After this I
looked, and there was a great crowd that no one could number. They were from every nation, tribe, people,
and language. They were standing before
the throne and before the Lamb. They
wore white robes and held palm branches in their hands. They cried out with a loud voice: “Victory
belongs to our God who sits on the throne and to the Lamb.” All the angles stood in a circle around the
throne, and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell facedown before the throne and
worshiped God, saying, “Amen! Blessing
and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our
God forever and always. Amen.”
Then one of
the elders said to me, “Who are these people wearing white robes, and where did
they come from?” I said to him, “Sir,
you know.” Then he said to me, “These
people have come out of the great hardship.
They have washed their robes and made them white in the Lamb’s
blood. This is the reason they are
before God’s throne. They worship him
day and night in his temple, and the one seated on the throne will shelter
them. They won’t hunger or thirst
anymore. No sun or scorching heat will
beat down on them, because the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will
shepherd them. He will lead them to the
springs of life-giving water and God will wipe away every tear from their
eyes.”
It is no coincidence that
a hallmark of Christian worship is music.
We sing our theology. Whether
thumbing through the hymnal for time-honored expressions of our faith, or
utilizing newer songs that continue to express the timeless message of our
faith for new generations, our songs of worship are a treasure trove of
Christian theology.
On this All Saints’
Sunday, when we celebrate the lives of those who have passed from this life
into the church triumphant, as we rejoice in lives that, in God’s love, do not
end, I think of the verse from that great hymn, The Church’s One Foundation:
“Yet we on earth have
union with God the three-in-one,”
“And mystic sweet
communion with those whose rest is won.”
I can’t sing that verse anymore without
getting choked up. It recalls to mind
all the saints in my life who have entered into their heavenly home and now
rest in the nearer presence of God. I
think of the saints whose lives I have celebrated in funeral and memorial
services. Though death is hard, the
tears that well up at those times are tempered with the knowledge that they
have been graciously received and embraced by God in the life to come.
The scripture we have just
read from the Bible’s last book, Revelation, gives us a glimpse of that life –
a place of perpetual worship, un-ending fellowship, where the trials and
difficulties of this life have melted like frost in the sun. The promise from God is that there will be no
crying, no weeping, no hurt or pain, no sickness, no suffering, and that God
himself will wipe every tear from their eyes.
What’s more – a reunion
awaits all of us in the not-too-distant future.
And, that reunion is closer than we realize. We don’t have to wait until we die; the
reunion can take place sooner than that.
Central to our faith,
confessed in the words of the Apostles’ Creed, is a belief in the communion of
saints. Friends on earth are connected
to our friends above. Think about the
intimacy of friendships and relationships that we experience as families and as
a church family – friends, those bonds of love do not end at death.
Ashley and I got back on
Friday evening from 9 days of vacation, driving ourselves around the desert
Southwest, some in Colorado, New Mexico, and Utah, but the bulk of our time was
in Arizona. We didn’t see everything,
but 1300 miles in 9 days, we certainly tried!
Arizona, you may know, is
a beautiful tapestry of Anglo, Native American, and Spanish influence all
melding together. With the build-up to
All Saints Day, everywhere we went, we saw signs that people were gearing up
for their celebrations of Dia de Los
Muertos, or Day of the Dead.
The origins of the day are
for people to remember those in their lives who have gone on ahead of them into
death and celebrate their lives – sounds an awful lot like what we do on All
Saints,’ doesn’t it?
The tradition in places
where Dia de Los Muertos is
celebrated are for families to spend the day in the cemeteries where their
loved ones are buried. They play games,
they sing songs, they pray prayers, they decorate the grave, and they share a
meal together, often bringing and leaving some portion of the meal – not as an
offering to the dead, as is commonly misunderstood – but as a way to include
their departed love in the celebration, acknowledging that though they have
died, they are still a part of the family, and when the family gathers together
to do what is central to families –sharing a meal – even those who have already
passed through the veil between this life and the life to come are still
granted a place at the table, and still included in the family’s meal.
I don’t know what you think about that, but it
sounds like communion of the saints, to me.
I can’t help but think that perhaps they have a more robust
understanding and experience of the communion of the saints than we do.
But, you don’t have to
come from a Spanish-speaking culture to understand and experience the communion
of the saints. It may not be in the
cemetery, but we have a meal, too, you know.
