In the Company of the Faithful

Scripture Lessons: Luke 6: 20-31 and Ephesians 1: 11-23 Preached on November 3, 2019 Sermon Title: In the Company of the Faithful All Saint’s Sunday is today, and soon I will read from the list of names printed there in your bulletin. This is the list of all church members who died in the last year, yet, to you and to me it is much more than a list of names and we will do more than read them. Because these are our people, we cannot read their names without acknowledging their significance. They are husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, friends and fellow church members, and by saying their names we see their faces, we hear their voices, and remember who they were. More than that, today we even go so far as to confess that they are saints. Knowing that while their earthly life is over, today we boldly proclaim that they are not gone. They are not here as they once were but they have not disappeared. They have passed away but they are not lost. They have breathed their last but we will meet them again. Today is a chance to see and know that Steinbeck, in The Grapes of Wrath, pointed to the truth when he wrote that great Tom Joad speech. This is the speech where Tom, rather than say goodbye to his mother tells her to keep watch for him: I’ll be around in the dark – I’ll be everywhere. Wherever you can look – I’ll be there. I’ll be in the way kids laugh when they’re hungry and they know supper’s ready, and when the people are eatin’ the stuff they raise and livin’ in the houses they build – I’ll be there, too. We’re doing more than remembering today, you see. We’re acknowledging that they’re still here if in a different way. That’s more than legacy, what we’re talking about this morning. Of course, legacy is important and meaningful. Every time I cross the Harris Hines Bridge, I think about his legacy etched across this state. There’s a mark left on this place by AD Little that will last forever, just as every name of this list that we’ll read has left a legacy that will be felt for years to come, but we’re not just remembering today. We’ll name them all, and with their names spoken we acknowledge that they are not here where we can see them but neither are they gone. On days like today we remember that the great cloud of witnesses draws near and we are in the company of the faithful. That’s what inspires the cover on your bulletin. Those aren’t aliens landing. They’re saints drawing near. Last week I read a story about a young English clergyman who served a small congregation. It was his custom at evening services to administer the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper to any parishioners who remained at the conclusion of the service. One night so few stayed that he questioned whether the sacrament should be observed, but he did. In the midst of the liturgy, he read part of the Great Prayer of Thanksgiving, a prayer that we will pray this morning too, though ours is a different version: “Therefore, with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, we laud and magnify thy glorious name.” He paused and read that line again, “With angels and archangels and all the company of heaven…” Then he prayed, “God forgive me. I did not realize I was in such company.” Most of the time we don’t. We forget who is with us, and we ignore what they call us to do. It’s so easy to ignore or to look beyond, not just the Saints who draw near to us, but the entire company of the faithful. Today I think of Helen Jones, who died just last Saturday. She should be here with her cute red car, parked illegally right outside our doors. It’s because of her that we’re now looking into valet parking. If you think that would be good for us to have, there’s a survey to take on the church website. This effort really did start because of her. When we told her she couldn’t park her car in front of the bike rack, she said, “Fine!” and handing her keys to the nearest Deacon, “If I can’t park here, you do it!” We’d now like to maybe formalize that process a little bit. Helen Jones was something. If we could hear her speak today I wonder what she would have us do. If today we remember how the Saints draw close, that we are in the company of the faithful, what do they want us to know? Do you remember that moment from the Thorton Wilder play, Our Town? When Emily, who so recently died, is in her home as a spirit. Having drawn close to her family she wishes they would “really look at one another.” It all goes so fast [she says]. We don’t have time to look at one another. I didn’t realize. So, all that was going on and we never noticed… Wait! One more look. Good-bye, good-bye world. Good-bye, Grover’s Corners… Mama and Papa. Good-bye clock’s ticking… and Mama’s sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new ironed dresses and hot baths… and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you are too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it… every, every minute? In the company of the faithful I realize that we spend too much time worrying and fail to enjoy. We spend too much time working and forget to love. We spend too much time thinking that we’ll have tomorrow but then tomorrow doesn’t always come. A close friend of mine was in a car accident last week. It was bad, but he walked away without a scratch, as did everyone else involved, but this friend who was recently named the President of the Fort Worth, Texas Chamber of Commerce took his time getting to his office the Friday after this accident. We often talk, but usually about what meetings he’s going to or what meetings I’m going to. Lately there have been many meetings regarding the Fort Worth police officer who shot an unarmed African American woman in her home. Yet, on that Friday after this accident I was telling him how cold it was. Maybe it was 32 degrees, only in response I heard my friend say, “It’s 14. 14.” “No, it’s cold, but not that cold, and what do you know about the weather in Georgia when you’re in Texas,” I responded. He said, “Sorry Joe. I wasn’t talking to you. My son just asked me what two times 7 is, and after this car accident I’m all about that. That’s what I want to be doing. Stopping everything to tell my son that two times seven is 14.” Isn’t that what they’d be telling us all to do today? Isn’t that what they all would want us to do? To enjoy the smell of coffee, and new ironed dresses, and hot baths? To stop to answer multiplication questions? To rejoice in these moments that we have, trusting that they who have gained their crown do not need our tears, but only wish us happiness? Today I wish that we had figured out how to valet cars a little sooner. We’ve been focused on many things, but how important it is to really see each other the way one police officer in Fort Worth failed to. Today, remember that we still have the chance to see each other a little more clearly. Encouraged by the Saints around us this day, we might spend a little more time doing, not what is urgent, but what matters. Not what seems important, but what Christ and all the company of the faithful would have us do. Amen.