The First United Methodist Church of Napa, CA

November 6, 2005

All Saints Sunday

Scripture Readings:

 

Epistle – 1 John 3: 1-3[1]

 

1See what love the [Creator] has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are.  The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know [God].  2Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed.  What we do know is this:  when [God] is revealed, we will be like [God], for we will see [God] as [God] is.  3And all who have this hope in [God] purify themselves, just as [God] is pure.

 

Gospel – Matthew 5: 1-12[2]

 

1When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him.  2Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:

3“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

4“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

5“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

6“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

7“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

8“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

9“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

10“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

11“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.  12Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

 

 “We Are Given a Lifetime."

 

          We're moving toward the end of one church year and the beginning of another – toward Advent, the season in which we anticipate both that first coming in a place called Bethlehem, and a "second coming" that I like to envision comes when we place Jesus, as the Christ, at the center of our lives.  In this movement toward the holy we are invited into moments of great blessing.  We have been given a lifetime in which to learn just how blessed we truly are.

          As many of you know, in some texts the translation "blessed" is rendered as "happy."  In the context of the Ancient Near East such a feeling is intimately connected with wisdom – knowing how to "live well" the life that each of us has been given.  After all that is the way to discover true happiness.  So I could just as well have chosen these words from the Book of Proverbs where wisdom (hoķma in Hebrew), because it's a feminine noun, appears as a woman:

 

13 Happy are those who find wisdom,

and those who get understanding,

14 for her income is better than silver,

and her revenue better than gold.

15 She is more precious than jewels,

and nothing you desire can compare with her.

16 Long life is in her right hand;

in her left hand are riches and honor.

17 Her ways are ways of pleasantness,

and all her paths are peace.

18 She is a tree of life to those who lay hold of her;

those who hold her fast are called happy.[3]

 

We are given the blessings of a lifetime in which to discover the truth of this.

          In my sermon last month on love[4] I quoted from a portion of T.S. Eliot's poem, "The Rock," to illustrate the importance of community.  For Eliot the church wasn't just a building, or even any single congregation, but a communion of saints past, present and future, actively involved with each other in the work of making God known.  His anachronistic non-inclusive language aside, listen to a bit more from the second chorus of that poem as Eliot writes of how important it is that we not only preserve the good of our past, against its decay and neglect, but that we also build on the good that we've all inherited:

 

And of all that was done that was good, you have the inheritance

For good and ill deeds belong to a man alone,

when he stands alone on the other side of death,

But here upon earth you have the reward of the good and ill that was done

by those who have gone before you.

And all that is ill you may repair if you walk together in humble repentance, expiating the sins of your fathers;

And all that was good you must fight to keep

with hearts as devoted as those of your fathers who fought to gain it.

The Church must be forever building,

for it is forever decaying within and attacked from without:

What life have you if you have not life together?

There is no life that is not in community

And no community not lived in praise of God.[5]

 

          Have you noticed in the Beatitudes just how much  our feelings lie behind each blessing?  "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."  To "rejoice and be glad" is to know how to show mercy to those who need it, to know how to be a peacemaker when others cry out for revenge.  In a strange reversal here, grief and loss, suffering and pain, become occasions of profound blessing and moments of unbelievable joy!  At least this seems strange to us in our culture because we've always been taught to deny our most deeply felt emotions.  Strong feelings of any kind, whether they're feelings of anger or sadness, joy or deeply religious awe, cause most of us Anglo Europeans to be so uncomfortable that we turn away from anybody who hasn't got the good manners to at least suppress such feelings and keep them to themselves!

          We've become so accomplished at hiding our emotions that often we forget that we even have them.  To be cut off from those depths of our heart, though, is to come to lead a very flat, if not empty, life.  One of the consequences of this kind of denial and emotional repression is an epidemic of depression.  "I'll be all right," we stoically say.  "I'll make it."  And yet so many of us don't sleep well, while we feel as if we'd like to sleep all the time.  Many more of us have long stretches when we feel so low on energy that life seems to give us very little at all that we can savor.  Others of us feel weighed down but we don't know why.  Oddly enough, when we learn how to block out our intense anger or our profound sadness, all too often we also block any true joy or comfort that we might otherwise be able to receive.  They all inhabit the same country.  Walling ourselves off from the deepest longings of our hearts, that wall also becomes a self-imposed barrier between us and God, because it's in the midst of our deepest feelings that God will show up in our lives.

