Reflections for the Festival of All Saints
It was an unexpected word. It was Ash Wednesday at the Chapel of the Resurrection at Valparaiso University. We had just concluded the second of three worship services for the day when Dr. George Heider, Chair of the Theology Department said to me, “that was the most succinct sermon I think I have ever heard.”
Puzzled, I said, “sermon?” You see, the service that had just concluded was a 20 minute chapel service. There had been hymns and prayers, Scripture, the imposition of ashes at multiple stations and multiple stations at which people had received the Eucharist. But there had been no sermon.
To my question, George responded. “I’m sorry that I do not know the name of the young woman who gave me ashes, and I realize that what she said when she drew the ashes upon my forehead was technically a mistake, but it was a sermon. Succinct. Law/Gospel. Powerful.”
“And, what did she say?” I asked.
“Remember that you are dust, and from dust you shall return. From dust. Not to dust. Just one little word. I came here today expecting to be reminded of my mortality, and I was. But I was also reminded that these old bones, this flesh and blood have put on immortality, and I will rise again.”
A sermon, indeed. Remember that you are dust. Law. And from dust you shall return. Gospel. Remember that you are dust. Death. And from dust you shall return. Life. It was Ash Wednesday, Easter, and All Saints, all rolled into one. It was an unexpected word.
I would imagine that Mary and Martha might have something to say about unexpected words in the face of a stark reminder of mortality. When Jesus finally shows up at the grave of their dear brother, Lazarus, what Jesus says is not what they expect, and what they expect is not what Jesus says.
Words of comfort - that would have been expected. Words of sorrow - certainly. Perhaps even an apology for being late would have been in order, but instead Jesus - the Word made flesh becomes Word once again. With breath given voice, he pierces the thin veil that hangs between life and death. Lazarus, come out, he calls. An unexpected word, and Lazarus who was bound for dust, returns.
In just the chapter before in John’s telling of the Gospel story, Jesus says he is the Good Shepherd who knows his sheep by name. Whose sheep know his voice. Who calls his sheep, and they go in and out and find pasture. This Jesus - this Word made flesh - this embodied God - breathes forth the breath of life, speaks an unexpected word at the tomb of his friend, and Lazarus is brought back from the dead.
It is a powerful act of resistance. It is an audacious act of speaking truth to power. It is the final sign in John’s Gospel, and for it, for this unexpected word, Jesus will die.
But you will live.
Because Jesus walks through the valley of the shadow of death, you will fear no evil.
Because Jesus is buried, you will rise.
Because Jesus is bound for dust, from dust you shall return.
On this Festival of All Saints, it can be tempting to turn our reflections and our thoughts completely to that final great and glorious day when the trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised, and we shall all be joined together in the host arrayed in white, singing praise and honor and glory forever and ever.
That is good and right to do, but it is also good and right to remember that baptized into the death and resurrection of Christ, it is already so. We have already been raised from the dead. Jesus does not say, I will be the resurrection and the life. Jesus says I am the resurrection and the life. Now. Here. Present. For the life of the world - now.
Baptized into Christ, you have been buried and raised again - already returned from death, so that even as we proclaim the day is surely coming when from dust we shall return, we live in the resurrection now.
Because of this, it is our great privilege and our call to practice resurrection - now. It is our great privilege and call to speak truth to power - now. It is our privilege and our call to resist sin, death, and the forces of evil - now. It is our privilege and our call to speak God’s resurrection Truth into being in our everyday lives, to practice resurrection in our waking and in our sleeping, to speak God’s unexpected, resurrecting Word into any and every tomb of death, calling forth individual people and the whole creation from death to life.
And so I ask you, where are you - the saints on earth - called to do this, today? To whom are you - the saints on earth - called to be the presence of resurrection, today? How will you - the saints on earth - practice resurrection, today, tomorrow, and everyday until the trumpet does sound, and from dust we do return?
And while we both practice resurrection and wait for the resurrection, what of our blessed dead? What do we utter at the graves of our loved ones who rest from their labors, whose baptismal covenant has been fulfilled? Through sighs and shouts, sorrows and songs, we utter our own unexpected word - Alleluia! Alleluia!
For remember that we are dust, and from dust we shall return.
Ash Wednesday, Easter, and All Saints -- All rolled into one.
