"God's Revolution of Love." An Introductory Meditation on the Palm and Passion Sunday scripture texts.

"God's Revolution of Love"

An Introductory Meditation on Palm and Passion Sunday"

Luke 19:28-40; Luke 22 & 23

            A few minutes ago, we heard the story how Jesus entered into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey on that first Palm Sunday, in a dramatic act of subversive political theater. Jesus enters into Jerusalem like a king, challenging the authority of every earthly kind and even of Caesar himself.[1]

            Can you imagine what this must have been like for Jesus’ disciples? Jesus had told them what to expect. Three times he had said plainly, “We are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written by the prophets about the Son of Man will be fulfilled. He will be delivered over to the Gentiles. They will mock him, insult him, and spit on him. They will flog him and kill him. On the third day, he will rise again.” But I doubt they understood fully what they would witness later in the week.

            There are layers of subversion in today’s scripture readings. Psalm 118 is a psalm of Passover, of escape from slavery. It’s a psalm of liberation from oppression. It celebrates God’s empowerment of people who were once exploited and dehumanized. It praises the complete upending of power structures that enrich a dominant ruler or class at the expense of those who are exploited and marginalized.[2]

        The crowd comes out joyfully to meet Jesus, strewing their palm branches and spreading their cloaks on the road. They pour into the street to welcome their king, riding on a young donkey—a beast of burden.     

             On the other side of the city there was another parade.  Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor of the region, was entering the city with his cavalry and foot soldiers, as he did every Passover.   There was often trouble in Jerusalem around the time of the Passover—a festival that celebrated the Jewish people’s liberation from an earlier empire, when Moses led them out of Egypt.   So, the governor brought in extra troops to reinforce the troops that were permanently stationed near the Temple, as a show of power and force.          

            The story of Palm Sunday, as Luke tells it, draws on Old Testament prophecies to show Jesus as a messianic king. Six centuries earlier, the prophet Zechariah had proclaimed a messianic vision of a king like David returning to the throne in Jerusalem, and Luke uses this imagery in describing Jesus’ procession into Jerusalem.  Zechariah says, “Lo, your king comes to you, triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.[3]  

            The people would have recognized this imagery. So, when Jesus came riding into Jerusalem, it must have felt to the peasants in the crowd as though they were on the threshold of an exciting new era. By entering Jerusalem in this way, Jesus claims to be the legitimate king.  This is a counter-demonstration that challenges the authority of imperial rule over Jerusalem.

            In Zechariah’s prophecy, the new king would banish war from the land— no more chariots, war-horses, or military weapons.  Jesus’s procession deliberately countered what was happening on the other side of the city.

            Pilate’s procession embodied the power, glory, and violence of the empire that ruled the world, the Roman Empire that exercised power through military domination, using the cutting-edge military technologies of the day.

            Jesus’s procession embodied an alternative vision-- the kingdom of God.  His victory will be won through humility and nonviolence and love. Jesus’ humble claim to a peaceful kingship was radically counter-cultural. It was politically subversive. This contrast— between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Caesar— is central to the gospel story--   to the story of Jesus and the early church.

            Jesus enters the city and proceeds to the Temple. Now, in that time, the Temple wasn’t just a religious center, but also the place where Judean society interfaced with the Roman Empire. As Robert Williamson points out, it was the job of the chief priests to collect taxes as tribute for Rome and to keep Judea functioning smoothly as a loyal Roman province.  “Through the Temple, religious elites kept the Empire operating smoothly. They provided a theological rationale for the political and economic domination of the Roman Empire, which enriched the upper classes at the expense of the poor.”[4]

            According to Luke’s Gospel, Jesus returned to the Temple on the following day to overturn the tables and cast out the money changers, protesting the Temple’s collaboration with an Empire that enriched the few and oppressed the many.

            In a few moments, we are going to hear the story of Christ's Passion, as told by Luke.  Today and this Holy Week, may we be startled and challenged into seeing God’s Reign afresh, as the subversive, empire-challenging reality that it is.

            Following Jesus on the way of the cross, we need to choose. Will we collaborate with the Empire?  Or will we choose to participate fully in God’s revolution of love, which promises abundant life for all?  If we see injustice and evil in the world around us, will we walk the way of humility and non-violence and love to resist the that injustice, trusting in God’s abundance and faithfulness?