Every time we celebrate
Holy Communion, The Eucharist, the Lord’s Supper, the love and grace served in
even greater abundance than the large pieces of bread I give you serve to draw
us closer to God in Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit AND to everyone
else who gathers at the table. Communion
connects us to Christ, it makes us part of his body in a way that is as
tangible as the bread in our hands. And
all those who are connected to Christ are connected to each other. Those who have gone on to the Church
Triumphant are still connected to Christ, and therefore, still connected to us
and we to them. Nothing than divide
those who are connected to each other through Christ, not even the seeming
finality of death.
If you read a little
further in Revelation, you’ll see another description of heaven as a great
banquet, a wedding feast, a dinner party.
A good meal is a sign of the kingdom of God! A good meal is a foretaste of heaven! As a pastor, I’ve been to more covered-dish
suppers and funeral meals than I can remember.
I’ve seen things combined in casseroles that don’t belong together, and
things suspended in gelatin that should never be suspended in gelatin.
On more than one occasion,
someone will say, “Well, we don’t know what else to do, so we brought food,”
but can I tell you, making and sharing a meal is exactly what we should do!
It’s a way we show concern and care, and it’s a way we stay connected
with each other, even beyond death.
Imagine the Lord’s table
as standing in that mysterious place between this life and the life to
come. Picture two chairs at the table –
one on the front side and one on the back side.
That front chair is for us – it’s where we take our place at the
table. That chair is easy to see and
accessible. But what about that chair on
the back side? It’s a bit harder to see,
but it’s there. It’s for those saints
who have gone ahead of us into the fuller presence of God. Our communion liturgy witnesses to the
reality that we worship and fellowship among “God’s people on earth and all the
company of heaven.” And so, we in this
life take our seat on this side, and our friends who have gone on into the life
to come take their seat on the other, with Christ, the host of the meal, at the
center.
We are at the same meal,
reunited with loved ones as we all connected in Christ, and yet we know that
their reality is different from our own.
Our life still contains its fair share of suffering and difficulty,
tragedy and tears. But our friends
seated in that other seat – their life no longer includes pain and suffering
and tears. It doesn’t lessen that
reality for us, or make our grief any less real. You’ve heard the saying, “Time heals all
wounds,” but there are some wounds time will never heal completely. Those of you who have lived longer than I
have carry wounds that time has not healed. Lessened, perhaps, but not completely
healed. The fact is time doesn’t heal
wounds – God does – and some wounds will only receive complete healing in the
life to come. If you want to know what
Heaven looks like, it looks like healing.
It looks like mighty and powerful God intimately wiping away every tear
from every eye. That doesn’t take away
our pain, but perhaps it gives us some hope about what our loved ones on the
other side of the table now know and experience.
As we prepare to come to
the Lord’s table today, let us think of those who are in that seat on the other
side of the table. Joining us as we
feast and dine with Christ, filled and sustained with his love and grace, are
James Knight, Chic Aydelette, and Bobby Stanley. Today we break bread again with Minnie
Mitchell, Susie Wall, and Dalton Davis.
Today we share the cup with Calvin McGuire, Mable Jones, and Jean
Thornton. Not only today, but every time
we come to the Lord’s table.
Not only each of these,
but all the saints who have gone on to the Church Triumphant. In that banquet in heaven, I imagine it much
more like a covered-dish meal than a catered affair. The body of Christ is a place where each
member brings their best to the table, that’s true whether in heaven or on
earth.
This year, I think of
Ashley’s Papa Buddy, and his famous biscuits and coconut cake hitting the
table. I always think of my
grandparents, and Ashley’s grandparents, and my Mom. I know they’re joining us from the other side
of the table, and are already experiencing the fullness of that banquet from
that place where God has wiped every tear from their eyes
As we prepare to come to
the Lord’s table today, who is it you have pictured sitting at the table from
the other side, and what are they bringing?
Not even so much the food, but their characteristics and traits? Think of the impression they left upon us,
what of them still lives and grows beyond death, because it lives and grows in
each of us. Think of how the world today
is a little better reflection of the kingdom of God because they walked among
us.
Today, as we light candles
and see their light and feel their warmth, may we sense the presence of those
represented by each one. Today we dine
with Christ, one another, and even those who have gone on before us. Today, a bit of heaven has come to us, and
it’s as real as the bread in our hands.
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