Notes for Reflection

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?