For All the Saints - Sermon for All Saints Sunday Year C

For All the Saints

All Saints Sunday C

November 6, 2022

Christ, Preston, MN

Luke 6.20-31

This All Saints Sunday is particularly poignant because I have three aunts who have died in six months and a fourth who is actively dying. Two weeks ago, it was my godmother Elaine whose service I attended in Rice Lake, WI, and yesterday, Aunt Jen, who died a few months ago but whose service was live streamed from Spokane, WA. My aunt Marge’s service several months ago was also live streamed from Spokane. It is their sister, my Aunt Dot, who is expected to die soon. When she goes, she’ll be the last of my mother’s eight siblings to go. My own mother died many years ago.

They all in their own way influenced me, but mostly as they showed me more about Grandpa Johnson, who was responsible for them living so far away. My grandpa Johnson owned and operated a milk can re-tinning business in Rice Lake, WI. When World War II started, he transformed it into a truck body business, which continued after the war. (Those Schwan's trucks you see all over the place were made by my grandpa’s business, Johnson Truck Body, still in existence though long under other management.) 

Business was so good that he brought his two brothers into the business, but it didn’t work out. They were forcing him out of the business and, as a strong Christian he literally turned the other cheek. He and grandma packed up six of their eight children and headed west to start a new life. 

The family story that is told says he would have gone all the way to the Pacific Ocean but at Spokane, WA, grandma said, “No farther.” Grandpa had long built boats as a hobby, which he now turned into a business. In fact, he was one of the first boat builders to use fiberglass instead of wood.

Because we lived so far apart, I didn’t see much of Grandpa, and I know that he would be the first to say that he didn’t live up to my idolized vision of him. But his story and life continue to affect me deeply. In today’s Gospel, Luke’s version of Jesus’ kingdom vision seems to be a summary of what Grandpa Johnson embodied: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus’ extended message is called the Sermon on the Mount. Here, Luke’s shorter version is the Sermon on the Plain because Jesus is in a level place. However, both claim that the way of the world as it stands is contrary to the way God desires it to be.

Peculiar to Luke’s version is the addition of “woes” that are direct opposites of the “blessings” Jesus proclaims, commonly referred to as the Beatitudes. In speaking such, Jesus addresses real issues, that his disciples are truly poor and have difficult lives while there are rich people who take advantage of the poor within systems of oppression. He wants them to know that God knows their suffering and their suffering isn’t the last word. They are blessed, or fortunate, as I like to translate the blessing, because they are seen by God. When he pronounces woe on the privileged, he’s not advocating for socialism as much as he is saying, “Watch out!” lest you rely on your wealth as a guarantee of the true life he brings. When things are going well, we tend to think that we are responsible and trust in our own ability rather than God’s presence.

It’s natural for us to look at the Beatitudes, the attendant Woes, plus the rest of Jesus’ exhortations as something of a checklist. We like to see how we are doing and if we measure up to Jesus’ vision. It’s also tempting for us to dismiss them as pie-in-the-sky, wishful-thinking that comes in only when we get to heaven. It is true that the Sermon on the Plain confirms Jesus’ mission to the poor, outcast, and marginalized. It is also true that Jesus’ words shape our conduct. They are not less than that but they are also far much more.

Last week we celebrated the Reformation and Martin Luther’s tremendous insight that we are saved by grace through faith, not of our own doing, but as a free gift from God. One of his great gifts to us is the realization that we are all both saint and sinner at the same time. In other words, we are “mixed bags” as I like to say. Practically speaking, one thing that means is that God uses us, imperfect as we are, and transforms us in the process. We are holy, set aside for God’s purposes. For all of us, no matter who we are or done, it also means we have a future, even if that possibility seems unlikely.

In a few minutes, we’ll read the names of those who have died in the last year and remember what they’ve meant to us. We’ll also read the name of one who was baptized, to remind us that we already belong to God. And then we will come forward to light our own candles of remembrance for those we hold dear. We’ll do so knowing that God’s countercultural vision for life here is the true one because it was confirmed through the greatest reversal of all, the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, who died and rose so that we would have new life. Then, we’ll come forward again for Holy Communion, surrounded by blazing candles, basking in the mystery that those and all people of every time and place, past, present and future, will be gathered with us, strengthening our lives. Thanks be to God. Amen.

My sermons often preach a little differently than written and you can find the video here.