            The good news we hear in the Holy Week story is that God emptied God's self for the sake of every beloved creature, including you and me-- because it's God's very nature to love us that radically.  We know what God's love is like by seeing it in the self-emptying servanthood and humility and self-giving on the cross! 

            So, let us go there and be with our Lord in his suffering and in his triumph.  See his great love for you...   and renew your great love for Him.

            Listen for the good news:

At this point, we heard the story of Christ’s Passion, as told by Luke the Evangelist, in chapters 22 and 23. http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=Luke+22

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

April 14, 2019

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[1] David Lose, Palm / Passion Sunday A.  http://www.davidlose.net/2017/04/palmpassion-sunday-a/

[2] Lindsey Paris-Lopez, “Coronation Before Crucifixion: The Ominious, Subversive Politics of Palm Sunday.” https://www.ravenfoundation.org/coronation-before-crucifixion-the-ominous-subversive-politics-of-palm-sunday-gvbs-year-c/

[3] Zechariah 9:9

[4] https://robertwilliamsonjr.com/palm-sunday-time-trump/

"What Should We Do?" A Sermon on Luke 3:7-18 from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on the Third Sunday of Advent.

John the Baptist (an icon from the Orthodox tradition)

"What Should We Do?"

Luke 3:7-18

The third Sunday of Advent has traditionally been known as Joy Sunday.   That’s why we lit the rose candle today and heard the apostle Paul urging the church to “Rejoice always and in everything.”

            Yet, as I meditated on the scripture passages for this Sunday, I kept remembering how painful a season this can be for many people-- people who are lonely, people who are grieving the loss of a loved one, people who are struggling with illness and wondering where God is in the midst of it all…  people who are depressed, people who are trying to maintain their sobriety during a season of parties… people who are too poor to be a part of the festival of extravagance the merchants would have us believe is what Christmas is all about. 

            There are people who are hungry or food insecure...or who are worrying about how they’ll pay their bills.  Then there are terrible events that have filled the headlines in recent weeks. The list could go on and on. 

            We grieve that there’s so much wrong in the world.  We’re still waiting for the kingdom of God, and we yearn for it.  We wait and hope for what we can’t yet see.

            During the weeks of Advent, we’re in a conversation with the Old Testament prophets and John the Baptizer.  In the scriptures, we hear words of consolation and of challenge.   Today, we hear John the Baptist saying to the people who came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers!  Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?  Bear fruits worthy of repentance.”               

            What do we make of this blunt talk?  Where’s the good news in it?     

            Apparently, a lot of the people who came out to hear John the Baptizer’s message did hear his message as good news.  Gospel from God.   Some of them even started to wonder whether John was the messiah they’d been waiting for. 

            Things were terribly wrong.  The people were living under the occupation of the Roman empire, and at the mercy of tyrants like Herod… or dishonest tax collectors.  Things were wrong, but they were hoping God was going to do something about it.  

            One of my colleagues suggests that when John compared people to a brood of vipers, he was saying they are like snakes curled up in hiding inside a pile of logs.  When the fire of God’s judgment comes near,  when the light of truth exposes us, we try to slink out from under God’s gaze.[1] 

            “Hey, don’t look at me!  I didn’t mess the world up!” we protest.  “I’m okay.  After all, I’m a child of Abraham.  It’s those tax collectors and Pilate and Herod that are to blame.  It’s those criminals and greedy corporate honchos and crooked politicians… or immigrants…  or [fill in the blank].  It’s those other people who are to blame for this mess-- not me!” 

            We make excuses and look for others to blame precisely because, in our heart of hearts, we know that we are not clean.  We, too, have contributed to the mess.

            I think John the Baptist is right.  “This means you,” he declares.  “Don’t even think about relying on the fact that you’re a child of Abraham…or a good Christian…or whatever, to exempt you.”

            So…how can a message like this be good news?

