Sermon for All Saints Day

St Francis of Assisi, Simon’s Town.
Sunday 1 November 2020

A pdf version for downloading and printing available here

When I was in my 20s, I was in the choir at St Margaret’s, Fish Hoek and one evensong Fr Tim Peacock preached.  He told us that if we wanted to explore Scripture we would have to ask ourselves four questions all starting with a WH.  WHO wrote the passage, WHY did they write it, WHAT did it mean to the first readers of the passage and finally, WHAT does it mean for us today?  I remembered this as I was thinking about this sermon because these four WH type of questions need to be asked as we look at SAINTS and in particular ALL SAINTS.  The order of the WH questions change but otherwise they are a good springboard for us this morning.  WHAT is a saint? WHO are saints?  WHY do we need saints? and WHAT do saints mean to me today?


Let’s begin by asking WHAT IS A SAINT?  I think in every All Saints sermon I’ve ever preached I’ve asked this question.  I think mainly because we so often have strange ideas about saints.  We say “Be a saint and carry this parcel for me” or at funerals “the deceased was an absolute saint as he cared for his wife who had dementia.”  We seem to imply that saints have to suffer to earn their title. 


In John Henry Newman’s poem, Dream of Gerontius which was set as an oratorio by Edward Elgar, has the Soul of Gerontius ascending to heaven and as he passes, the Demons call out him.  It is interesting that Elgar had the men of the choir singing the Demons part!  They call out “What’s a saint?  One whose breath doth the air taint”.  Now, that is something all of us know about, wearing our face-masks!  The demons carry on and say that saints are “Low-born clods of brute earth, they aspire to become gods.”  But think about it…isn’t that what all of us are striving to do, to become more like Jesus, who is God?   In our Gospel reading Jesus gives us the beatitudes.  Eleven verses of encouragement as we strive to become saints.  Mahatma Gandhi said of Christ’s Sermon on the Mount of which the beatitudes begin it, that it fills him “with bliss even today. Its sweet verses have even today the power to quench my agony of soul.”  Does it quench your Soul?  Or do you dismiss it, saying, “Not this passage again!”  


Wikipedia says A saint is a person who is recognized as having an exceptional degree of holiness or likeness or closeness to God.  So even Wikipedia agrees with those demons!  But it also says that the definition of a saint will vary depending on the Christian denomination you belong to.  All of the faithful departed in Heaven are considered to be saints, that is why we are having this Festival today, but some are considered worthy of greater honour or emulation.  Certainly, for Paul anyone who belongs to the Christian faith, living or departed, can be called a Saint.  He writes to the Roman Church: To all God’s beloved in Rome, who are called to be saints: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.


But what about us Anglicans, what does a saint mean to us?   For us the title of Saint refers to a person who has been elevated by popular opinion as a pious and holy person, a person worthy of imitating.


But then WHO IS A SAINT?  The saints are models of holiness to be imitated, and a ‘cloud of witnesses’ that strengthen and encourage us during our spiritual journey.  As Hebrews 12:1 says Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.” If you look at our Church Calendar you will find a lot of Saints who didn’t suffer in anyway, who didn’t go the extra mile to help others, who weren’t martyred.  In fact, died in their beds.  Many wrote poems or experienced oneness with God in their lives.  They will be part of what Bp William Walsham How calls in my favourite hymn, For all the Saints:  O Blest communion, fellowship divine or as Bp. Christopher Wordsworth describes them: Patriarch and holy prophet, who prepared the way of Christ, king, apostle, saint, confessor, martyr and evangelist, saintly maiden, godly matron, widows who have watched in prayer, joined in holy concert, singing to the Lord of all, are there. 


Are you there?  You who are the Saints of Simon’s Town beloved by God?  Boet Domisse wrote that little book entitled The Six Saints of Simon’s Town.  Agreed, he was referring to the six saints that the local churches are dedicated to, but I believe there is no reason why there should not be hundreds of saints of Simon’s Town.


