All Saints Day has its
origins as a festival of the church to commemorate all believers who have died
in the faith, both those known to history and those not. The modern church, in
its practice, often acknowledges those of its membership who have passed away
in the previous year.
While I certainly can see
the benefit of such a commemoration, I’m also keen to take the name of this day
at face value: All Saints Day. If we understand the world “saint” in the way it
has come to be understood in Protestant traditions like our own, then this day
must become a commemoration not just of those who have died, but also of
living. Of ourselves, as the saints of the church of this
generation.
But, you might argue, I’m
not a saint, certainly not in the sense of those great saints of past history.
My counterargument would be to ask a simple question. What is it that made the
saints whose names we know so well so special? Peter, Paul,
Matthew, Luke, etc. What was it that they did to make their names
remembered for centuries?
Well, for one thing, many of
them had a special relationship with Jesus Christ. Some of them were among his
companions here on Earths. Others were disciples, friends, and followers of
those same companions. Paul got knocked off his horse by a shaft of light from
Jesus. None of us has any such connection to Jesus.
Well, there’s some truth to
that. None of us have ever spoken to Jesus in the way that Peter or John would
have, face-to-face, person-to-person. But to say that we lack a special
relationship with Jesus Christ because of that is a bit of a stretch. That
relationship is foundational to our faith and we all have it, just not in
exactly the same way those saints of old had it. Actually, each of us has it in
a different way even from the neighbor who sits next to you in these pews.
But some things are the
same. Each of us works at that relationship just as we would a relationship
with a friend or a spouse or a family member. We come to this place, this
church, to pray and to worship, to talk to God, to pour our hearts and our
minds to him. We do that also in private moments of prayer and devotion. Well, Jesus
also works at that relationship. He comes to us in the words of Scripture,
hidden behind the lyrics of hymns, and hopefully in sermons like this one. He
also comes as he promised in the bread and the wine of communion. He comes in
those moments of peace, moments of courage, times when we find ourselves
stronger and calmer than we ever imagined. If this relationship is what defines
a saint, then we are all surely saints.
But those saints of old also
did remarkable things. They healed the sick. Performed
miracles. Changed the world.
Yes, but what is healing?
What is a miracle? Are we expecting something flashy? Poof! The
lame walk. The blind see. Such things can happen, I believe. But is that
all a miracle can be?
In the seven years I have
served here as pastor and leader of this church community, I have seen
countless miracles. I have seen sickness overcome. I have seen hearts and minds
change. I have watched faith deepen. And these happenings begin with you. They
begin with the loyalty you show one another. They begin with the kindnesses you
express to one another. When one is sick, there is prayer and support. When
there is a death, we rally around the grieving with arms of comfort.
Last Sunday I told the story
of a man who questioned whether his life made a difference. At the conclusion
of that story, I said that anyone who tells and/or lives the story of Christ
does make a difference. Those words were not just true for the characters of
that story, they are true for all of us. The lives you
have lived have been the means by which Jesus has made a real difference in
others. You have performed miracles without even knowing it. We have changed the
world in ways we may never know on this side of the veil, but change it we
have.
None of us live in true
isolation. The things we do can and often do have an impact far and beyond what
we expect. For example, there is a young man who attends the youth café on
Friday nights. Comes from a broken home, did not attend church. Because of his
experience with his Christian peers and with pastors and other adults, he has
begun attending worship every Sunday. Pastor Jim says he’s almost never missed.
I participate in that café in part because it has been the prayer of this
community that there be ministry to the young people
of this mountaintop. You have supported the café by supporting the Ministerial
Association. And those of our youth who attend, you’re making a difference in a
very direct way. You probably know who I’m talking about. But there is one life
that you, either directly or through the proxy of others you support, have
changed for the better.
If making a difference in
the lives of others, if bringing healing and wholeness and transformation, if
these things are what define a saint, then again, we qualify.
This is our day. It may
prove a humbling thing to see the simple efforts of our hands, our words, and
our hearts be taken by Christ and made into something
far greater than we ever imagined. But that’s what Jesus does. He uses us,
whoever and whatever we are, to transform the world, to change lives, to make a
difference. We saints are a part of God’s plan for saving the world, in ways
we’ve never imagined. But then, when I think about it, somehow I suspect a few
humble fishermen, a tax collector, a Pharisee, and a few other ordinary folk
from first century