            I’m grateful to Richard Rohr for some new insights on John the Baptist I found in his book,  Jesus’ Plan for a New World.[2]   Father Rohr, who is a Franciscan priest, suggests that John the Baptist is probably far more important than we have realized.   The beginning of the gospels tells us that John appeared and preached in the wilderness, “proclaiming a gospel of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” 

            John “cries out in the wilderness,” radically questioning the very legitimacy of the existing religious order, and showing how religion needs to constantly reform.  The keepers of the religious status quo kept sending people out to question John.  

            When John preached a baptism of repentance and forgiveness of sins, it was revolutionary.  Jews were supposed to follow the Law—the Holiness Codes of Torah. This upstart was making it too easy to get God to love you and forgive you. 

            The people were filled with expectation.  They were questioning in their hearts, whether John might be the Messiah they were looking for.  But John was pointing to the One who would baptize with the Holy Spirit and Fire. 

            Luke's gospel tells us that, when Mary found out that she was pregnant with the Son of the Most High God, she went to visit her cousin Elizabeth.  When Mary spoke, Elizabeth's child leaped for joy in her womb.

            That child grew up to be John the Baptizer.  God called him to be a witness to the light of God, revealed in Christ.  John knew that a lot of things get in the way of receiving God's love and joy.   That's why John was preaching about getting ready for the more powerful one who was coming.   Prepare the way!  Repent! 

           

            In Charles Dickens' play, "A Christmas Carol,"  Ebenezer Scrooge is London's most notorious miser.  He's a mere shadow of the joyful person he was created to be, hunched up against the world...  stingy and suspicious.  When the Ghost of Christmas Future shows Scrooge his own grave, the reminder that he will die breaks through all the defenses and helps to put things into perspective.  He's overwhelmed with a piercing sense of remorse for how he has been living.  He repents!

            Seeing the light of truth after living in the darkness for so long can be scary.   But what follows his rebirth into new life-- is joy!

           

            This Advent, John the Baptizer comes to us, telling us that we need to change our ways.

            The message of Advent is that God in Christ is coming into the world.  In Jesus, God's Word became flesh and lived among us, full of grace and truth.   What came into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not overcome it.

            Edward Hicks was an American sign and stagecoach painter in the early nineteenth century.  He’s known almost exclusively for his many paintings of the Peaceable Kingdom. 

            One of these, entitled “The Peaceable Kingdom with Quakers Bearing Banners,” was painted during a time when tension and separation had split American Quakers into two groups.  In the background is a cluster of very somber-looking people.  But in the foreground is a depiction of the peaceable kingdom:  a leopard is lying down with a lamb.  A little child is embracing a lion. 

            Those somber-looking people in the background are connected to the peaceable kingdom by a banner that declares, “Behold, I bring you glad tidings of great joy.”  The sinuous ribbon with its beginning in the mists of eternity weaves its way through and among them, braiding them together.

            Our Christian joy and faith aren’t based solely on the evidence we see in the present-- but on the hope of the future.  Our Christian joy comes to us in our experience of God’s presence.   So, how are we called to live?

            Three times in today’s gospel lesson…  “What should we do?”   That’s a question for us today.

            What should we do, as we yearn for God’s peaceable kingdom?  What should we do, to live more fully into the reign of God? 

            I don’t have any simple answers for you today.  But I think our faith is calling us to move beyond the simple answers on either side of important issues, to listen to one another’s perspectives, and to pray together and work together, and open ourselves to the Spirit’s leading.

            One of the challenges we face today is our desire to live in safety, while responding faithfully to the needs of our neighbors near and far.  It isn’t uncommon during an electiAon season for us to hear political rhetoric that plays on our fears.  But we need to learn from history... and be guided by our faith.

            During Hitler’s rise to power in Germany, too many religious leaders and others were silent.  When fear and xenophobia prevail, there can be terrible consequences.

            Over the past few years, some of us have been thinking about historical parallels between the current debate over refugees—from Syria and now from Central America—desperate people seeking safety and refuge in the United States   and the plight of European Jews fleeing German-occupied territories on the eve of World War II. 

            Among the many who tried-- and failed—to escape Nazi persecution were Otto Frank and his family, which included his wife, Edith, and his daughters, Margot and Anne.  The Frank family visa application documents were discovered in a New Jersey warehouse in 2007. 

