Messages, Meditations, and Musings on the Life of Faith by Rev. Dr. Scott E. Olson, Interim Pastor, Christ Lutheran Church, Preston, MN

Sunday, November 3, 2019

"For All the Saints" - Sermon for All Saints Sunday

For All the Saints
All Saints Sunday
November 3, 2019
Grace, Waseca, MN
Luke 6.20-31

On All Saints Sunday, I can’t help thinking about those in my family who have passed away. Certainly, my mom and dad, who died too early and didn’t see their granddaughters grow up into the fine young women they are. There are my Grandma and Grandpa Olson, who died before I was born and whom I never knew. There are various aunts, uncles, and cousins many of whom also died too young. Then there is my Grandma Johnson, who died when I was sixteen. And in a moment of borderline heresy, I think of our first dog, Chipper, who was hit by a care when I was just a few years old and other pets who we dearly loved.

But it’s my Grandpa Johnson I’m really thinking about today, whom I didn’t know as well as I would have liked. That’s because Grandpa Johnson lived in Spokane and we lived in the Cities, a long way for a visit. But when he did come to visit, we’d put out a dish with jellybeans and a rubber band because he liked to shoot them at us. Though it was a bit uncomfortable at the time, we did devotions every night.

When I was much older, I learned why Grandpa Johnson and most of my aunts, uncles and cousins lived in the Spokane area. Grandpa Johnson’s father had walked away from the family when he was 10, the oldest of four, and so Grandpa Johnson became very self-reliant. Before WWII he had a milk can re-tinning business in Rice Lake, WI that he turned into a truck body plant. (If you see a Schwan’s Truck, look for a little plate to the right of the driver’s door. It will say “Johnson Truck Body.” That was my Grandpa’s company.)

I say “was” because he was so busy, Grandpa Johnson brought in his brothers into the business to help. Long story short, they eventually forced him out of the business he started. Rather than fighting them, Grandpa Johnson took Grandma, most of my mom’s sisters and brothers, and headed west. The story goes that Grandpa Johnson would have gone all the way to the Pacific Ocean, but grandma stopped him at Spokane and said, “This is far enough.”

Now, Grandpa Johnson had built boats as a hobby in Rice Lake and so he started Herb Craft, among the first to use fiberglass in boats. Grandpa Johnson was quite the inventor, the first to design the V-shaped snowplow, but never cared to patent anything. He was a stocky man with a barrel chest and thighs like tree trunks, but he was one of the gentlest men I’ve known.

I also think about Grandpa Johnson because he “turned the other cheek” in a way I’d find hard to emulate. In our Gospel reading today, Jesus asks us to live up to an almost impossible standard: love our enemies, do good to those who hate us, bless those who curse us, and pray for our abusers. Clearly Jesus has never spent time on Facebook or Twitter. Or perhaps maybe he has… He also wants us to consider that those things we consider blessings aren’t always blessings and vice versa. Now, we must take great care not to pull these verses out of context and encourage victimization. But we must also not dismiss Jesus’ call to find life in the places that our society and culture don’t.

Now, I know that Grandpa Johnson wasn’t perfect because none of us are. I also know that because of his humble nature he would protest being idolized, rightfully so, because that’s not the point of the story. I think Grandpa Johnson would have said that he was an ordinary person with an extraordinary God, someone who tried to live his life as Jesus invites us to live, not to bring in the kingdom but to get a glimpse of it in our lives. Grandpa Johnson is a saint because he was set aside by God in his baptism and because he is gathered in heaven with all those I have mentioned and more. But he is also a saint because he tried to let the light of Christ shine through the cracks in his life.

Jesus calls us to a new way of being in the world, not measured by what we have or what we are as much as it is how we respond to God’s love, grace and mercy, especially when we don’t deserve it. As you come forward to light a candle for your loved ones, I hope you’ll remember your Grandpa Johnsons whose lives inspire you, but I hope you’ll also remember those who were a bit more “cracked” as well. Maybe, just maybe, there will be someone who will remember you, saints of God, who through your baptisms have been set aside by God to be bearers of Christ’s light. Amen.

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