Loading...Sermon for All Saints Sunday
Readings: Isaiah 25:6-9, Psalm 24, Revelation 21:1-6, John 11:32-44
Sermon Text
It’s been a full week since Halloween, since we heard the voices at the front door pleading, “Trick or Treat.” All Saints Day was Monday, but the Prayer Book allows for the Sunday following to be All Saints Sunday. It makes today a fitting convergence of celebrations. We give thanks for the fellowship of the Communion of Saints, along with the mission and ministry of the saints of God who are Emmanuel Parish.
To observe All Saints is to give thanks for the faithful witness of many who have gone before, but it is also a time to be reminded that we, too, are part of the Communion of Saints. N.T. Wright points out that, “In the New Testament every single Christian is referred to as a ‘saint’, including the muddled and sinful ones to whom Paul writes his letters.”1 Saints are holy ones, and we are counted in that number by virtue of our baptism and making the good confession that Jesus is Lord. That’s why All Saints is a traditional day for baptisms. We have one in the works, but are waiting just a little longer until the bishop comes, which is another day for baptisms. It will be fun to see a little one baptized and his dad confirmed. So, If you ever question, or even doubt, your sainthood, remember your baptism, when you were sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own for ever.
Today we have an interesting picture of sainthood to emulate, one that surprised me when I was perusing the lectionary. As the week went along, though, it started to make more and more sense. On this All Saints Sunday we are invited to consider Lazarus Sainthood. A Lazarus saint lives in the incredible aftermath of being rescued from death and restored to life, even when it seemed too late. “Lord, if you would have come sooner. . .” “There will be a stench. It’s been four days.” But, that doesn’t seem to matter to Jesus. “Lazarus, come out!” It’s never too late. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.
The journey of life sometimes leads to dark places. The challenge that seems too daunting. The relationship strained by interpersonal strife. The body thrown into the throes of sickness. The mind disturbed by unseen foe. The heart anxious for no explicable reason. Whatever the cause, it is a time of confrontation with our own daunting finitude. We find that we are hanging on by a thread, trying to keep hold of the hope of resurrection, but sliding inexorably toward a dying in spirit, mind, heart, or body. In such moments there is a reality to embrace, the truth of our baptism, that we’ve been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own - FOREVER. Lazarus, come out! It’s never too late. The darkness is never too dark because Jesus, the light, shines and overcomes all darkness.
We have been rescued from death through his death, restored to life through his resurrection, in order to live in those ineffable joys we prayed about in the Collect for All Saints. We aren’t rescued just for ourselves, but to share the hope that is ours in Christ, because we will always find new Lazarus’, those wrapped in the shroud cast over all peoples, who may have stumbled on to a dark path, or been forced on it, who may think, or are told, it’s too late. The stone is in place, the stench has set in. To those trapped in darkness, Jesus shouts, “Lazarus, come out!” And Jesus bids us to lend our aid. “Unbind him and let him go.”2 That’s the mission of the church, the mission in which we all have a part through the giving intentions we make today, through the ministries of mercy that we undertake, through the simple invitation to come and see, through the fellowship we share.
Yes, even fellowship shines the light of Christ. The great Anglican turned Roman Catholic theologian, John Henry Newman, wrote, “The best preparation for loving the world at large is the cultivation of rightly ordered friendships”, because “by trying to love our … friends, by submitting to their wishes, though contrary to our own, by bearing with their infirmities, by overcoming their occasional waywardness with kindness, by dwelling on their excellences, … we form in our hearts that root of charity, which, though small at first, may, like the mustard seed, at last even overshadow the earth.”3
On All Saints Sunday we give thanks for the Communion of Saints, those who have gone before, and those of us who continue our pilgrimage. We are bound together because we have been rescued from death to life by our God, who is making all things new. Who better to know and share this good news than a Lazarus saint?
Notes.
1. N. T. Wright, For All the Saints? Remembering the Christian Departed. London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 2003
2.Veronice Miles, “Pastoral Perspective on John 11:1–45.” In Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary: Year A, edited by David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010.
3. David Hein and Edward Hugh Henderson, Captured by the Crucified: The Practical Theology of Austin Farrer. London; New York: T&T Clark, 2003.