            As historian Richard Brietman wrote, “Otto Frank’s efforts to get his family to the United States ran afoul of restrictive American immigration policies designed to protect national security   and guard against an influx of foreigners during time of war.”[3]  And so Anne Frank and her family perished in concentration camps. 

            In contrast to those who were silent and passive during the horrors of the Holocaust, an entire town in occupied France sheltered 5,000 Jews at great risk, in a “conspiracy of goodness.” 

             In occupied France, collaborators delivered 83,000 Jews, including 10,000 children, to the Nazi death camps, and only 3,000 returned.  But the residents of Le Chambon and the surrounding area quietly took in and saved as many Jews as their entire population, who came to them for shelter and refuge. 

            The people of Le Chambon were Reformed Christians, descendants of the French Huguenots.   Motivated by their faith and remembering their own history of persecution, they welcomed the refugees and housed them in private homes, on farms, as well as in local schools.   You can read about this in the book, Lest Innocent Blood Be Shed.[4]

           

            What should we do?   What do the “fruits of repentance” look like?

            Our scriptures say in various ways that we are to orient our lives to do justice, and to love kindness, and walk humbly with God.

            This Advent, God is ready to be born in the cradle of our hearts and lives, either for the first time or as a renewed birth, as God-with-us reaches new depths within our very souls.  And this, my friends, is reason for JOY! 

            Do you remember what Ebenezer Scrooge was like when he was re-born that Christmas?  He couldn't keep his joy to himself!  He was filled with the joy of new life...   and he just had to share his joy with others!

            When we receive the JOY of Jesus Christ, we're called to proclaim the light that outshines all darkness.  We're called to carry the light out into the world    and be witnesses of the light. 

            God calls us out of darkness-- into the Light that overcomes the darkness.  Our job as we wait for Christ to come again in power and glory is to proclaim the good news of Jesus, who is the light of the world… the Christ who calls us to live lives that reflect his light!  

How shall we live?  We are called to feed the hungry…and minister to the sick… to show God’s mercy and justice in our lives.   In Matthew 25, we hear Jesus saying we will be judged by how we feed those who are hungry, how we give those who are thirsty something to drink, how we visit those whose who are imprisoned, how we welcome the stranger.”[5]   

In the words of one of my favorite hymns, we are called to “live into hope-- of captives freed...  of sight regained...  the end of greed.”[6]  We are called to live as God’s blessed peacemakers.[7]

            On this Third Sunday of Advent, there is good news—joyful news.  No matter how dark things look, we know that darkness does not have the last word.  Jesus, the Light of the world, has come and shines in the darkness.  The darkness does not and will not overcome it.

            So--  let us rejoice always.[8]  Let us live prayerful lives-- lives that show gentleness to all we meet... and embody God’s love for those who are lonely and hurting.   Let us pray without ceasing, and give thanks in everything…  for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for us.

            The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

            Come, Lord Jesus!

            Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

December 16, 2018

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[1] Mary Harris Todd, in a sermon at www.goodpreacher.com.

[2] Richard Rohr, Jesus’ Plan for a New World: The Sermon on the Mount.  (Kindle Loc 1668)

[3] https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/worldviews/wp/2015/11/24/anne-frank-and-her-family-were-also-denied-entry-as-refugees-to-the-u-s/ 

[4] Philip Hallie, Lest Innocent Blood Be Shed:  The Story of the Village of Le Chambon and How Goodness Happened There.  Harper, 1979. 

[5] Let it be noted:  there were responses to the “fill in the blanks.”  The people at Littlefield Presbyterian Church are well acquainted with Matthew 25.

[6] “Live into Hope.”  Lyrics by Jane Parker Huber.

[7] Matthew 5, in what we know as “The Beatitudes.”

[8] Philippians 4:4-7

“The Kingdom of Truth.” A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Christ the King Sunday

"The Kingdom of Truth"

John 18:33-38

            In 1925, Pope Pius XI instituted a new liturgical observance:  the Feast of Christ the King. The Pope felt that the followers of Christ were being lured away by the increasing secularism of the world. They were choosing to live in the “kingdoms” of the world, rather than in the reign of God.