But WHY COMMEMORATE SAINTS at all?  So many of them, we discover, were perhaps not as holy or pious as we originally thought.  Another All Saints hymn by James Montgomery says They were mortals too like us, O, when we like them must die, may our souls translated thus triumph, reign, and shine on high.”  During Lockdown I have watched streamed services from Portsmouth Cathedral.  I choose that Cathedral because my family originally came from there in the 19th Century, my son lives in the Portsmouth Diocese and the Dean, the Very Rev. Anthony Cane was educated at Bishops and UCT before returning to the UK, so I feel a strong connection.  In a sermon last month the Dean spoke about walking home from the Cathedral to the Deanery following two visitors to Portsmouth and as they entered the Grand Parade where there was a statue to Lord Horatio Nelson – appropriate for any town with a Royal Navy connection, he heard the one say to the other, “Oh! so it’s not Nelson Mandela then!”  The Dean went on to show how Lord Nelson in spite of being a hero and hero-worshipped by the English, was no saint, and I’m sure there are many things in Nelson Mandela’s life that are not really saintly.   The Dean indicated that he often, when going to meetings in Church House near the Houses of Parliament in London, had to cross Parliament Square.  “There,” he said, “is a statue to Nelson Mandela, and Churchill and Gandhi and Millicent Fawcett, the suffragette and Jan Christian Smuts.”  None of these would fit into that hymn which asks, “Who are these like stars appearing… these are they who have contended for their saviour’s honour long…” but there are their statues and we commemorate them just as we do for All Saints today.


So, WHAT DO SAINTS MEAN TO US TODAY?  Certainly, they are examples to follow, to imitate and because of their very humanity, we might find it less of a burden to follow their way of living.  Three years ago, Fr Richard asked me to help out by becoming your Priest-in-charge for six months.  I immediately said yes which I think surprised him a bit because he told me to go home and speak it over with Karen.  I said, “No, I want to be able to help in this parish.”  Though I must admit I didn’t think it would be for three whole years!  But I have really enjoyed being you Priest-in-Charge.  I am sure many of you could see my faults and my failings.  My failure to be as pastorally-caring as Fr Rodney obviously is, my sermons being too academic and long, my over indulgence with traditional hymns and choir music.  “I am no saint,” as the old saying goes and one starts to expect a “but…”  There is no but from me!  


There is a delightful book I owned, but with downsizing it has disappeared from my bookshelf so I can’t remember the title or the author.  It tells of a man called George who felt that his life was empty and worthless and he needed to do something to make it all worthwhile.  He decided that he would like to go a quest.  His wife thought he had lost his mind but one day while he was preparing to go on his quest, a dragon suddenly appeared and asked in a very bored voice what he was doing. “Going on a quest”, said George. “To do what?” asked the dragon, “I don’t know,” said George, “perhaps to find Truth or the Holy Grail.”  The Dragon then asked him, “What’s your name?”  “George” said George.  “What! Plain George? Not St George?” “I’m not holy enough to be saint!” said George. “No, not Saint George but S-E-N-T, Sent George because you have been sent on a quest.”  That was just the opening part of the first chapter of the book, but I think the message for us is clear.  Yes, we are all SAINTS because we are SENT, sent by God to make a difference in people’s lives.  I was sent to be your priest-in-charge for three years.  You are sent to do what God is calling you to do.


Around St Francis Day I found a quote from Francis, as his life was drawing to an end, just as my ministry among you has now drawn to an end.  St Francis said: “I have done what is mine to do.  May Christ teach you what is yours.”  That is quite a challenge to you all.  What is your task to do?  I found that quote on twitter from a priest who is a tertiary of the Franciscan Order.  He added to some words of his own to his tweet and I want to address them to you, as I end my sermon today.  “May you know the freedom of what it means to be you, and know that God rejoices in you as you are. You are beautiful!”  Amen.