AMEN
It was an unexpected word. It was Ash Wednesday at the Chapel of the Resurrection at Valparaiso University. We had just concluded the second of three worship services for the day when Dr. George Heider, Chair of the Theology Department said to me, “that was the most succinct sermon I think I have ever heard.”
Puzzled, I said, “sermon?” You see, the service that had just concluded was a 20 minute chapel service. There had been hymns and prayers, Scripture, the imposition of ashes at multiple stations and multiple stations at which people had received the Eucharist. But there had been no sermon.
To my question, George responded. “I’m sorry that I do not know the name of the young woman who gave me ashes, and I realize that what she said when she drew the ashes upon my forehead was technically a mistake, but it was a sermon. Succinct. Law/Gospel. Powerful.”
“And, what did she say?” I asked.
“Remember that you are dust, and from dust you shall return. From dust. Not to dust. Just one little word. I came here today expecting to be reminded of my mortality, and I was. But I was also reminded that these old bones, this flesh and blood have put on immortality, and I will rise again.”
A sermon, indeed. Remember that you are dust. Law. And from dust you shall return. Gospel. Remember that you are dust. Death. And from dust you shall return. Life. It was Ash Wednesday, Easter, and All Saints, all rolled into one. It was an unexpected word.
I would imagine that Mary and Martha might have something to say about unexpected words in the face of a stark reminder of mortality. When Jesus finally shows up at the grave of their dear brother, Lazarus, what Jesus says is not what they expect, and what they expect is not what Jesus says.
Words of comfort - that would have been expected. Words of sorrow - certainly. Perhaps even an apology for being late would have been in order, but instead Jesus - the Word made flesh becomes Word once again. With breath given voice, he pierces the thin veil that hangs between life and death. Lazarus, come out, he calls. An unexpected word, and Lazarus who was bound for dust, returns.
In just the chapter before in John’s telling of the Gospel story, Jesus says he is the Good Shepherd who knows his sheep by name. Whose sheep know his voice. Who calls his sheep, and they go in and out and find pasture. This Jesus - this Word made flesh - this embodied God - breathes forth the breath of life, speaks an unexpected word at the tomb of his friend, and Lazarus is brought back from the dead.
It is a powerful act of resistance. It is an audacious act of speaking truth to power. It is the final sign in John’s Gospel, and for it, for this unexpected word, Jesus will die.
But you will live.
Because Jesus walks through the valley of the shadow of death, you will fear no evil.
Because Jesus is buried, you will rise.
Because Jesus is bound for dust, from dust you shall return.
On this Festival of All Saints, it can be tempting to turn our reflections and our thoughts completely to that final great and glorious day when the trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised, and we shall all be joined together in the host arrayed in white, singing praise and honor and glory forever and ever.
That is good and right to do, but it is also good and right to remember that baptized into the death and resurrection of Christ, it is already so. We have already been raised from the dead. Jesus does not say, I will be the resurrection and the life. Jesus says I am the resurrection and the life. Now. Here. Present. For the life of the world - now.
Baptized into Christ, you have been buried and raised again - already returned from death, so that even as we proclaim the day is surely coming when from dust we shall return, we live in the resurrection now.
Because of this, it is our great privilege and our call to practice resurrection - now. It is our great privilege and call to speak truth to power - now. It is our privilege and our call to resist sin, death, and the forces of evil - now. It is our privilege and our call to speak God’s resurrection Truth into being in our everyday lives, to practice resurrection in our waking and in our sleeping, to speak God’s unexpected, resurrecting Word into any and every tomb of death, calling forth individual people and the whole creation from death to life.
And so I ask you, where are you - the saints on earth - called to do this, today? To whom are you - the saints on earth - called to be the presence of resurrection, today? How will you - the saints on earth - practice resurrection, today, tomorrow, and everyday until the trumpet does sound, and from dust we do return?
And while we both practice resurrection and wait for the resurrection, what of our blessed dead? What do we utter at the graves of our loved ones who rest from their labors, whose baptismal covenant has been fulfilled? Through sighs and shouts, sorrows and songs, we utter our own unexpected word - Alleluia! Alleluia!
For remember that we are dust, and from dust we shall return.
Ash Wednesday, Easter, and All Saints -- All rolled into one.
AMEN
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