            This last Sunday of the church year is Christ the King Sunday.  We prepare to begin a new church year next week. On the First Sunday of Advent, the coming of Jesus, not only in Bethlehem, but the second coming as well, we pause and reflect upon who Jesus the Christ is in our lives.

            Truth be told, the language of “king” and “kingdom” troubles a lot of people these days. As Jill Duffield points out, “it creates a stumbling block to seeing God.  Male. Dominating. Subjugating. Hierarchical….”  Those of us who live in the United States of America remember that back in 1775 we declared our independence from a king and fought a war of independence.  

            So…what do we do with Christ the King Sunday?  These days, we also call it “Reign of Christ” Sunday. We talk about “the kin-dom of God. “But how do we talk about Christ as King of our lives?

            The scripture texts appointed for this week give good clues for where to start.  The Revelation gives a beautiful glimpse into the glorious, majestic, all-encompassing power of the Risen Christ.  John the Evangelist proclaims that the One we worship, the Lord of all, poured himself out to the point of death on a cross.  

            Today’s gospel lesson is set in Pontius Pilate’s dusty headquarters in Jerusalem.  Pilate, an officer of the Roman Empire, looks over the ragged street preacher.   The Jewish religious authorities have turned Jesus over to be tried by the Roman authorities.   It is Pilate’s job to decide whether or not Jesus is a threat to the Empire.

            “Are you the king of the Jews?”   Pilate asks.

            Jesus answers, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?”

            Pilate replies, “I am not a Jew-- am I?   Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me.  What have you done?”

            Jesus answers, “My kingdom is not from this world.  If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews.  But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.”

            Pilate asks, “So you are a king?”

            Jesus answers, “You say that I am.  But ‘king’ is your word.  My task is to bear witness to the truth.  Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

            Pilate then answers, “What is truth?”
            Of course, “What is truth?” has everything to do with Jesus as king, for Jesus is the truth.
            Dr. Emilie Townes makes a helpful distinction between the more intellectual understanding of truth (which Pilate represents in this passage) and truth as revelation, which we find in Jesus Christ.[1]
            Dr. Townes writes, “We must seek to know God and live as active witnesses on this journey into God.  Jesus’ life and mission is a model of this for us. In Jesus, we learn that truth is a stimulant for faithful living and witness, rather than only a matter for contemplation. It is something we do.”
            What Pilate misses-- what most of the world misses-- is that Jesus’ Kingdom was never a place, but a perspective…never an established rule, but a stated reality of how to live life.  It was never about hierarchy or domination, but a way of interpreting the world and embodying Jesus’ gospel truth in everything we do.
            This is a counter-cultural way to live. We’re socialized to trust in the kinds of kingdoms that aren’t interested in the Truth at all, but who tell half-truths, false truths, fake truths that tap into our insecurities and our fears. It might be easier to live under authority, rather than turning away from that and living into the way of truth and justice for all.
            The gospels tell us what happens when oppressive, unjust kingdoms are confronted for their wrongs and defied for their abuses-- you can end up like Jesus. Or Dietrich Bonhoeffer… or Dr Martin Luther King…or Archbishop Romero.  We know when we stand up to privilege, those with power and privilege will want to shut us up.
            When you stand up to the workings of the world’s kingdoms that rely on sexism, racism, homophobia, xenophobia, classism, or able-ism to survive, expect to be silenced. When you stand up to the injustices of the kingdoms at hand that survive because of thrive on fear, expect to be discredited and disregarded.[2]
            The kingdoms of this world use power and privilege to keep people in their place.  But Jesus’ Kingdom tells the truth about the Truth-- that God so loves the world.
            Jesus Christ, our Savior, the one who was betrayed, arrested, beaten, mocked, and taken before Pilate, tells the ruler with the power to kill him, “My kingdom is not of this world.” When he could have spared himself, Jesus chose truth over safety, saying, “I came to testify to the truth. Whoever belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”
            In a time when there are so many lies, those of us who worship Christ the King are called to testify to the truth.

