PEOPLE'S CHURCH OF DOVER

Hebrews 11:32 – 12:2                                                                   Saints in My Life
All Saints Sunday Sermon, Nov. 1, 2009: People's UCC, Dover, DE : The Rev. Dan Griggs

     This Second Lesson speaks of a “great cloud of witnesses”—those whose faith has seen them through persecution and triumph. There are a lot of names we could add, aren't there. One name that isn't on the list is “Beezie Merryman.” Beezie had two children and a difficult marriage: her husband Joe had spent much of his life as an invalid. When I first met her she was managing a federal low-income housing community, and she had had other jobs before that. The people there loved her and respected her—she did a good job on the job in the office, and on the job at home. And then she got the diagnosis of cancer. Beezie wouldn't talk about her own problems, but one day her son told me everything that was going on. The cancer grew strong, and she was losing the battle. Her son moved a hospital bed into their living room, and that's where I was visiting her the day she asked me THE QUESTION: “What comes after this life?” She knew her Bible, but in modern times the Bible answers don't always make enough sense: she was confused and afraid. I sat down and we talked. This is what I said. The Bible contains several different pictures of “what comes after”—a new heaven and earth, rising to meet the Lord in the air, heavenly worship, a single unified humanity called “the bride of Christ”; but for me the most factual statement in the Bible about “what comes after” is the one in First John 3:2. It says:

The inspired writer says that we don't know—it's beyond our comprehension, there's no picture he could draw to help us envision it; but we can trust the one who knows us . That's the answer I gave Beezie. She became very quiet and thought about it for a long minute, then she smiled and thanked me. She said that helped: she was no longer so afraid. I got to visit her twice more, and then she was gone; but she was ready.

     There's another thing we may believe about “what comes after.” The creed calls it “the communion of saints”—all those alive, and all those who are at rest, and indeed all those to come. This kind of faith reaches through the heavy curtain that blinds our sight, and reminds us that we really are still united with all the saints, and we too have a share in the eternal hope. So today, All Saints Sunday, we remember our unity with all the saints in our lives.

     In October of 1989 I traveled to Nashville to be present at the centennial celebration of my denomination's state organization. There were speeches, memories of church camp, women's organizations, displays, a meal, and a service of worship that included Holy Communion. The executive minister, Bronson Netterville, presided at the Table; and as part of the Communion Prayer he invited anyone in the congregation to speak the name of someone close to their heart who had been active in the church's past life and witness. Quietly, reverently people all over the sanctuary began to speak names. The reason I attended this celebration was to honor the memory of my great-grandfather, Amos J. Waller, whose will had included a large gift to the church's state organization. He was not a perfect man, but he was a good man, and a saint of the church.

     I believe there is more to life than sixty years, or seventy or eighty. I believe your testimony of faith, given by your life, echoes across the decades and continues to bless your great-grandchildren, biological or spiritual. What made saints of those who went before us is not forgotten: it continues to live in our faith and in our church's practice. So today, All Saints Sunday, we remember our unity with all the saints in our lives.

     Today when you lift the morsel of bread to your mouth, you share the body of Christ with that “great cloud of witnesses” who surround you as you live out your faith. When you tip the cup to your lips, you sustain the hope Christ has given us and to all the generations to come. We are all joined together across time and space, one humankind in communion with God through Jesus Christ. We are, together, a fellowship of believers, of strugglers, of forgiven sinners, of the first-fruits of all humankind whom Christ has claimed and redeemed. There is in this moment no limitation of time, or space, or life or death: So today, All Saints Sunday, we remember our unity with all the saints in our lives.

     Who do you remember today? Who are the saints in your personal life—the people who have given you faith, and joy, concern and wisdom, and who have done practical deeds that blessed you then and continue to bless you and provide you an example of what it means to be a Christian?

     Who have you lost, but not really lost? Who are the saints who still meet you on the road you travel and sustain you as you make choices today and tomorrow?

     In the worship bulletin you have a blank piece of paper. Would you take that out now, and take a couple of minutes to write the names of those who are your saints—those you want to say “Thank you” to God for. When you have written what you need to write, fold the paper once and pass it to the center aisle. I will bind them together and we will present them at the altar this morning with prayer. I'm not going to read them aloud, so you can write what you need to write.

Prayer at the Altar
     Eternal God, you hold all souls in life. Give to your whole church in paradise and on earth your light and your peace; and grant that we, following the good examples of those who have served you here and are now at rest, may at the last enter with them into your unending joy. Bring a special measure of comfort to us who have lost loved ones this year past, that as we prepare for the season of holiday celebrations we may have your joy which overcomes pain, your peace which the world cannot give. We pray in the name of Jesus Christ, who was dead and who rose from death to life for us. Amen.