Yesterday was
All Saints Day. Until fairly recently, Protestants didn't usually make very
much of this celebration in the Church year. I suspect that somehow the idea of
saints made us a little uncomfortable. Most of us, don't know a whole lot about
the lives of the saints. And we don't know much about the saints in general--
except that they all seem to have Catholic churches named after them. We’re
Protestant-- we proudly proclaim-- we don't believe in saints.
Except of
course for St. Francis-- from what we know he seems to be okay, just a guy who
tried to live like Jesus. And of course God's favorite Irishman, St. Paddy--
who actually was English. Or Joan of Arc-- that's right, she was a saint too,
wasn't she? And good ol' St. Christopher on the dashboard . And hey, can't
forget Mother Seton, the first American-born saint.
That would
seem to wrap it up for most of us in the Saint department--unless we want to
follow the high church practice of according the courtesy title of
"Saint" to Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. But if you do that, the
least you can do is include Peter and Paul. And if you're going to include
them, you might as well call all of the Apostles "Saint". And of
course, John the Seer of Patmos. Oops!
Can't forget St. Jude for hopeless causes. And I think that most of us
assume Mother Theresa will probably make
the grade someday.
But those are
the only ones we know of-- because we're Protestant and we really "don't
believe" in saints. This Saint business is one area in which we
Protestants have thrown the baby out with the bath water. Now, I'm not
suggesting that we set up side altars here, or start praying in the name of the
saints. Nor am I advocating asking any of them to intercede with God on our
behalf.
However, I do
want to affirm that the "Communion of Saints" can be a powerful
spiritual reality in our lives. There
are viable and exciting models for
living the Christian life in the stories of the saints. There is a great and glorious portion of the
history of the Church Universal that we cheat ourselves out of when we
"don't believe in saints".
Frederick
Buechner, who is as Protestant as anyone I know writes,
"In
His holy flirtation with the world, God occasionally drops a
handkerchief.
These handkerchiefs are called 'saints'."
I'm not
convinced that there is a single, narrow pattern for the Christian experience
or life. Down through the ages, there has been an extra-ordinary variety of
heroes of the faith on every continent-- men and women-- Protestant, Catholic,
and Orthodox-- lay and clergy-- rich and poor-- wise and simple-- kings and
peasants-- married and celibate-- who have been called "saints" down
through the ages. It is a vivid testimony to the rich diversity of the human
experience, and of the life of faith.
In New
Testament times the title "saints" was originally applied to all believers. A worshipping community
would spring up in a city or town, and the congregation itself would be known
and referred to as "the saints in
Corinth" or the "saints at
Jerusalem". As time went on, the title gradually also came to refer to
particular individuals whose lives and ministries had in one way or another,
significantly reflected the working of the Holy Spirit in the world.
When we pray
"I believe in the Communion of
Saints" in
the Apostles' Creed, we're using both
of those meanings. All Christians are a part of that earthly extended family we call
the “church”. And it is the church in which God's work of salvation and
redemption and sanctification is continually going on. But every now and then,
we encounter someone within the fellowship, who’s life has been graced with a
degree of integrity or holiness that is so evident we cannot help but recognize
it in them.
This gift
isn't made evident to glorify them, but rather to glorify God. This is not for their benefit, but
rather for ours. In Hebrews 12:1 we read,
Therefore,
since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses,
let us lay
aside every weight and sin which clings so closely,
and
let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.
Sainthood is
more than a model for the Christian life we read about in books. Sainthood is
more than a model we perceive in the occasional sister or brother. Sainthood is
also a vocation-- and we are all of us called to it by our Baptisms. It is our
task as Christians-- our aim. We strive to be faithful to that vocation. We
strive to live as those whose lives are tangible signs in the world of the New
Life that Jesus Christ brings.
And yet at
the same time, you and I are also saints—in that New Testament sense of being
the assembled people of our Lord. We too, gather together in small groups,
surrounded by a hostile, or at least indifferent society. We too, strive to be
faithful witnesses to the Gospel in our own corner of this fragmented,
alienated world. We too, are part of that world-wide ageless and eternal
communion of God's faithful people.
We all know
those people who claim they can worship God in the beauty of nature. What they usually mean by that is on the golf
course. We've all met those people who
claim that you can be a good Christian without ever having to set foot inside a
church. What they usually mean by that is that they'd rather sleep in on Sunday
morning.
The plain
fact of the matter is, they're wrong. You and I need one another to support
and nurture and help and lift up. We need corporate worship and prayer. We need mutual accountability in order to
simply become true human beings— much less saints— the kind and gentle and
caring people our Maker calls each and every one of us to become.
