Sunday: All Saints Sunday
Reading: Ecclesiasticus 44:1-10,13-14; Mathew 5:1-12
Preacher: Peter C. Lane

In college, I would go to the Bond Chapel here on the U of C campus to try to pray. I was always struck by the beautifully inscribed foot-high, brass letters around the church spelling out the words of the beatitudes: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy." It's compelling, isn't it? That there are people in history that live lives of such humility, live lives so much for others, that they could be described as pure in heart. I've seen glimpses of people like that. Sister Mary Joan Smith, passionate about HIV/Aids work in Philly is kinda like that. Those that live out the beatitudes are indeed Saints. They are in the whole family of God.

Yet, when I think of saints I don't often think of the meek or those in mourning. I think more of the heroes of the church. Like St. Augustine, that great philosopher, theologian and North African Bishop. Or Julian of Norwich, that great English mystic. Actually, the people we normally think of as saints are really better described by our Old Testament reading today from Ecclesiasticus. It sings the praises of the famous, who show valor, or intelligence, are prophets, or have wise counsel, or are great composers-those who are honored in their generation. You know--Gabriel Faure, Jane Addams, Harry Potter-well... These famous are indeed Saints. They are in the whole family of God.

But, I noticed an interesting line in the reading from Ecclesiasticus, a line that really helps me understand what makes a saint. It reads, "Some of them have left behind a name, so that others declare their praise. But of others there is no memory." Some saints are famous, of others there is no memory. If you look in the front of your prayer book, there is a listing of saints, those are the ones who have left behind their names, the ones we praise. But, what about those of whom there is no memory? I wonder if the Saints that leave behind no memory aren't the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, the merciful, those who are persecuted. Perhaps, these saints that swirl above us here fall into that category. It is perhaps these saints and those who leave behind no memory that can inspire us as we struggle on in the journey of sainthood.
For, saints are not just the dead. The catechism defines the communion of saints as that "whole family of God, the living and the dead, those whom we love and those whom we hurt, bound together in Christ by sacrament, prayer, and praise." We, us, here, can struggle to be saints, to live into our inclusion in the family of God. And we struggle in two ways: with our visible and applauded contributions-our fame, our valor, our intelligence. And we struggle in that radical way that Jesus shows, by mourning, by making peace, by sticking to righteousness even if it costs us persecution. When we seek to live in those ways, to join that whole family of God, then we can become one of the saints, bound together in Christ by the sacrament.

Now, you might realize that we are claiming something quite dramatic today. By reading the names of our dead, through our altar of repose, through our altar hanging, we are claiming that these people we knew are saints. Helen Bonbrest and Edward Vanorsby are more properly St. Helen and St. Edward. We are claiming that this Holy Day, this All Saints' Sunday, is a day to remember our dearly loved and departed, and to remember them as Saints. And it is a day to remember that we are called to be saints. When we, like little Spencer Roane, are baptized, we become members of the family of God.

Some of you must be thinking about the people whose names you wrote in the book, whose memory swirls above us. Thinking, my grandfather wasn't a saint. He was a mean, drunk, son of a gun. My husband's aunt? She was racist and condescending. We loved them sure, but are they saints? We claim they are. We often claim that God's property is always to have mercy. We claim that God reckons us as righteous, that God does not abandon us to the power of death, that God through Jesus Christ delivers us from evil, and makes us worthy to stand before God. All of these people are worthy to stand before God as Saints. Even the drunk Grandpa and the condescending aunt.

When we come to the altar to be fed by God, we form a circle. But, picture that circle extending to be a cylinder encompassing all the saints. It extends up through the saints that we have remembered here above the altar and up through heaven. Imagine it going down deep into the very ground of being, bringing together the whole communion of saints gathered at the feast of our Lord. Down on the left are those saints who are known for their valor, intelligence and wisdom. Up over here on the right are those saints who are honored for their meekness, mercy, and purity of heart. And here in front, gathered to receive the sacrament are those of us who are struggling to live into the reality of our inclusion in the family of God, all gathered as Saints at the great banquet feast of our Lord.

Or as the great hymn has it, "O blest communion, fellowship divine! We feebly struggle, thy saints in glory shine; yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine. Alleluia, Alleluia!"
Amen