All Saints’ Sunday B: Look Twice

Dear Partner in Preaching,

On the nightstand beside my childhood bed stood a plaster statuette of two children kneeling, hands folded and heads bowed. Beneath them, raised in gilt-edged letters, ran the old English prayer,
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take
.

Not too long ago, I happened to glance upon a similar item, tucked away in the corner of a display window of a bright, cheerful shop of books and collectibles, but this time made of plastic and with a slightly altered prayer:
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
Guide me safely through this night, and wake me with the morning light
.

Upon finding this reminder of my childhood, I had two distinct reactions. On the one hand, I had to agree that perhaps this was an appropriate change, for the old prayer was rather solemn, even ominous; certainly death has no place in a child’s bedroom.

On the other hand, however, I questioned whether the change was made to protect children or merely to avoid offending their gift-buying parents. To what degree, I wondered, does this newer prayer simply reflect the tenor of our times. I mean, have you noticed that while we seem to have a nearly insatiable appetite for graphic images of violence and death in our television, movies, video-games, and news, we simultaneously appear increasingly to be in denial of the common, everyday, garden variety of death which awaits each of us?

And so hospitals, for instance, routinely refuse to refer to their patients dying but speak, instead, of their expiring. Similarly, the Air Force does not report the deaths of pilots who crash in combat or training but rather relates that some pilots experienced uncontrolled landings into terrain. Generals do not record how many of their soldiers died but rather the number of casualties their units suffered. And even the church has gotten into the act, as the more contemporary marriage services do not require the participants to pledge fidelity “until death parts us” but instead to promise their intention of “sharing our joys and sorrows and all that the years may bring.”

In this light, the festival we celebrate this Sunday – All Saints’ Day – appears such an odd affair. For in stark contrast to a culture which worships youth and boasts that “you can have it all,” All Saints lifts up the stark reality of our mortality by celebrating all those who have died – not those who have expired, or passed away, or been lost like a favorite pair of gloves – but rather those who have died…in the faith. And so in many of our congregations this Sunday we will name aloud those persons who have died in the past year and passed into the nearer presence of God. And this is as it should be.

But here take note: the color for All Saints Day is not the black of Good Friday and mourning, but rather the white and gold of Easter and celebration. For on this day we do not merely acknowledge death, but we also place it in its proper context. After all, we gather to worship the One who was given power over death; the One, as St. John narrates in today’s gospel, who raised Lazarus to life; the One who’s own death and resurrection, in fact, gives witness to the trustworthiness of the promise made in the first two readings that God will one day bring to an end the reign of death, cause mourning and suffering to cease, and wipe every tear from our eyes.

It is from the light of Easter dawn that we confront the darkness of death. And it is from the other side of Christ’s resurrection that we gain the courage, not to deny death, but to defy it, to defy its ability to overshadow and distort our lives, for the Risen Christ has promised us that death does not have the last word.

What a difference this makes! Not just in our attitude about death, but also about life. Because on this day – as on Easter – we recall most powerfully that we are those persons who have been joined by Holy Baptism to Christ’s death and resurrection. As the Apostle Paul writes, “Do you not know that all those who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the power of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life” (Rom. 5:3-4). According to Paul, then, we are those persons who have been promised not only life eternal but also abundant life her and now!

And this means at least two things for us and our people. First, death no longer terrifies us. Promised a share of Christ’s resurrection, we can look even death in the eye and not blink. For this reason, while we mourn the death of our loved ones, yet we also celebrate their triumph, their victory, as they now rest from their labors and live with Christ in glory.

Second, and perhaps more importantly, life no longer terrifies us either. For our whole life is now sanctified – that is, made holy and given a purpose – through God’s promise to be with us and for us and to use us and all of our gifts to God’s own glory.

Here, in fact, we perceive the true significance of the name of this day – All Saints’ Day – far more clearly. Saints are not only those persons in the Bible or Church history who did great things. Nor are Saints only those who died for the faith. Saints are not even only those who are of such great moral courage, kindness or discipline that they set examples for the rest of us. Rather, saints are also – and especially – all those who have been baptized into Christ.

Our word “saint,” in fact, comes from a Greek word meaning “holy ones,” a word which itself stems from a Hebrew one meaning “set apart” for the Lord’s use. In Holy Baptism, you see, each of us was set apart, consecrated, named, called, and commissioned by God to be God’s children, partners, and co-workers in the world – those people, that is, whom God will use to achieve God’s own will.

And if you have any doubt of this, take the time to read St. Paul’s letters to the Church at Corinth. For in these letters, Paul at many points scolds the Corinthians for their lack of faith, for their poor stewardship, for their shoddy treatment of one another, for their divisive one-ups-manship, and for their offensive moral behavior. Nevertheless, when addressing this poor excuse for a Christian congregation, he refers to them regularly as “Saints.” Well, now, c’mon: If this is true for the Corinthians, then so also is it true for us. J

Therefore, simply because God has set us apart and called us “saints” in baptism we have God’s promise that God will use us – our talents, abilities, interests – our whole lives! – to further God’s will. This not only gives our lives meaning but also conveys tremendous significance upon our daily routine, as all of our roles – parent, spouse, child, citizen, employer, employee, co-worker, volunteer, friend, and so many others – become the places we take our stand as God’s co-workers and partners to do, literally, holy work; work, that is, that God has set apart and called holy because it is done by holy people.

So perhaps, Dear Partner, even look first toward heaven to celebrate the life triumphant that some of our beloved now enjoy, we might also look again, directing the gaze of our people to the variety of seemingly mundane activities all around them that are actually invitations for saintly activity. The coming elections, the work they do at their employment and places of volunteering, the homes they nurture, their studies and hobbies. Each of these can be viewed as they arenas in which they respond to God’s call to live as one set apart for a purpose, cultivating the health of the world God loves so much. Moreover, we might also remind them that we urge them to come to and contribute to the life of our congregations precisely because we are committed to equipping them on Sunday to do God’s work more maturely and capably in all the many and various roles they play throughout the week.

All Saints’ Day, then, is our day, as we perceive ourselves to be those persons who have been set apart to do God’s work in the world, those whom God has promised to accompany through all of our living and our dying, unto new life, and those who are joined to all the faithful who have lived, labored, and died in the faith before us

And after both directing our gaze “vertically” to give thanks for those who have departed us for a time and live now with God and then directing our gaze “horizontally” to all our callings here and now, perhaps we might then send our people out into the world as God’s beloved and capable saints, those people called and set apart to do God’s work. And when they return home at night and climb into bed wearied by their labor, perhaps they’ll call to mind an old and solemn prayer, a prayer of confidence and courage which God has promised to answer for all of God’s saints, young and old alike:
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen.

Thanks for your good work and wise words, Dear Partner, on this Sunday and always.

Yours in Christ,
David