The Souls of the Righteous are In the Hand of God

Below is the sermon which my wife, The Rev. Kristin Sullivan, gave on All Saints' Sunday.  I was blessed to get to hear her words which brought tears to my eyes.

The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment will ever touch them.  In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to have died, and their departure was thought to be a disaster, and their going from us to be their destruction; but they are at peace.  For though in the sight of others they were punished, their hope is full of immortality. 

This is the beginning of the reading that we heard from the Wisdom of Solomon.  It is one of the reading that is recommended in our funeral service in the Episcopal church.  It speaks to the life with God that we will live after our earthly life has ended.  A life that is free from torment—a hope that is full of immortality. 

It is a wonderful reminder that in the midst of death there is always hope.  For the Jewish people death was thought to be an end.  A person simply ceased to exist, or else they existed in a sort of limbo, separated from people and from God.  But here in the beginning of the first century the idea began to be expressed that life did not end with death.  God holds us close even after we die.

The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God.  It is God who holds them.  Even though their life seems to have ended, they are protected.  They are at peace.  In Christian thought we have taken this even further.

In Jesus encounter with Martha after the death of Lazarus told her I am the resurrection and I am the life—those who believe in me will not die but live.  We are destined for life.  A life that is lived here on this earth and also a life that will be lived with God after we have died.  Our lives are a constant journey towards God.  An ever deepening relationship that does not end in death, rather it continues.  We continue to grow with God—God continues to refine us and purify us.

My favorite image of our journey with God is that of a sea shell.  One of those conk type shells that has a point on the top and spirals down into itself.  Our spiritual life is not a point a to point b endeavor.  Rather it is more like the sea shell.  We are continually spiraling deeper and deeper into God.  Down, down , down. Deeper and deeper, more and more connected with him.  While we are here on earth and after we die.

Today in the life of the Church we celebrate All Saint’s Day.  A day of both remembrance and celebration.  It is a day when we remember those who have gone before us.  The Saints of God who have given their lives to his service.  Who have sacrificed and served and have gone to be in the closer presence with God. 

What we often forget is that All Saints day is about all the saints.  The ones that receive the accolades and the ones who largely go unremembered.  It is about the friends we have lost, the family members who are no longer here, the heroic and the ordinary.  It is about the imperfect everyday saints. Those folks who lived normal lives—who messed up, who asked forgiveness, who lived lives that look like ours.

The ones who died way to young, who didn’t get to live long lives, but who lived lives that touched others none the less.  Lives that changed us and changed the world around us.  I have an app on my phone called time hop that shows me each day pictures and other things that I posted in years past on a particular day.  When I looked at my time hop yesterday the first entry, from last year, was a picture of two names that I had written on the labyrinth outside during the all souls day remembrance last year.  They were both of friends that I lost when I was in seminary.  Two young men who died way too young.  But two friends who touched my life for the better.  Whose lives are intertwined with mine forever.  

They were great saints to me—They might not have been to you—but to me they changed the way I looked at the world because they were in it.  Who are those great saints for you?  Who has touched your life and left it forever changed.  A parent, a friend, perhaps even a complete stranger.  Each year the list gets longer.  Most of the folks whose names we will read today have not have touched the lives of millions of people, but their effect in the lives of those they have touched is like ripples in the water.  They have changed our lives and because they were in our lives we will changed the lives of other people.  People that we no longer see, but who are no less a part of our lives.

The Saints change our lives.  They give us an example of how to live a life striving towards God. A life that changes other lives.  They remind us that we are striving towards holiness.  Towards a life better lived in connection to God.

As many of you know Brad’s father died in May of this past year—he is one of the saints who has been added to our list this year.  At some point this summer as we were saying our bedtime prayers Noah, our oldest son prayed for his granddad.  His younger brother piped in that Granddad was dead—In the way that only a five year old can do.  But without missing a beat Noah sagely said—Granddad is still alive with God. 

And so he is.  We gather around this altar today to celebrate the fact that we are are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses who are very much alive with God.    

Today is a day to remind ourselves that those who have gone before us may have left us, but God will never leave them.  They gather with him—and gather with us—constantly moving in and out of our lives.  As our funeral liturgy reminds us “For to your faithful people, O Lord, life is changed, not ended.” 

This day we remember that all the saints are gathered around us.  During the Eucharistic prayer Sue will be reading the names of the saints that have been submitted this year to remind us that when we gather at this table we are all one with Christ. Those who have gone before us, those who have yet to be born and us—we who tarry here on this earthly plain.  Striving after God.  Working out our own salvation with fear and trembling.  Marveling at God’s creation and taking care of God’s people. 

May all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.  Amen.