“Since We Are Surrounded”
1 Corinthians 15:40-43, 54-55
Ephesians 1:15-21
Hebrews 12:1-2
This is the 16th All Saints Sunday I’ve celebrated here with you at First Church Amherst, and I’m pretty sure that never in our time together has this day been infused with so much death.
Oh, we’ve had years where we’ve lost more beloved church members than we have this year—and each and every loss leaves a gaping hole in our hearts. And many of us here have, over the past year, lost partners and parents, grandparents and siblings, other relatives and friends, even—worst of all—children.
But I don’t think we’ve ever marked this day at a time of so much death in the world, almost all of it violent.
It is hard to wrap our heads, much less our hearts, around the numbers: Some 1,400 Israelis killed by Hamas, almost all of them civilians; more than seven thousand Palestinians killed in Gaza, almost all of them civilians and roughly 40 percent of them children. Add to that 18 people in Maine just out for a good time, and 27 killed by a hurricane in Acapulco.
That’s a lot of very unnatural death in just three weeks. It is all but impossible to comprehend the heartbreaking scale of it all—until we consider that each person killed by war, gun violence, or climate change was, to their family and friends, an entire world. A lifetime of connection and memories and love. That’s at least eight thousand four hundred forty-five families that have been ripped apart. Add to that the families and friends of more than 200 Israelis being held hostage by Hamas.
And God’s heart breaks again and again.
Life is precious, and life is fleeting. Life is the most basic and most important of God’s gifts, and yet humanity, created in the image of the Creator of All Life, sometimes shows little to no regard for life.
Thank God that All Saints Day invites us to celebrate life and love and eternal light. We may feel a renewed grief when we focus on the lives of those beloveds no longer with us, but we also he thank God for their precious lives and remember that they are still with us in spirit and truth. They are with us in every memory and dream, every tear shed and story told. Their love strengthens us when we remember that they now live in the heart of God and that God’s love is with us always in more ways than we can count.
So on this death-drenched All Saints Sunday, in this precious moment when we have before us photographs of our beloveds and will soon name those in that great cloud of witnesses who gather with Christ and with us around the Communion Table, I want to be clear:
All Saints is not about death; it is about life. Our faith is not about the after-life; it is about the fullness of life in each moment of this life—life as our creator intended it to be, or, as Jesus put it: life abundant, life fulfilled, life in connection and community, life lived with and for others. And living fully as beloved children of God means, among other things, living into the certain truth that we are connected to all people, not only now but for all time, whether they are still here in body or have gone on to glory.
Our faith encourages us to live in the light and love of those who have gone before us. And so we remember and celebrate our saints on All Saints Day.
There are the official or should-be official saints, among them Mary Magdalene, apostle to the apostles; Francis of Assisi, lover of the poor and diseased, preacher to wild animals, and repairer of the church; Teresa of Avila, reformer of the church who summoned believers to mystical union with Christ through prayer; Howard Thurman, follower of the Jesus who stood with all who lived with their backs against the wall; Martin Luther King Jr., drum major for justice and prophet of transforming love; Dorothy Day, community builder and prophet of mercy and nonviolence; Oscar Romero, courageous pastor and martyr of El Salvador’s church of the poor.
Take a moment to run down your own roll call of saints: the people who loved you into being, showed you how to live, and mentored or inspired you along the way. Consider how the lives of these dear ones pointed you to God’s love, how they were instruments of God’s healing and grace in your life—whether or not they knew of or believed in such a thing.
Give thanks for all the ways your saints walk with you still, whispering in your ear when you’re afraid, cheering you on when you feel like giving up, reminding you what life is about when it’s all you can do to put one foot in front of the other.
Consider what makes them saints for you. I would guess that your saints, like mine, were not perfect, were not what most of us would consider pious or prophetic or super-human. Nor were the heroes of our faith. Consider Abraham the wife-dealer, Moses the murderer, Jacob the betrayer, Rahab the so-called harlot, Ruth the dis-obeyer, Esther the complacent, David the adulterer and murderer, Peter the denier, and Paul the persecutor.
Saints are made, not born, and the only prerequisites are an open heart and a willing spirit. Realize that you, too, are living into sainthood. Remember that sainthood, like salvation, is a gift not earned but bestowed, that it is a product of God’s goodness, not ours.
If we are willing, all of us are travelers on the road to wholeness and oneness with God. We make the road by walking together, and together—by God’s grace, through God’s transforming Spirit and, with the encouragement of that great cloud of witnesses, we are building the realm of God. The way of Jesus, though it leads to a cross, is the path to life abundant and a love that is stronger than death.
As I’ve said before, none of us can know for certain what happens when someone dies. But I’ve accompanied enough people through the dying process to believe there is something—and, more important, someone—on the other side of the veil. I’ve heard enough deathbed visions to think that while death takes our beloveds from us, it may reunite them with dear ones who’ve gone on before. Dear ones who are also with us, even now.
Finally, beloveds, take heart. Know not only that your beloveds are with God and with you even now, but that our faith tells us that means something. Our scriptures say not only that we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, but that this should make a difference in how we live. Since we are surrounded by love- and life-everlasting, since we are surrounded by mercy and grace, since we are surrounded by the light of the saints who have gone on before us.
Since what?
Since we trust that that our beloveds are living in God, we can receive both comfort and courage. Since we trust that our dear ones are yet alive in spirit, we need not lose heart, though we be drowning in grief, struggling with life’s challenges, despairing over the violence of the world, or confronting the certainty of our own death. Since we are surrounded by heavenly cheerleaders, we can trust that death is not of God and death does not have the last word.
Beloveds, both heaven and earth are filled with the light of the saints who have gone on before us. So let us lay aside every burden and let every hurt be healed. Let us run with perseverance and joy the race of life that is set before us, looking to Jesus, our brother and friend, who gave himself fully to love.
And let us live fully, in love and in hope.
