Lost in Wonder, Love and Praise

Lost in Wonder Love and Praise

All Saints Sunday 2012
A Sermon Preached by Rob Lee

Will you pray with me?

            Almighty God, you have knit together your elect in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of your Son Christ our Lord. Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints in all virtuous and godly living, that we may come to those ineffable joys that you have prepared for those who truly love you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.

            Have you ever been lost? I can remember as a young boy scout getting lost from my group in the wilderness of Mt. Rogers in Virginia. That inescapable feeling of being alone, that fear of wanting to find your group, that gut feeling that says to stay put but you just want to run and find your people.

            I feel like the Gospel text today paints a picture of Jesus being lost. John 11 is one of those passages that paints a very human side of Jesus, a Jesus lost in his own emotions, a profoundly human moment in the Gospels. We who claim the name of Christian believe that Jesus was fully human and fully divine, so in every sense of belief we understand that Jesus experienced the loss of someone close to him.

            I can remember very vividly my first encounter in being lost in sainthood. It was three years ago around this time. I was lost in the reality of death and despair having lost a friend I loved very deeply. But as I was lost in the mystery of death I became enthralled in the beauty of sainthood. My friend was now close to the heart of God, and in turn her loss and death brought me closer to the heart of God.

            You know there’s a Divinity School on the other side of the state in Durham North Carolina. I’m sure some of you have heard of it, it’s in God’s country as l like to say, and they have a pretty decent basketball team but the reason I’m a fan isn’t for their basketball. You see on the campus of Duke University there’s a massive architectural masterpiece called Duke Chapel. This cathedral like structure has a mission statement that reminds me of the saints, “Keeping the university listening to the heart of God.” The saints a lot like that chapel point towards something greater than themselves. So today I want to tell the story of three saints, saints that have pointed me to the heart of God, and compare them to the Gospel text.

            The first saint I admire when I look to the vast canopy woven by the ages is a man by the name of William Sloane Coffin. William Sloane Coffin reminds me of wonderment of this transient life. Though I never met Reverend Coffin, his books and writings and examples have paved the way for me to be a better Christian and human being. In fact one of the first theological writings I read in my younger days were that of William Sloane Coffin. Bill Coffin grew up as an athlete, a pianist, a CIA agent and even chaplain of Yale University. He served as minister at the prestigious Riverside Church in New York City and was president of the nation’s largest anti-war movement during the Vietnam War. Bill said some interesting things in his life, you know marching with people like Martin Luther King Jr. and talking with people like Nelson Mandela.

            But what makes Bill a saint in my book is a sermon he preached about death in the 1980’s while at Riverside Church. Reverend Coffin says this, “Death is more friend than foe. Consider the only alternative-life without death. Life without death would be unbearable. We’d take days just to get out of bed, weeks to decide what’s next… Students would never graduate; trustee meetings would go on for months. Chances are we’d be as bored as the gods of ancient Greece and come up with some of the same mischievous tricks. Death cannot be the enemy if it’s death that brings us life. For just as without leave-taking there can be no arrival; without growing older there can be no growing up; without tears, no laughter; so without death there can be no living. Death also enhances our common life. Death is the great equalizer because it mocks our preconceived notions at being anything else but equal. In the face of death the differences of race, class, nationality, sexual orientation all become known for the trivial things that ultimately are.”

            Those lines that Bill spoke reminded me of the Gospel today, reminded me of the wonder that must have been about as the author of John writes, “Jesus said to them, "Unbind him and let him go." Bill understood at least to me that the reality of faith is one of standing for the oppressed, the downtrodden and the broken. Bill knew what it was like to be arrested, to be accused of standing for what’s right and he took it in stride. What will happen when we have to stand before the Creator of Heaven and earth and account for our actions? Will we hear the words, “well done, good and faithful servant!” Or will we hear something else? Will we be the people are willing to be arrested for change and progress or will be the ones standing on the sideline proclaiming, ‘Not yet.’

