All Saints’ Day: 7 November 2010
A Service of Memory at Lonsdale United Methodist Church
(Sirach 44:1-10, 13-15/1 Corinthians 11:23-26)
A Poor Sort of Memory
Grace to you, and peace, from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ.
In the little corner of the Kingdom of God that I occupy, I would now greet my brothers and sisters in the Lord with these words: The Lord be with you.
And they would respond: And also with you.
And so, my dear brothers and sister in the Lord in this holy place, I greet you in the Lord’s name: The Lord be with you.
Let us pray.
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.
Hear the word of the Lord, given to Ben Sirach, some two centuries before the birth of Christ.
Let us now sing the praises of famous men,
our ancestors in their generations.
The Lord apportioned to them great glory,
his majesty from the beginning.
There were those who ruled in their kingdoms,
and made a name for themselves by their valor;
those who gave counsel because they were intelligent;
those who spoke in prophetic oracles;
those who led the people by their counsels
and by their knowledge of the people's lore;
they were wise in their words of instruction;
those who composed musical tunes,
or put verses in writing;
rich men endowed with resources,
living peacefully in their homes--
all these were honored in their generations,
and were the pride of their times.
Some of them have left behind a name,
so that others declare their praise.
But of others there is no memory;
they have perished as though they had never existed;
they have become as though they had never been born,
they and their children after them.
But these also were godly men,
whose righteous deeds have not been forgotten;
Their offspring will continue forever,
and their glory will never be blotted out.
Their bodies are buried in peace,
but their name lives on generation after generation.
The assembly declares their wisdom,
[1] Unless otherwise noted, all scripture is taken from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989, Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
A Service of Memory at Lonsdale United Methodist Church
(Sirach 44:1-10, 13-15/1 Corinthians 11:23-26)
A Poor Sort of Memory
Grace to you, and peace, from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ.
In the little corner of the Kingdom of God that I occupy, I would now greet my brothers and sisters in the Lord with these words: The Lord be with you.
And they would respond: And also with you.
And so, my dear brothers and sister in the Lord in this holy place, I greet you in the Lord’s name: The Lord be with you.
Let us pray.
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.
Hear the word of the Lord, given to Ben Sirach, some two centuries before the birth of Christ.
Let us now sing the praises of famous men,
our ancestors in their generations.
The Lord apportioned to them great glory,
his majesty from the beginning.
There were those who ruled in their kingdoms,
and made a name for themselves by their valor;
those who gave counsel because they were intelligent;
those who spoke in prophetic oracles;
those who led the people by their counsels
and by their knowledge of the people's lore;
they were wise in their words of instruction;
those who composed musical tunes,
or put verses in writing;
rich men endowed with resources,
living peacefully in their homes--
all these were honored in their generations,
and were the pride of their times.
Some of them have left behind a name,
so that others declare their praise.
But of others there is no memory;
they have perished as though they had never existed;
they have become as though they had never been born,
they and their children after them.
But these also were godly men,
whose righteous deeds have not been forgotten;
Their offspring will continue forever,
and their glory will never be blotted out.
Their bodies are buried in peace,
but their name lives on generation after generation.
The assembly declares their wisdom,
and the congregation proclaims their praise (Ecclus 44:1-10, 13-15)[1].
On this feast of All Saints’, the scripture, and our hearts, tell us that it is a good and right and holy thing for the body of Christ to assemble and declare the wisdom of our fathers and mothers, to proclaim the praise of our godly brothers and sisters in the Lord – parents, children, husbands, wives, friends, relations – who have preceded us to the reward that awaits us all in Christ Jesus. So, let us sing the praises of those gone before, indeed; let us recount their righteous deeds. Let us remember.
Such memory lies very near the heart of our faith, and has from the beginning. The defining moment of the Jewish experience was, and is, the Exodus from Egypt, the moment when the Covenant God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob became the Savior God of his people, when he delivered them from bondage with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. And even before that deliverance was complete, God had given his people a way to remember it: blood smeared on the doorposts and lintels of the houses; a hurried meal of roasted lamb, bitter herbs, unleavened bread, and wine; a festival of praise – the Passover.
“This day shall be a day of remembrance for you. You shall celebrate it as a festival to the LORD; throughout your generations you shall observe it as a perpetual ordinance.