There's an
old saying that no one ever got into heaven alone. Speaking of Heaven, I recall
the story of the time Saint Peter was showing a new arrival around. In one room people were dancing, drinking,
playing cards and carousing. "They're Baptists," Peter said.
"They never had a chance to do this on earth." In the next room the
people were quietly sitting in rocking chairs.
"These
are Episcopalians. They had all their
fun on earth and now they’re tired."
In the next room, Peter said,
"Sssh,
please be quiet. These are the Methodists and they think they're the only ones
up here."
Jokes aside,
there's real truth there. None of us are going to encounter whatever plane of
existence or reward or state of grace that God has in store for the faithful
after this life, solely on our own efforts or merit. Christians, real
Christians, authentic saints are always part of a living fellowship. We
can't divorce ourselves from one another.
That's why Worship is always corporate. Prayer can be individual,
devotions can be private, but to worship God, we need to be praying, singing,
praising, confessing and communing together - -as part of a congregation.
The
Sanctuary-- the Sunday morning or occasional evening Service, is for us together. It is the time to come together before our Maker and listen,
and praise, and be ministered to as a
people. The purpose of Worship is not to make me feel good, or pious, or
virtuous, or saved, or religious. The single, ultimate, only real purpose of
Worship is for us to glorify God together as the people of God.
The function
of Christ's church is to be an environment in which saints are created and
nurtured-- together-- in community-- in communion. You and I are called
together in fellowship and in worship in order that we might grow-- in order
that we might support and minister to one another in our growth.
"We share each other's woes, our mutual burdens
bear". We
support one another. And we support the community that we are a part of. With
our prayers, our presence, our gifts and our service.
To truly be a
saint is to want to take
responsibility for the on-going, successful, growth and flourishing of the
community of faith. Why? Because we love for the people who make it up
community, because we love our God, and because we love this world where God
has placed us.
That's what Stewardship is about. That's what Fellowship is about. That's what Evangelism is about. That's what Christian Education is
about. And in the end, that's what
Sainthood is about.
We’ve all
known one or two saints in our lives. How often have we used the expression,
"that woman is a saint"? Some of our African-American sisters and
brothers even have a kind of popular folk theology built around contemporary
sainthood. They call it "Aunt Jane" Christianity.
Aunt Jane is
an imaginary lady who lives in every church. She is the long-suffering sister
who works every church supper without complaining, or drawing attention to
herself or her efforts. She puts the greater part of her Social Security check
into the offering plate every week. She is honorary grand-mother to half the
children in the congregation. She is willing at a moment's notice to substitute
teach any class in the Sunday School-- even the Junior Highs.
She's in
church every Sunday. She visits all the shut-ins and sick-- quite often before
the Pastor can get to them. She would
never presume to judge or tell anyone else what or how to believe. She would
never get involved in a church fight. She has heard the personal troubles of
half the people in the congregation-- but she would never repeat them-- never
gossip-- not even out of so-called “concern” or so that we can supposedly pray
for them.
Aunt Jane
would be the last one to call herself a saint. She might be a woman or a man.
She might be brown, tan, pink. She might be young, middle- aged, or older. Whatever she looks like, Aunt Jane is a
saint. And we all know her. We all have
met her at least once. We all have been blessed by her.
The Pope, the
College of Cardinals, the World Council of Churches, even the World Methodist
Council cannot make a saint. Saints of all colors, genders, and tongues have
lived and thrived in local congregations in every age, in every denomination, on every continent, and in the church at
large. So long as there are still saints, we can be sure that the church is
still being blessed by God.
Some saints
we know and name-- like Francis and the others I mentioned earlier. Others we
know of, but never get the title—Luther, The Wesleys, Dr. King, Dag Hammarskjald, Sojourner Truth,
Dorothy Day, Jane Addams, Cesar Chavez, Nelson Mandella.
Still other
saints-- most of them in fact-- are anonymous to all except those they touch
with their love. The husband of a terminally ill mother, your fourth grade
Sunday School teacher, the long-suffering child of an alcoholic, the parent of
a substance abuser, the cancer victim whose dying becomes as much of an
inspiration as was their living, the pastor who inspired you as a child, Aunt
Jane.
Yet all of
them and many, many more, throughout time and space, are part of the Communion
of Saints, the community of the Holy Spirit. They have lived their lives and
they will die their deaths for the coming of Christ's Realm. And we are part of
them. And they are a part of us. St. John Chrysostom wrote:
"When I fall down, thousands with me fall at that moment.
And when I rise, others, too follow
me."
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