            The next saint I want to tell you about is one of praise. Wilma never liked her name, more to the point she despised her middle name, Ann. Her brothers and her sisters would call her that name just to bug her. But Wilma lived a long and fulfilling life, after a while people didn’t even recognize her by her given name, she became known to me, to my family, and to my community as Grandmother. My great grandmother was from the beginning of my life a source of prevenient grace. She was grace present in my life before I knew what it meant to have grace in my life. Though I have very vague memories of Grandmother one of the most prolific memories of her is of her faith and witness. She was the person that knew how to pray, that knew how to go to church, she was the example that I now as an adult try to follow. Frederick Buechner writes, “In his holy flirtation with the world, God occasionally drops a pocket handkerchiefs, these handkerchiefs are called the saints.” Wilma was a handkerchief… Or as Kenneth Leech said, “To pray is to open oneself to the possibility of becoming set on fire by the Spirit.” Grandmother in her later years knew that God was God and that she was God’s beloved.

            When I think of Grandmother I think of the text, John 11:41 that says, “So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, "Father, I thank you for having heard me.” She knew her place in the world and knew that her God had called her to be there. Why can’t we follow that example?

            Finally I am reminded of a saint whom I love very deeply. Abbey was a person who for all intents and purposes changed my life. Abbey and I grew up together, often attended Bible School and inter-school functions such as Cotillion and such. When we got to High School our relationship deepened even further as we had many of the same classes together, hung out with the same people and often were at the same events. Abbey loved to hear me preach, and I loved to hear Abbey laugh. As we grew together in faith and friendship it became clear that it was a friendship built to last.

            Three years ago this past Wednesday Abbey was killed in a car accident. I can remember awaking Halloween day to a phone call that changed my life and trajectory of ministry forever. I received a call from a mutual friend with the shocking news, then later that morning I received a call from Abbey’s parents asking me to preach at her funeral. Abbey changed my life and worked her magic again as over a thousand people heard the proclamation of grace in Abbey’s life when I preached. I’m not trying to toot my own horn but that was a turning point for me in ministry when I realized that God had called me to something greater than myself. So for me, Abbey is a saint because day after day, when I think of her I think of my calling, and the preciousness of joy and laughter. As the Gospel text proclaims, “See how Jesus loved him!” I think of the love that I had for Abbey and the love she had for me that still exists to this day. Though Abbey and I won’t see each other this side of Heaven we can be assured in Heaven’s love and grace.

            Friends we are called. We are called to be saints. We are called not because we are able, or strong or mighty, it may actually be the exact opposite. God calls the willing and makes them saints.  Think of the saints in your life, how they’ve changed you, how they’ve shaped you. St. Bill, St. Wilma and St. Abbey changed my life in a profound way. But we can’t just be content with that change.

            I’m reminded of Soren Kierkegaard told a parable about how we ignore that change. Imagine a community of geese. Every Sunday these geese came to worship and the goose preacher preached an amazing sermon about how lofty the destiny of the geese were. The goose’s true home is in the sky he proclaimed. Throughout the sermon the geese nodded their heads in agreement. But when the worship was over, instead of flying to the heavens the geese waddled home.

            We who are followers of the resurrected Jesus have a great example before us, and that’s a good thing because as the hymn goes, “The task looms large before us.” I am reminded of how some translations put the end of the book of Revelation… One translation puts it this way, “Even still, come Lord Jesus.” That can be our prayer today. Even amidst the war, the pain, the prejudice the hate, even amidst our own faults and failings, even still, come Lord Jesus. Come and make us saints who are reconciled and redeemed people. Being a saint is about falling down and with God’s help getting back up, being a saint is about being released from our afflictions, being a saint is keeping people listening to the heart of God and most importantly being a saint is about being lost. Lost in wonder, love, and praise. Even still, come Lord Jesus. Amen.