When you come to the land that the LORD will give you, as he has promised, you shall keep this observance. And when your children ask you, ‘What do you mean by this observance?’ you shall say, ‘It is the Passover sacrifice to the LORD, for he passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt, when he struck down the Egyptians but spared our houses.’” And [hearing this] the people bowed down and worshiped (Ex 12:14, 25-27).
Such memory lies very near the heart of our faith, and has from the beginning. The defining moment of the Christian experience was, and is, the crucifixion, the moment when God the Son became God the Savior of all people, when he delivered them from the bondage of sin and death with pierced hands and outstretched arms. And even before that deliverance was complete, our Lord had given his people a way to remember it: blood poured out and body broken – the bread of heaven and the cup of salvation – a festival of thanksgiving, the Eucharist.
[The] Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, 24and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ 25In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’ 26For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes (1 Cor 11:23b-26).
Such memory lies very near the heart of our faith, and has from the beginning.
The defining moment of the Church was, and is, Pentecost, the moment when God the Holy Spirit became God the Sanctifier of all flesh – sons and daughters, young men and old men, slaves, both men and women – when he filled them and empowered them with a mighty wind and with flames of fire. And even before the wind died down and the flames guttered out, our Lord had given his Church a way to remember.
So those who welcomed [Peter’s] message were baptized, and that day about three thousand persons were added. They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers (Acts 2:41-42).
Yes, memory lies very near the heart of our faith, and has from the beginning. So, we remember the Exodus, which is, after all, our story, too – the story of all the spiritual offspring of Abraham. We remember the Lord’s death with bread and wine. We remember the Spirit’s presence with baptism, with the apostles’ teaching, with our fellowship, with the breaking of bread – the Lord’s Supper and our potluck suppers – and with the prayers. We remember too, the saints gone before: their righteous deeds, their witness, their encouragement. As Saint Paul reminds the Hebrews and us, we are surrounded by them, a great cloud of witnesses – the saints – among whom we count those whose names we call in this place and whose lives we celebrate on this day. Thanks be to God who is glorious in his saints.
Memory is central to our faith, but not just any kind of memory will do. As the White Queen said to Alice in Through the Looking Glass: “It is a poor sort of memory that only works backwards.” And, if true for Alice, how much more so for the people of God. It is a poor sort of memory that only works backwards – poor and unbecoming a faith such as ours. The beginning of the revelation of Jesus Christ given to Saint John is these words of Christ: “I am the Alpha and the Omega,” to which John adds, “who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty” (Rev 1:8) – past, present, and future. And near the end of that same revelation – after seals are broken and trumpets blown and bowls poured out, after angels and beasts and dragons – the same words again: “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end” (Rev 22:13). The Alpha and the Omega, Jesus says repeatedly: I am the A and the Z. The trouble is, in this spiritual alphabet, we live somewhere around L, M, N, O, or P – stuck in the middle, far from A and Z. What we must have, then, is the kind of memory that looks not only backwards toward Alpha, but forward toward Omega, as well. What we must have is the kind of memory that Jesus sanctified when he gave us his great feast of memory: “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” The communion we share with bread and wine, body and blood, is precisely the kind of memory we need. It is a memory that looks backwards to the Lord’s death and forward to his coming again. It is a poor sort of memory that only works backwards, but a powerful and holy memory that stands in the middle of time and sees both the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.
If our memory works only backwards, then this day’s All Saints’ observance, this service of memory we share, is a sad and pitiable thing: a time to remember what we once had but now have lost forever, a time to mourn love defeated by death, a time to stand helpless and hopeless before the same end that awaits us all. This is not celebration but lament, not feast but fast.
So, what is it that makes the difference between a poor sort of memory that works only backwards and a holy memory that stands in the middle of time and sees both beginning and end, A and Z, Alpha and Omega? What is it that allows us to stand in the midst of death and indescribable loss and yet see life and immeasurable gain? It is the great, good news of the gospel we proclaim this day and every day: Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life. It is the ancient victory cry of the church: “Christos anesti. Alithos anesti. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!” It is the grand truth of Christ’s unconquerable love and boundless eternal life that allows us to stand by the graveside and through our tears yet raise the victory song, Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! It is the faith of the saints gone before – the faith of these holy men and women we remember this day – saints far away and saints near, saints kin to us in spirit and saints kin to us in blood. This is what makes the difference between a poor sort of memory that works only backwards and a holy memory that stands in the middle of uncertain and troubled times and looks both backwards to God’s promises and forward to God’s blessings: Christ’s death, resurrection, and coming again.
