’s grace is given to the church. The same power that is given to the living body of Christ, the church, is the power that restored Jesus Christ to life. In its entirety, Paul’s letter to the church in Ephesus is encouragement for the body of Christ to remain unified and to imitate the love and grace God has for the world.

We are heirs to God’s promises just as those early followers of Christ in Ephesus and Jerusalem and Corinth. Time has not diminished the power of God working for good in the world. The promises of God that Jesus taught to the crowds on the Galilean seashore are for us as well. The power of God that restored Jesus Christ to life is the power that enlivens our worship and sends us forth from this place to claim that evil, injustice, and oppression have no real standing. Through the timeless body of Christ, we share a connection to Mary who rushed to the tomb and recognized her Lord. We share a connection with Peter, the disciple who both knows the identity of Christ one minute and is confused the next, but Christ built the universal church through him anyway. We share a connection with Stephen, who lost his life because he was bold enough to suggest that God who gave life to Jesus Christ was the same God that established a covenant with Abraham and Sarah.

We share a connection with Martin Luther whose bold declaration, s ola fide, faith alone, opened up life with God across the ages. We are brothers and sisters in Christ with Oscar Romero, gunned down while celebrating the Eucharist in El Salvador. We are kinfolk with Martin, Dietrich, Maximilian, Claudia, and Lydia.

Our faith and ministry in the name of Jesus Christ stands squarely on the lives of these saints who have passed into everlasting life.

I invite you to close your eyes, to be still in your mind and heart and to remember. Who was it that gave you the first glimpse of God’s love for the world?…

Who met you at the door the first time you walked into a community of faith looking for a love larger than yourself?…

Who taught you the ways of God?…

Who cooked, washed dishes, and did laundry with such love that it was as if God was doing it?…

Who has a healing touch?…

Who do you admire for their unwavering sense of God’s justice yearning for the least, last, and the lost?…

Perhaps it was your grandmother walking you and your siblings to church on Sunday morning. Maybe a coworker whose quiet demeanor doesn’t lead on how generous she is with her time serving as a reading tutor at the local elementary school. Probably a parent whose love was evident even in the most mundane daily chores and tasks. Maybe the man you don’t know that well but asks the deepest questions of the heart in Bible study.

May these saints, living or resting in God’s eternal presence, show us the fullness of God’s kingdom, teach us the ways of justice, strengthen our resolve to be peacemakers, and enliven us to go into the world bearing the love and grace of God in Jesus Christ wherever we go.

Let us remember. Amen.