As followers of Jesus, we are called to listen to his voice and to live in his way of truth and love. We are called to love God and our neighbors, to work for peace and reconciliation and justice for all, to embody the love of Jesus Christ in all our relationships. As we grow in faith toge

            In our Presbyterian and Reformed tradition, our understanding of baptism emphasizes God’s initiative.  God reaches out graciously to us, and offers us the gift of life in the kingdom as a free gift.  We respond by dedicating our lives to Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior and committing ourselves to follow him.  Baptism is the beginning of our life in the church…a first step in a journey that takes a lifetime.

ther, we trust in the Holy Spirit to guide us, to lead us further into the truth, and to empower us to live into God’s Kingdom.   Through the guidance and power of the Holy Spirit, we teach and encourage each other to live in the way of God’s love.

One of the great joys of the Christian life is when parents present their children for baptism.  This is their public declaration that they want their child to be a part of the church and to have a ministry in it. 

            Baptism is central to our identity as Christians.    As we live into our baptism, we learn who we are and whose we are.  We are nurtured to see ourselves as beloved children of God, and that can make all the difference!

            The baptismal font stands at the front of sanctuary to remind us that we’ve been initiated into this congregation, as well as into the universal church of Jesus Christ. 

            When parents and a congregation baptize children, we all promise to teach them who they are in the light of God’s truth.  We promise to teach them what makes them different as part of a holy people…a royal priesthood…consecrated to God’s service.  

            When parents present their child for baptism, they promise to live the Christian faith themselves, and to teach that faith to their children, by word and example.  To grow in the faith, we all need to worship and learn together—in our families, and in the faith community which is the church.  

            Today, we’re inviting Khalil to be part of the great adventure we call church.

            What God will make of Khalil’s life, or where God will lead him, or what kind of ministry he will have, we don’t know.

            But what we do know…what we can say with certainty, because we have God’s PROMISE—is that God is with us every step of the way.

            May God bless Khalil and his family…and all of us on our adventure, as we live into God’s Kingdom together!

            Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

November 25, 2018

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[1] Emilie M. Townes, “Theological Perspective,” in Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 4: Season after Pentecost 2 (Propers 17)  Reign of Christ

[2] I’m grateful to Caroline Lewis for her insights in “The True Kingdom” at Working Preacher. http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5252

"Those Through Whom God's Light Shines." A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on All Saints Sunday.

"Those Through Whom God's Light Shines"

Luke 6:20-31

            In today’s gospel reading we heard some of the Bible’s most challenging descriptions of the Christian life.   It’s what’s known in the gospel of Luke as the “sermon on the plain.”  The parallel “Sermon on the Mount” in Matthew is better known-- but I think Luke’s version is even more demanding. 

Both start with what’s known as the Beatitudes:  Blessed are you who are poor.  Blessed are you who are hungry…you who weep and mourn…you who are persecuted.  But Luke’s version continues with the “Woes:” Woe to you who are rich now.  Woe to you who are well fed now…you who laugh now…you who are applauded and commended.  You’ve already had your rewards.”

            Both versions are followed with a series of instructions for how to live as a Christian.  “Love your enemies.  Do good to those who hate you.  Bless those who curse you.  Pray for those who abuse you.  If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other cheek also.  If anyone takes away your coat, don’t withhold even your shirt.  Give to everyone who begs from you.  If anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.” 

            Surely Jesus isn’t calling us to be naïve-- and easily exploited doormats for everybody else to wipe their feet on?  But surely Jesus doesn’t mean for us to ignore these words because they are too hard.  So…   how are we supposed to understand this?

           

According to Jesus, it is better to be poor in things and rich in spirit—than it is to be rich in things and poor in spirit.  There is joy and celebration for those who enjoy the reign of God, but those who trust in the riches of the present world have received all they will ever have.  What Jesus teaches is radically counter-cultural. 

            The culture says, “Show me the money,” while faith says, “Give me the kingdom.”  The world says, “I want it my way—now,” while faith says, “I’ll take it God’s way—in God’s time.”  The society says, “What you see is what you get,” while faith says, “What you see may well be an illusion.”

            When I was studying Hebrew and Greek in seminary, we had to read passages were translating aloud in class.  In English, you can’t tell the difference between “you” singular and “you” in the plural, but you can in the original Greek.  So, we sounded a bit “Southern” when we did our translations-- when we would read “you all” to distinguish from you in the singular form. 

