November 1                           NOTES FOR REFLECTION             All Saints Sunday
    Texts: Isaiah 25:6-9; Revelation 21:1-6a;  John 11:32-44
    Theme:   The title of the Feast Day is the obvious and safe bet, and avoids  having to think of something more interesting.   I'm playing with the idea of the heavenly version of our Honours System  – Sainthood being the Christian equivalent of knighthood/damehood, only more  so.  Perhaps "Honours in the Kingdom of  God", or, slightly more spicy, "Honour Among Saints".  But on balance, for reasons that will become  apparent shortly, I'm leaning towards "Calling for Nominations".
    Introduction.   We begin once more with Isaiah's glorious vision of the fulfilment of  God's great vision for humanity, to be celebrated with the finest of  feasts.  (Hint: saints are those people  in every generation who have helped, are helping, and will help to bring  forward that great time of completion.)  Moving forward several centuries, on the  Island of Patmos St John the Seer re-calls to mind that same great vision and  re-affirms its truth.  We finish with  part of the gospel account of Jesus' calling of his friend Lazarus out of death  and into his living presence.  A small  case study of what the great vision looks like in microcosm.
    Background.   I must confess that I have long struggled with this whole "saint" thing,  and I suspect I am not alone in that, at least among fellow Anglicans.  This is one of the many areas, it seems to  me, where what we teach and what we believe are two rather different  things.  I can clearly remember being  taught (and have since taught) that the biblical understanding of "saints" is  simply "believers".  When St Paul  addresses "the saints who are in Ephesus and are faithful in Christ Jesus"  (Ephesians 1:1b), he is not referring to the 2 or 3 spiritual giants there who  pray for 18 hours a day standing on one leg in ice-cold water with a contented  smile permanently turned towards heaven.   He means the ordinary members of the faith community in that place.  In his eyes, all who believe in Jesus are  saints, even us.
    In the first  parish in which I served, I once started our All Saints Day service by greeting  the congregation, looking around and asking if there were any visitors  present.  There were none.  Then I repeated the process, this time asking  if there were any saints present.  There  was one.  This was a congregation that,  in Anglican terms, was broadly fundamentalist, proud of its spiritual gifts,  and of its commitment to Scripture.  Yet  only one person there that morning knew that he was a "saint" within the terms  of the Bible.
    In practice,  of course, we don't believe that saints are just ordinary people like you and  me.  They are the greats of the past (one  qualification for sainthood seems to be death – no living saints allowed).  They are the ones who brought huge numbers to  faith, taught with great wisdom, suffered agonising torture and death for their  faith, and generally set the bar so high for the rest of us that, far from  being inspired to follow their example, we are more likely to shrink into self-doubt  and despair at the very thought that we might be able (or even willing) to "go  and do likewise".  The modern procedure  for canonisation, so far as I understand it, doesn't help matters much.  The need to prove at least two miracles  attributable to the "candidate" seems problematic at best for all sort of  reasons; and the seemingly automatic approval of popes soon after their death  looks to me far too much like the conferment of a knighthood/damehood as of  right to anyone who has held the office of Prime Minister.
    Then there's  the issue of "saintly portfolios"...   Suffice it to say that as a long-suffering supporter of Sheffield Wednesday  I have found the intercessions of St Jude, the Patron Saint of Lost Causes,  singularly ineffective.
    But perhaps  the greatest problem I have with the traditional view of saints is that they  so-often come across as being models of self-obsession and self-denial, who  simply did not enjoy the life to which they had been called.  There are not many of them I can easily envisage  having a wonderful time at the Wedding Feast of the Lamb.  Look at the menu in Isaiah's vision this  week: it is not ideal for people who have allowed themselves only a little  bread and a sip of water once a day (except fast days), is it?  How do we follow Jesus and bring him honour  when we follow John the Baptist's version of the paleo diet rather than Jesus'  willingness to eat and drink with anyone who invited him? (Matthew 11:18-19).
    All of which  is a bit negative, isn't it?  So what  should we look for in a saint, and whom should we recognise as a saint?  That's the exercise I set myself this week as  I started to reflect on these scriptures.   I had been scribbling away for some time, before I noticed something a  little awkward.  A few of the people on  my list of nominees are dead, but most of them are very much alive.  Far more disturbing was the lack of  Christians on my list – at least, a few of them are self-professed atheists and  in the case of quite a few of the others I have no idea whether or not they  profess faith in Christ.  Should I strike  them off?  Perhaps, before rushing to  answer that question, we might like to ponder again the great passage in the  second half of Matthew 25 – the sheep and the goats.
    And to be  clear about our criteria for sainthood.   It happens that there is a very helpful article in today's (Thursday's  ODT) (page 7) by Mark Edmunson, an American academic, writing about the modern  ethics that tell us what we mustn't do or say, rather than what we should.  By contrast, he recommends Walt Whitman's  approach, which he sums up like this:
    He understood , I think, that the  basis for lasting social change was not so much a hunger for justice and  fairness but the feeling that, as different as we are, we all compose one  being.  He was above all practical.  The best reason to put away hostility is not  to be a goody-goody or to placate your super-ego but to contribute a little  something to making life better for you and everyone else.  Don't be this!  Don't be that!   Let us replace those dictates with what  Whitman prescribes.  Be friendly.  Try to be open.  Learn from other people.  Treat them fairly.  Do not let prejudices get in the way of a  good time.
    Doesn't that  sound more like Jesus?  It happens that I  had been reading recently an address by the then President of Eire, Mary  McAleese, in which she referred to the Parliament of the World's Religions and  its Declaration towards a Global Ethic of 1993, as follows:
    The Declaration recognised the  interdependence of all human beings on this small planet, the individual  responsibility of each one of us for our actions and their consequences; our  responsibility to treat others with respect; to forgive past wrongs; to extend  a helping hand to those in need, particularly children, the aged, the suffering  the disabled; to treat others as equals, respecting their diversity.
    So for me a  saint is any person who shows me how to live my life like that by living his or  her life like that.  Saints are, as hinted  above, people in every generation (including our own) who have helped, are  helping, and will help to bring forward the completion of God's great vision  for us all.  They include some of  world-renown, of course, but they also include those "Good Sorts" we learn  about at the end of the TV One news on Sunday evenings, "ordinary" people in  local communities all over the country following (unknowingly) Walt Whitman's  prescription, embodied in the Declaration towards a Global Ethic, and better  known to us as "The New Commandment".
    So this  week, perhaps, you might find some time to start your list of such people.  Those who inspire and encourage you to make  your contribution to the completion of God's salvation.  And remember to keep your list open.  There are saints all around us, countless as  heaven's stars, if only we will pause to notice them, give thanks for them, and  ask for the grace to emulate them.
    Isaiah 25:6-9.   Simply read, enjoy, and be inspired.   This is what we have to look forward, this is what we are called to work  and pray for.  Notice the sheer limitless  extravagance of the whole vision.  There  is no us and them, no insiders and outsiders (as long as we don't read on to  verse 10!).  This is God's vision for all  peoples and all nations.  This is the  Kingdom of God in its final form.  And at  the heart of it is a celebratory banquet!
    Taking It Personally.
    ·         Sit  with this passage.  Soak in it.  Let go of any negativity you may be feeling  at this time.  Be glad and rejoice in  God's salvation!
    ·         Copy  it out and keep it with you each day in the coming week.  Read it after the TV News.  Recognise how far we still have to go, and  re-commit yourself each day to pray and work more wholeheartedly for God's  vision to become a reality.
    ·         What  specifically can you do in the coming week to meet Walt Whitman's prescription?  What opportunities may you have to be kind to  others, to be open to others, and to learn from others?  How willing are you to accept the kindness of  others offered to you?
     
