for all the saints: all saints sunday sermon

a reading from isaiah

⁶on this mountain the lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear. ⁷and he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever. ⁸then the lord god will wipe away the tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the lord has spoken.

⁹it will be said on that day, lo, this is our god; we have waited for him, so that he might save us. this is the lord for whom we have waited; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.

word of god, word of life,

(thanks be to god)

the gospel according to john the 11^th chapter:

³²when mary came where jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

³³when jesus saw her weeping, and the jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. ³⁴he said, “where have you laid him?”

they said to him, “lord, come and see.”

³⁵jesus began to weep.

³⁶so the jews said, “see how he loved him!”

³⁷but some of them said, “could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

³⁸then jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. it was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. ³⁹jesus said, “take away the stone.”

martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.”

⁴⁰jesus said to her, “did i not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of god?” ⁴¹so they took away the stone. and jesus looked upward and said, “father, i thank you for having heard me. ⁴²i knew that you always hear me, but i have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.”

⁴³when he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, “lazarus, come out!”

⁴⁴the dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth.

jesus said to them, “unbind him, and let him go.”

the gospel of the lord

(praise to you, o christ)

like lazarus, we are swallowed up by death.  death is all around us: in loved ones who have passed away, in natural disasters like sandy, and in the wars going on in this world.  there is death and tragedy and it binds us up and closes us into the tomb with lazarus, it closes us in on ourselves. 

this death that closes us in is not always loss of life.  death can be bullying at school, job loss, constant negative attack ads on tv, homelessness and hunger, it is the culture of violence in which we live where games teach us to kill and innocent lives are forever marred by assault, where the violence against women act has become a partisan issue, preventing it from making its way through congress.  we live daily surrounded by death, a shroud cast over all of us.

and yet, in the midst of our death, jesus comes to us.  jesus comes to our tomb and mobilizes the forces: first the stone must be taken away—the protests are clear: already there is a stench!!  the stench of death uncovered, named, revealed for what it is. 

as we stand with hands and feet bound, death is all-consuming.  there is no other way.  we see, hear, smell, and touch death.  still, as the stone rolls away a gust of fresh air blows in and we catch a whiff of the feast isaiah describes.  a feast of rich food and well-aged wine.  a feast of celebration.  a feast of new life.  a feast that comes to us in our death, in our tomb, and lures us out.  calling us forth into the world. 

this feast is not just your average mcdonald’s fare.  it is homemade goodness, cooked and baked and made with more love than that with which my dad makes his famous shell dinner or grandma bakes that perfect pie.  it is a nourishing filling feast better than thanksgiving! 

and it beckons to us with the scent of new life as jesus calls to lazarus, “lazarus, come out!” and again jesus calls to you and to me “come out!”

we peak out from our place of death.  it may not be pleasant in here, but at least we know it.  we know the pain and the sorrow of death.  we know what to expect.  but jesus is calling! 

so… we step out of the tomb.  the stone has been rolled away and there is a feast set for all people.  we are still labeled as dead, and yet there is new life rolling over us.  we stand, hands and feet bound, face wrapped in cloth, and hear jesus call to the community: “unbind them, and let them go.” 

as our community descends on us, god is at work, “destroying the shroud that is cast over all peoples,” “swallowing up death forever.”  god comes to us and through us, releasing us from the pain and sorrow of death, setting a feast for all people and all nations.  the key, as isaiah articulates, is that this feast god has prepared for you and for me, is not just a feast for us here, it is a feast for all.

just as jesus calls on the community to unbind lazarus, so too god calls us into community in the feast prepared for all.  jesus does the hard work of raising us all from the dead, and then calls us to one another                        to unbind each other                         and to be unbound by each other. 

our gospel does not say that god helps those who help themselves.  our gospel is: god loves us all and sets a feast [indicate table] for all of us to come together to love and serve all people, to seek the good of all, so that all might be fed with the bread of life and all might drink from the spring of the water of life.

and there is enough and more than enough for all people.  when god sets a feast, god sets it in abundance.  the richest of foods and best of drinks, set for celebration.  found in the midst of judgment, the reading from isaiah assures us with the promise of life; the promise that god will indeed “swallow up death forever.”  the feast for all people is the feast that sets all people free; the feast that promises life abundant. 

yet here we are waiting.  still waiting for that feast.  still waiting for death to be swallowed up.  waiting and yearning for god to come and set the feast.  perhaps that is why there is still a bit of a stench.  in the news, in the world, in our lives, there’s still a stench of death around us.  that stench that says we are living in what is called the “already and not yet.”  god in jesus has already set the feast, has swallowed up death forever, but not yet do we understand that reality.  not yet do we live that difference.

we still wait.  we wait for the feast for all people.  we wait for death to be swallowed up,             even             as we know                         the feast is set and death is swallowed up.  god sets a feast for all people and every sunday we come to the feast, and even as we eat the bread and drink the wine, we are still waiting. 

as in communion so too in our lives we get foretastes of the feast to come, even as we wait.  we get a foretaste as a friend stands up to the bully or a teacher steps in.  we get a foretaste when we get a job-lead or we find a new use for our free time to benefit another, when we get an hour of peace on tv—or even just when we look ahead to wednesday’s freedom from political ads.  last night i got a foretaste of the feast at the mlm banquet, hearing about all that mlm is doing for the poorest of the poor here in kansas city.  we get a foretaste of the feast in shelters and organizations that care for survivors and in the people in our lives who come to unbind us with love and care—hugs and a listening ear.

we have but a foretaste of the feast to come and yet it is enough of a chance that we have the opportunity to begin to live into this new life, this feast.  in the waters of baptism our not yet collides with our already.  as the water is poured over us and the words are spoken, we are joined together with jesus in his death so that we might also be joined to him in the resurrection.  already and not yet.

so then,                         how do we choose to live?  do we live into the already feast, trusting in god’s abundance for all people?  do we live into the already community that jesus has called together to unbind us and to unbind each other? 

or do we live into the not yet of waiting for god to act—waiting for god’s promises to be fulfilled the way we expect?  do we live into the not yet of the tomb?

how we live reveals who we are.  when we choose to live into the already of god’s feast—of jesus’ reign—we join with all the saints.  we all come to the feast and as we each go forth sealed by the holy spirit and marked with the cross of christ forever, we look back at the lessons of love, gratitude, and generosity—and sometimes lessons of what not to do—that we’ve received from the saints who’ve passed away.  and we look to the future—to rhys and the other newly baptized saints full of life.  and we look to the present—all the saints in all the world.

in our living and our dying, in all we do.  in our voting.  

we get to live into the already.  concerned that all might join in the feast, that all people and all nations might have enough—food, water, safety, and support.

especially this week as we go to the polls we have the opportunity to live into the already.  we get to vote for all the saints. 

with our votes we get to care for the good of all people. 

with our votes we get to care for creation. 

with our votes we get to live into the already of god’s feast of celebration. 

with our votes we get to heed jesus’ call to “unbind them and let them go” and we ourselves get to be unbound. 

in all we do we have the chance to live into god’s already: in school, in work, in play, in church, in all our lives. 

in all    we do    and in how    we vote,       we get to do it    for    all    people.                      

amen!