            When we read “Blessed are you who are poor… blessed are you who are hungry now,” it’s clear in the Greek that it’s plural.    “Blessed are you all who are poor.”  “Blessed are you all who are hungry.”

            What difference does it make?  If I say to [one of you], ‘I need you to lift the piano off the floor,’ I don’t that s/he’s going to be able to do it.  It would be a real struggle.  But if I say to the choir or to the people sitting in the third pew, ‘You all need to lift the piano off the floor’—I think you all could do it.

                       

            This morning we’re celebrating All Saints’ Day.  It’s about remembering the Christians who have gone before us...  those who have shown us what it means to walk in the way of Jesus Christ.  It reminds us that we’re part of the “communion of the saints.” 

            So…  on this All Saints Sunday-- greetings to all you saints. 

            Does that make you squirm a little?   Most of us don’t think of ourselves as being very saintly.  We might be able to relate to what Nelson Mandela said when somebody called him a saint.  Mandela said, “I’m just a sinner who keeps on trying.”

            I think that’s a good way to think of it.  We are all sinners, in need of God’s redemption.  In some Christian denominations, saints are people who have lived exceptionally holy lives.  But, in our baptism, we are called into a holy priesthood.  So, in the New Testament understanding, any Christian is a saint.

            In the Catholic tradition, on each day of the year there are certain saints who are remembered.  Two of the best-known examples are St. Patrick’s Day and St. Valentine’s Day. 

            Over the centuries, there got to be more saints than there were days in the year.  The church also realized that there were many people who lived saintly lives, but who did so in such a quiet way that most people never knew about them.  So, All Saints’ Day was created as a day to remember all the saints.

            In the Protestant tradition, we have come to understand the word “saint” as not just referring to a special select few Christians.  Rather, we have come to understand the word “saint” in a broader sense—in the biblical sense.  All Saints’ Day is a day to remember all the faithful people of God.

            We remember that saints aren’t just those who did miraculous and amazing things.  The saints are also all those people across the years who showed their faith in Jesus by how they lived their lives.  Quite often, that faith was shown in very quiet and simple ways.

            It’s been said that a saint is someone who lets God’s light shine through them.   As followers of Jesus Christ, we are called to be “the light of the world.”  God’s light shines into the darkness of this world, and we are called to let God’s light shine through us.

            It isn’t our light that is shining:  it is the light of God, shining through our lives. 

           

            The apostle Paul began some of his letters by writing, “To all the saints at Rome…or Ephesus…or Corinth”—even if he was going to spend part of the letter telling them how they’ve been failing in the Christian life and need to do better.  Their failures don’t keep Paul from calling them “saints.” 

As Will Willimon says, “A saint is any Christian, anyone whom God has called out to be blessed… baptized… different… distinctive.  Saints are those ordinary people who have had their little lives caught, commandeered by Christ in rather extraordinary ways.  And for that, Jesus calls them “blessed.”[1]

            We are called together to be the church.  The church is in the business of producing and equipping saints for their ministries.

            Think about it.  You are the only word from the Lord that some people will ever hear.  So, you—you all-- are blessed and sent out into the world to be God’s word in a troubled, hurting, confused world. You and I are called to embody God’s love and light to the people we meet who are sad… or lonely… or hungry…or just need a friend. 

            The GOOD NEWS is that you are not alone.  On this All Saints Sunday, we remember the saints who have gone on before us, trusting in the promises of Christ and the reign of God.  We are in a long line, part of a procession of people of faith who are rooted in the past and march on toward an eternal hope. While we who are a part of the Communion of Saints here on earth labor on for the kingdom of God, the rest of the Communion of saints, those who’ve gone on before, are cheering us on!

            Saints, the light of God shines through your lives.  It is not our light that is shining:  it is the light of God, shining through our lives.  So, let the light of God shine through you so that others may know God’s hope and peace and joy! 

To God who is able to accomplish abundantly

            far more than all we can ask or imagine--

            to God be the glory in the church... 

            and in Christ Jesus... 

            to all generations, for ever and ever! Amen!  (Ephesians 3:20)

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[1] William Willimon, “Saints, All of You” at www.chapel.duke.edu/worship/sunday/