          There is no way to stay well or get well without mourning our losses; and there's no way to mourn one loss without mourning them all.  But we'd have to stop pretending that we're all right, that we don't hurt, or that we have everything that we need.  To admit a deep hurt that we've plastered over a long time ago – because we believed then that there was no way to heal it – does take courage, but it's the kind of courage that can lead us back into living the life that we were meant to live.[6]  What's more, if we have found the strength to mourn our losses, we'll also come to discover that we've been given the compassion to embrace with tenderness and care the losses and the sufferings of others.

          A colleague and friend of mine whose mother is from Mexico, but of Hispanic heritage (i.e., a descendant of the Spanish aristocracy), would not admit to anyone that his father wasn't even Mexican; he was an Indian, and los Indios of Mexico (as in our own country) have always been thought of as a lower class of people.  What's worse, this fact made my friend un mestizo, a person of mixed race.  When he was a child his family traveled easily between those separate cultures within Mexico, and indeed across the river into this country; so he didn't understand that there was any difference between them.  As he grew up, however, and his darker skin and shorter stature marked him, the prejudices across both borders made him assert his Mexican-American heritage to the point of denying his true heritage as un mestizo.  After entering seminary he began to accept who he really was and to begin to recover a sense of himself, but only after his father's death did he come to know himself as his father's child, and to recognize the good that he had inherited from the native peoples of Central America.

          We are given a lifetime to live, but like my colleague and friend, we need to know whose children we are, and what that heritage promises for our future.  Today let's reclaim that, among all of God's creatures, we are truly blessed.

 

* * *

 



[1] This passage from the 1st Letter of John comes like a burst of light.  The writer invites us to remember that by realizing ourselves as being, as it were, God's offspring should make a difference in how we live out our lives.  It makes us a people set apart – i.e., our lives should give evidence of our commitment to Jesus, as the Christ, and that fact should be apparent to anybody who knows us.  In a very real sense, then, we're to be seen as brothers and sisters of Jesus himself.

[2] Matthew's version of the so-called "Beatitudes" is often referred to as a basic rule of life for Christians, but most of us dismiss them as impossible, if not impractical, ideals.  It's worth noting, then, that the Jewish community out of which these sayings come, had Jewish converts in mind – e.g., they presented Jesus as the new Moses.  So Jesus climbs up a mountain, like Moses hiking up Mt. Sinai, but to proclaim a new Torah (vs. Luke where these sayings occur "on a level place" – cf. Luke 6: 17-26).

   Some translations use the word "happy" instead of "blessed;" the meanings overlap, really, since in Jewish thought happiness was simply a direct effect of receiving God's blessing or benediction.

[3] Proverbs 3: 13-18.

[4] October 23rd, "What's Love Got to Do with It?"

[5] T.S. Eliot, Collected Poems, 1909-1962 (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1963).

[6] Psychoanalyst Alice Miller believes that mourning is the beginning of all healing.  Acknowledging and suffering our deepest sorrows and losses – which always includes the sorrows of our childhood – Miller believes, can lead to the release from our inner prison.  When we do rediscover our deep disappointments and buried pain, we also can discover our need for God and our capacity for joy and love.  The ways in which we express our hurt, anger, disappointment and sorrow will always threaten our partners in life and, depending upon their maturity, will always distance us from them.  But if we create a tolerance for these deep and disturbing realities in ourselves (through therapy or prayer or both), we will find somebody who will not be frightened away, who will have compassion in the face of our sorrow and anger, until they turn into joy and vitality.  We're so used to the negative reactions when we show our truest selves, Miller notes though, that it doesn't seem to occur to us that God might react differently.  At the very moment when most people back off, God is closest to us, and offers us healing and love (Prisoners of Childhood and The Drama of the Gifted Child [New York: Basic Books, 1981]).