    Revelation 21:1-6.   This passage is almost a re-run of the passage from Isaiah.  It is worth remembering that both passages  came out of great difficulty and hardship.   John is in exile or imprisonment during a time of terrible persecution  of Christians.  Many will have abandoned  the faith, gone into hiding, done or said anything to escape with their  lives.  Yet John sees, not hardship,  defeat and death, but the glorious victory of God over all forces of evil.  He sees the "hidden" mystery of the Incarnation  revealed and apparent to all.  He sees  death abolished: he sees the completion of God's restoring salvation, bringing  all things back into harmony with him, so that God is both the beginning and  the end of all things.  The work of the  saints is finally finished and they (we) shall take their (our rest).
     
    Taking It Personally.
     
    ·         Do  you believe it?  Do you proclaim it?  Do you seek to live it out at all times?
    ·         Review  the past month or so.  In what ways has  God been able to work his purposes out through you?  In what ways may you have been an obstruction  to God's plan?
     
    John 11:32-44. It's not hard to see why this gospel  story has been chosen for this celebration, but it needs careful handling.  It is presented as a real event, rather than  a parable.  It is worrying that, if it  was a real event, the other gospel writers knew nothing of it, or, if they did,  they didn't think it worth a mention.  In  the context of our other readings, the temptation is to refer to it as a sort  of "first-fruits" of the eventual abolition of death; but that would be  claiming far too much.  Lazarus did not  live for ever.  At some stage he died  like everyone else.  If this was a real  event, then it was an event of miraculous resuscitation, not one of  resurrection to eternal life.  The  details of this great story are well-known, but are still worth taking time  over.  Jesus' mysterious delay in  responding to his friends' summons; his own tears of grief; the ever-present  split of opinion among the crowd of observers; the practical Martha, warning  against the stench; the loud call to Lazarus to "Come out"; and the graphic  appearance of Lazarus as he responded.   True story or parable, it is wonderfully well told!
     
    Taking it Personally.
     
    ·         What  may Jesus be calling you to come out of at this time?  By what may you be entombed or confined?  Could the tomb be a metaphor for your  "comfort zone"?
    ·         Are  you too "wrapped up" in something that restricts your ability to follow Jesus?
    ·         Do  you want to be wholly free to follow him? 
    ·         Does  this story reflect the seriousness of death, or does it tend to encourage the  "death is nothing at all" school of thought?   Is a funeral a time to weep or a time to laugh?