Oh yes, you all know me and my famous saying “Google is your friend!”.  I googled and found that the book is called St George and the Dragon and the quest for the Holy Grail by Edward Hays.

Baptism

While searching for the BOWLES family of Woodford, Wiltshire, I found a few of the children of William and Dinah BOWLES whose entry into the Baptism Register of the local parish read the same as this entry for Lucy BOWLES.  I am just giving hers as an example:
Lucy daughter of William BOWLES Esq., and Dinah his wife was privatily baptized Oct. 8th and publickly baptized Dec. 20th  born Oct 8th 1782.

Now, this is not a blog-post to argue for or against infant baptism.  Infant baptism is the norm in Anglicanism, in this case the Church of England.  In those days (1780s) so often children died before reaching adulthood and confirmation or what we might call today ‘believers’ baptism’, that parents would have their children baptised as soon as possible.  Private Baptism does occurs when a child is sickly and could die before the parents could bring the child to baptism in the church.  Lucy was at least the third child to be baptised privately on her day of birth and a couple of months later ‘Publickly’.  I wonder why?

I have thought of a few reasons. 

  1. The entry in the baptism register does not show a hand of a hugely educated person. Lucy’s entry is one of the neater ones.  Was the local vicar a poorly educated cleric who did not have enough theology to know that one cannot be baptised twice?
  2. The BOWLES family lived in the local ‘big house’, Heale House.  Was the ‘living’ owned by William BOWLES and so the poor cleric did whatever he was asked to do by William?  Was William the squire and so able to throw his weight around. 
  3. Did the cleric just misuse the term ‘publikly baptised’ to mean ‘welcomed into the church’?
  4. Perhaps this was a common feature – a two-fold baptism months apart – at that time?
  5. Was William BOWLES away? He was a Royal Navy officer and might have been ‘at sea’ with an unknown return date so Dinah BOWLES went ahead and had a baptism on the day of birth and then a public baptism (if the child survived) when the child’s father had returned.

So many possible.  Which reason do you like?  Do you have any further suggestions?  Add a comment or email me via “Contact”

The Wedding Banquet: Matthew 22:1-14

Last Sunday’s gospel has the Parable of the King giving a Wedding Banquet and when the invited guest decline to attend he destroy them and their city and then invites all and sundry but the unfortunate one without a wedding garb is thrown out.  I heard at least three sermons on this Gospel from Deans, Canon Chancellors and Precentors from large Cathedrals in the UK that I’ve been watching on a Sunday during this pandemic.  They all presented different o=points and meanings to this parable, which fitted in to their own context and situation.  However, my mind kept on going back to my mother and how she felt it was unfair on the poor man, fetched from the byways and hedges rows but gets throw out.

Paul J. Nuechterlein, the pastor from Prince of Peace Lutheran Church, in Portage, Minnesota, who runs a website for discussion on the Girardian mimetic theory of interpreting the Scriptures, presented a view I had never thought of before and I’m sure would have pleased my late mother.1

Paul started with an old story of the pastor who was giving a children’s sermon.  Each week the children anticipate him making a new point about Jesus. This particular week he began by holding up a stuffed squirrel and asking, “Boys and girls, do you know what this is?” There was silence from the children. So, he asked again. Silence. Finally, one little boy is bold enough to shyly raise his hand and suggested, “Gee, I know I’m supposed to say Jesus, but it sure looks like a squirrel to me.”

Paul thinks that something like that is happening to us in our hearing of the parable from Jesus in last week’s Gospel reading.   In his parables, Jesus tends to use kings or lords as symbols for God.  So as soon as he begins, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king…,” our immediately thought is. “This king as God.” But Jesus goes on with parable and describes hideous behaviour on the part of this king.  Some folks don’t come when he throws a wedding banquet for his son, so he blows them all away – literally. He sends soldiers who kill them all and destroy their city to boot.   When the rest of the citizens left in his kingdom hear what this king had done to people who turn him down, small wonder that the king’s servants have success in filling his banquet hall the second time around.