If Christ has been raised, then we who are his will also be raised with him and like him. If Christ has been raised, then these saints we remember surround us not in silent, past testimony only, but as a living and present cloud of witnesses, cheering us on in the race of faith set before us, struggling with us for our salvation. If Christ has been raised, then
What I am saying, brothers and sisters, is this: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. 51Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed, 52in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. 53For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality. 54When this perishable body puts on imperishability, and this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled:‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’ 55 ‘Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?’ 56The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Cor 15:50-57).
And so, brothers and sisters, know this:
Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have died. For since death came through a [man], the resurrection of the dead has also come through a [man]; for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ (1 Cor 15:20-22).
Thanks be to God for a holy and glorious memory that works both backwards and forward. And now, looking forward brothers and sisters, now is the time of our sainthood. Now is the time, in the presence of this great cloud of witnesses, for us to lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely. Now is the time for us to “run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb 12:1-2, adapted). Now is the time for us to be “steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because [we] know that in the Lord [our] labor is not in vain” (1 Cor 15:58, adapted). Now is the time to celebrate the saints gone before. Now is the time to celebrate the saints among us. Now is the time for us to take our place in that great cloud of witnesses. Now is the time to remember.
Let us pray.
Almighty God, you have surrounded us with a great cloud of witnesses:
Grant that we, encouraged by the good example of your servants,
may persevere in running the race that is set before us,
until at last we may with them attain to your eternal joy;
through Jesus Christ, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
On this feast of All Saints’, the scripture, and our hearts, tell us that it is a good and right and holy thing for the body of Christ to assemble and declare the wisdom of our fathers and mothers, to proclaim the praise of our godly brothers and sisters in the Lord – parents, children, husbands, wives, friends, relations – who have preceded us to the reward that awaits us all in Christ Jesus. So, let us sing the praises of those gone before, indeed; let us recount their righteous deeds. Let us remember.
Such memory lies very near the heart of our faith, and has from the beginning. The defining moment of the Jewish experience was, and is, the Exodus from Egypt, the moment when the Covenant God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob became the Savior God of his people, when he delivered them from bondage with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. And even before that deliverance was complete, God had given his people a way to remember it: blood smeared on the doorposts and lintels of the houses; a hurried meal of roasted lamb, bitter herbs, unleavened bread, and wine; a festival of praise – the Passover.
“This day shall be a day of remembrance for you. You shall celebrate it as a festival to the LORD; throughout your generations you shall observe it as a perpetual ordinance.
When you come to the land that the LORD will give you, as he has promised, you shall keep this observance. And when your children ask you, ‘What do you mean by this observance?’ you shall say, ‘It is the Passover sacrifice to the LORD, for he passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt, when he struck down the Egyptians but spared our houses.’” And [hearing this] the people bowed down and worshiped (Ex 12:14, 25-27).
Such memory lies very near the heart of our faith, and has from the beginning. The defining moment of the Christian experience was, and is, the crucifixion, the moment when God the Son became God the Savior of all people, when he delivered them from the bondage of sin and death with pierced hands and outstretched arms. And even before that deliverance was complete, our Lord had given his people a way to remember it: blood poured out and body broken – the bread of heaven and the cup of salvation – a festival of thanksgiving, the Eucharist.
[The] Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, 24and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ 25In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’ 26For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes (1 Cor 11:23b-26).
Such memory lies very near the heart of our faith, and has from the beginning.
The defining moment of the Church was, and is, Pentecost, the moment when God the Holy Spirit became God the Sanctifier of all flesh – sons and daughters, young men and old men, slaves, both men and women – when he filled them and empowered them with a mighty wind and with flames of fire. And even before the wind died down and the flames guttered out, our Lord had given his Church a way to remember.
So those who welcomed [Peter’s] message were baptized, and that day about three thousand persons were added. They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers (Acts 2:41-42).
Yes, memory lies very near the heart of our faith, and has from the beginning. So, we remember the Exodus, which is, after all, our story, too – the story of all the spiritual offspring of Abraham. We remember the Lord’s death with bread and wine. We remember the Spirit’s presence with baptism, with the apostles’ teaching, with our fellowship, with the breaking of bread – the Lord’s Supper and our potluck suppers – and with the prayers. We remember too, the saints gone before: their righteous deeds, their witness, their encouragement. As Saint Paul reminds the Hebrews and us, we are surrounded by them, a great cloud of witnesses – the saints – among whom we count those whose names we call in this place and whose lives we celebrate on this day. Thanks be to God who is glorious in his saints.
