All Saints Sunday November 6, 2016

All Saints Sunday—at least the way I observe it—is a combination of both All Saints and All Souls. A day to remember the “great cloud of witnesses” who surround us. People whose lives were so extraordinary that we remember their names even now, hundreds, even thousands of years later. Saints like Augustine of Hippo and Ambrose of Milan, Catherine of Siena and Elizabeth of Hungary.  But also people whose lives were quiet, whose names have been forgotten, but who lived with just as much faithfulness and integrity, and who now live in the glorious light of God. It’s also a day to remember people who were dear to us who have died in the past year, people like Ethel (AMEN!) and Jeannie, Sulo and John, who join that invisible congregation and smile to us from “the other side of the veil.”

They come from a variety of backgrounds—some were rich, some were poor. Some were utterly powerless against the earthly powers that persecuted them, and stood in opposition by giving their lives as martyrs. Others were kings and queens, prime ministers and politicians who used their influence and power to change the system to better reflect the vision of the kingdom Jesus so often preached.

No two looked alike, their very uniqueness is part of what helped them to be saints.

None of them made it their goal to be honored as saints—they simply did what needed to be done in the moment, out of their love for the God who created them, the Savior who redeemed them, and the Holy Spirit who empowered them to do what needed to be done.

It helps to remember that being a saint isn’t easy. Rich or poor, powerless or powerful, their lives were hard, filled with challenges, dangers, doubts.

To be a saint, you have to find blessedness in the midst of suffering. You have to love your enemies and pray for their well being. You have to turn the other cheek—which is not about being a doormat, by the way. It’s about refusing to meet violence with more violence. You have to be generous to everyone who asks, not just those you consider ‘deserving.’ Generous with your belongings, yes, but more importantly, generous with your love, your patience, your forgiveness.

Saints are not just those good and holy people over there. They are not just the people in the stained glass windows. The saints of God, to quote one of my favorite hymns as a child, the saints of God are just folk like me—or us.  People who do their best to be the people God created them to be. People who bring food for the food pantry or help out at the community meal. People who visit their neighbors when they’re ill or lonely. People who pray for someone they don’t know because they have absolute faith that it will make a difference. People who do to others as they would have done to them. Someone reminded me this week that while some version of “The Golden Rule” is found in most religions, it is only in Christianity that it is expressed in the positive. Other religions say, “don’t do to other people the things you would not want done to you.” But Jesus switched it up, made it active. Treat other people the way you want to be treated.

I think the current political atmosphere (two more days, people—just two more days!) would be much less ugly if everyone remembered that simple rule.

Saints are people who love their neighbors as themselves—even the neighbors who disagree with them. Especially the neighbors who disagree with them. It’s easy to love the people who are lovable. The mark of a saint is being able to extend the same love to those who are not. One of the great joys of my week this week was to hear someone who has been quick to be critical of one of the presidential candidates say, in all sincerity and humility, “I have to remind myself that God loves [them], and so I have to at least try.”

Saints are people who rejoice at every tiny sign of God’s presence and activity in the world, and resist the paralyzing discouragement that comes when those signs seem most absent. In a culture that said prosperity, power and health were signs of God’s blessing, Jesus preaches the beatitudes, these statements of blessing, to the people on the margins, the poor, the powerless. He says they are blessed, and that those who seem to have it all are on borrowed time.

Saints don’t settle for easy answers or quick fixes—they dig deep for the truth. They live in the ambiguity without losing hope. Saints share the Good News of God’s reconciling love with every person they encounter, and hope that even the most hostile will one day experience the incredible freedom and power that comes from being open to that love.

Saints are so aware of the deeper hope that lives beyond the suffering and death of the moment that they hear those words of blessing from Jesus and know that they are TRUE.

In this time when bad behavior gets you the spotlight, look for the saints. Don’t let yourselves be drawn into arguments about which candidate is worse; look for the saints. They are out there, quietly doing the work of the kingdom. They are in here, too—just take a look around.

As I read through those beatitudes once more, and in the pause between each one, I invite you to name (aloud or in your hearts) those saints of God who have shown you the truth of them.

Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.

Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled.

Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.

Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven.

My prayer is that you truly feel that cloud of witnesses surrounding you, upholding and encouraging you, giving you the strength to count yourself among those most blessed saints and then go out into the world and live a life worthy of the inheritance we share with them.

Amen.