But that’s not all. The parable goes on with one more act of horror. The king comes in inspecting his guests and notices one who didn’t fear the king enough at this point to dress in his best clothes possible, in his wedding garment. This crazy king goes off again and throws the man out into the darkness, bound hand and foot, vulnerable to any creature that comes upon him out there in the dark.  Jesus added a near onomatopoeic image about weeping and gnashing of teeth and this portrays the character of this king to good effect.

But where does this leave us.  We want to see and hear about this King as God, but we hear instead the picture of a king which doesn’t in anyway fit the picture of the God we see in the Crucified Jesus.  In fact, the crucified Jesus looks much more like the guy at the end of the parable: the one who is silent before his accuser, then bound up and thrown out.  What happens to that man in the parable is what is about to happen to Jesus.   Matthew’s Gospel emphasizes Jesus’ silence before his accusers more than any other Gospel.  We started by hearing the king as God, but by the end of the story, as disciples of the crucified Christ, we are, like my mother, more sympathetic to the guy thrown out of the party.

So, is this a case like with the Children’s Sermon of expecting to see Jesus but instead seeing a squirrel? Is it a case, in other words, of expecting to see God when we hear “king” but Jesus instead giving us something very different?  The Rev Paul Nuechterlein think that it is, and believes that this is the only way to take seriously all the terrible details about how this king behaves. Sometimes a king is simply a king. Thinking about it, in our human world of politics and authority, this is the king we expect to find because all human reigns are based on the authority of violence.  Even at “peaceful times,” the “peace” is maintained through the threat of an army or police force. We can see the king in this parable as the tyrant he is, a king who rules with the worst kind of brutality and terrorism.

The trouble is Jesus introduced this parable comparing what follows to the “kingdom of heaven.”  If Jesus is telling a parable about the way in which our earthly, violence-based authority is on display, then where do we see the kingdom of heaven? The Kingdom of heaven looks like what this king does to the man who stands silently before him at the end of the parable.  In short, it looks like what happened to Jesus when he stood silently in the face of his accusers and let them throw him out into the darkness of death.

The Rev Paul does use another verse from Matthew’s Gospel to prove what he is saying is correct.  Jesus says plainly – without imagery or parable: “The kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force.” (Matt 11:12).  Our human, earthly kingdoms operate by the threat or use of force; they dish out the violence.  But Jesus here is telling us straight out, that the kingdom of heaven is about suffering the violence instead of dishing it out.  It believes steadfastly, in other words, in the power of love and forgiveness as the greatest powers on earth. So, if we keep this clue in mind from chapter 11 of the Gospel, it helps understand these strange parables at the end of the Gospel, which Jesus tells in Jerusalem just as he himself is about to suffer their violence in love and forgiveness. This gospel passage about the violent king and the man not dressed in a wedding garment is about the collision of a typical earthly kingdom and the kingdom of heaven.

But what does this all mean for us?  Will we suffer the same fate? Maybe not exactly the same one. But we should probably expect to suffer for standing up to this world’s violent ways. In one of the other readings for last Sunday St. Paul, in Philippians wrote from prison [extemporize]:    rejoice in the Lord always   follow his example — Euodia and Syntyche should be in the same mind in the Lord.

Where do we see such examples of the kingdom of heaven today? Through those who stand against the evil, violent ways of human kingdoms.

How can we rejoice in the Lord always, like St. Paul? Because each week as we are able, we are invited to a banquet celebration of the victory of God’s kingdom: the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ….

An abridgement of a sermon by Paul J. Nuechterlein, delivered at Prince of Peace Lutheran, Portage, MI, October 12, 2008.

  1. http://girardianlectionary.net/reflections/year-a/proper23a_2008_ser/ []