Memory is central to our faith, but not just any kind of memory will do. As the White Queen said to Alice in Through the Looking Glass: “It is a poor sort of memory that only works backwards.” And, if true for Alice, how much more so for the people of God. It is a poor sort of memory that only works backwards – poor and unbecoming a faith such as ours. The beginning of the revelation of Jesus Christ given to Saint John is these words of Christ: “I am the Alpha and the Omega,” to which John adds, “who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty” (Rev 1:8) – past, present, and future. And near the end of that same revelation – after seals are broken and trumpets blown and bowls poured out, after angels and beasts and dragons – the same words again: “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end” (Rev 22:13). The Alpha and the Omega, Jesus says repeatedly: I am the A and the Z. The trouble is, in this spiritual alphabet, we live somewhere around L, M, N, O, or P – stuck in the middle, far from A and Z. What we must have, then, is the kind of memory that looks not only backwards toward Alpha, but forward toward Omega, as well. What we must have is the kind of memory that Jesus sanctified when he gave us his great feast of memory: “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” The communion we share with bread and wine, body and blood, is precisely the kind of memory we need. It is a memory that looks backwards to the Lord’s death and forward to his coming again. It is a poor sort of memory that only works backwards, but a powerful and holy memory that stands in the middle of time and sees both the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.
If our memory works only backwards, then this day’s All Saints’ observance, this service of memory we share, is a sad and pitiable thing: a time to remember what we once had but now have lost forever, a time to mourn love defeated by death, a time to stand helpless and hopeless before the same end that awaits us all. This is not celebration but lament, not feast but fast.
So, what is it that makes the difference between a poor sort of memory that works only backwards and a holy memory that stands in the middle of time and sees both beginning and end, A and Z, Alpha and Omega? What is it that allows us to stand in the midst of death and indescribable loss and yet see life and immeasurable gain? It is the great, good news of the gospel we proclaim this day and every day: Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life. It is the ancient victory cry of the church: “Christos anesti. Alithos anesti. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!” It is the grand truth of Christ’s unconquerable love and boundless eternal life that allows us to stand by the graveside and through our tears yet raise the victory song, Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! It is the faith of the saints gone before – the faith of these holy men and women we remember this day – saints far away and saints near, saints kin to us in spirit and saints kin to us in blood. This is what makes the difference between a poor sort of memory that works only backwards and a holy memory that stands in the middle of uncertain and troubled times and looks both backwards to God’s promises and forward to God’s blessings: Christ’s death, resurrection, and coming again.
If Christ has been raised, then we who are his will also be raised with him and like him. If Christ has been raised, then these saints we remember surround us not in silent, past testimony only, but as a living and present cloud of witnesses, cheering us on in the race of faith set before us, struggling with us for our salvation. If Christ has been raised, then
What I am saying, brothers and sisters, is this: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. 51Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed, 52in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. 53For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality. 54When this perishable body puts on imperishability, and this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled:‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’ 55 ‘Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?’ 56The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Cor 15:50-57).
And so, brothers and sisters, know this:
Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have died. For since death came through a [man], the resurrection of the dead has also come through a [man]; for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ (1 Cor 15:20-22).
Thanks be to God for a holy and glorious memory that works both backwards and forward. And now, looking forward brothers and sisters, now is the time of our sainthood. Now is the time, in the presence of this great cloud of witnesses, for us to lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely. Now is the time for us to “run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb 12:1-2, adapted). Now is the time for us to be “steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because [we] know that in the Lord [our] labor is not in vain” (1 Cor 15:58, adapted). Now is the time to celebrate the saints gone before. Now is the time to celebrate the saints among us. Now is the time for us to take our place in that great cloud of witnesses. Now is the time to remember.
Let us pray.
Almighty God, you have surrounded us with a great cloud of witnesses:
Grant that we, encouraged by the good example of your servants,
may persevere in running the race that is set before us,
until at last we may with them attain to your eternal joy;
through Jesus Christ, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
[1] Unless otherwise noted, all scripture is taken from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989, Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
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