Homily preached by The Rev'd Nicholas Lang

St. Paul’s on the Green, Norwalk, Connecticut

All Saints Evensong - November 4, 2007

If you read the brief welcome blurb on the front of the announcement sheet—a message that, by the way, is freshly written every week by a member of our staff—you noticed the reference to the glorious festival of All Saints which we are celebrating today. That reflection goes on to suggest that the communion of saints is a metaphor for how we live together in the community we call the church, an assortment of people from all walks of life who surround each other, support one another, and share the best and worst of times as we walk side by side on this interesting, sometimes exciting, sometimes scary, often mysterious journey of life.

I see the theme of the festival of All Saints as an extension of the teaching that Jesus offers us in the reading from Luke: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing.” Herein is also the promise that God will care for us in even our most basic needs just as God cares for the seemingly insignificant creatures of birds and plant life. The beauty of this metaphor, the Communion of Saints, is that it offers us the truth that none of us is meant to live in isolation. We are all a part of that great cloud of witnesses—the amazing communion of saints—that nurtures and restores us.

“Sainthood” is a gift of pure grace. It has nothing to do with merit or entitlement. It’s on the house. It’s freely given out of God’s enormous love for us in spite of our failures or how unaware we are that we have been so blessed. Preacher and author Barbara Brown Taylor says that “Once you have linked up with Christ’s body (that would be a bunch of characters like us), you have everything you need to be a saint. You have your identity, your halo, and a choice: to live as who you are or not.”

She says it is like knowing there is a check for a million dollars in the next room with your name on it. The money is yours, but until you claim it and cash it you are as poor as if it never existed. “Our vocation, our calling from that point on,” she says “is to act like saints and exercise our sainthood, practice it, so that we do not lose our God-given capacity to be saints.”

But it takes a village to form a saint—a community of caring, loving, supportive people who know the struggle and are living out their baptismal promises as best they can, striving, in their blessedness, to be a blessing to others. Every time we gather in this sacred place, we become the icon of that village.

In The Rhythm of God , Geddes MacGregor tells the story of a priest who was asked, “How many people were at the Eucharist on Wednesday morning?” He replied, “There were three old ladies, the sexton, several thousand archangels, and several million of the saints of God.” You and I, you see, are part of something larger that encompasses us and keeps us from standing alone, gives our ordinary lives extraordinary meaning, and empowers us to be a blessing for others.

What an image, what a vibrant picture to carry in your mind and heart. You and me—all of us together—surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses—both those who have gone before us and have left this place washed by their prayers and those of us who continue to break the bread, share the cup, tell the story, pass on the faith to those who will follow us. We need that village, that community to walk along with us, to help us stand up and stand out. That is probably one of the main reasons we are gather here.

Life isn’t easy nor is the process of growing into sainthood—and that is reflected in this prayer we could all make a part of our daily rule of life: “So far today, God, I’ve done all right. I have not gossiped. I have not lost my temper. I have not failed to show compassion. I have not been nasty or selfish and I’m really glad of that. But in a few minutes, God, I’m going to get out of bed; and, from then on, I’m going to need a lot of help.” Amen.

We are saints-in-the-making and for that we celebrate this great festival today. I leave you with this little story that illustrates just how that might happen: In the Baemba tribe of South Africa, when a person acts irresponsibly or unjustly, he or she is place in the center of the village, alone and unfettered. All work ceases, and every man, woman, and child in the village gathers in a large circle around the individual. Then each person in the tribe speaks to the accused, one at a time, about all the good things the person …has done in his lifetime. All her positive attributes, good deeds, strengths, and kindnesses are recited carefully and at length. The tribal ceremony often lasts several days. At the end, the tribal circle is broken, a joyous celebration takes place, and the person is symbolically and literally welcomed back into the tribe.

Once you have linked up with Christ’s body (that would be a bunch of characters like us), you have everything you need to be a saint. You have your identity, your halo, and a choice: to live as who you are or not.”