Sermons

 In Life and in Death

In the spirit of All Saints Day, and in grateful memory of Third Church members who have died this past year, I would invite all who are able to stand, and let us join together with one voice in prayer.

Almighty God, you have knit together your elect in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of your Son, Christ our Lord. Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints in all virtuous and godly living that we may come to those ineffable joys that you have prepared for those who truly love you; through Jesus Christ our Savior, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting…and now, O God, we remember with gratitude those of this congregation who have died in this past year, and who we miss, and whose good works go before them…

James C. Hammerton, Robert S. Sherwood, Alice M. Hibner, Howard F. Rogers, Bruce M. Lansdale, Elizabeth L. Essley, Barbara S. Curry, Alfred G. Scheible, F. Bruce Cowley, Frank S. McKee, Mary E. Lundberg, Sarah M. Mills, Lucia R. Root, Dorothy M. Petri, William H. Hearne, Carol L. Mulford, Marian D. Sherwood, William H.J. Kline, Karen A. Faul, Richard M. Peck, Wayne L. McKusick, William M. Chase, Donald C. Fisher, Harriet W. Gramlich

***

There are sporting moments which transcend sports’ generally bad news and allow some deeper glimpse into the human experience, and possibilities for transformation.

* I never saw him play, but I was saddened by the senseless death of Jasper Howard, a player for the University of Connecticut football team. On October 18, two weekends ago, Howard was stabbed to death outside a campus party, dying in the arms of his teammates, an experience that should happen to no one, the least of which is a group of healthy, happy young men in their late teens and early twenties. The next Saturday, UConn played at West Virginia. There was a moment of silence before the game, and even the home team Mountaineers wore Howard’s jersey number 6 on their helmets, and his jersey held a place of prominence on the Huskies’ sideline.
* And though I never heard him announce a game, I would recognize the voice of Harry Kalas anywhere. Deep and resonant, sounding like Moses might have sounded (much more than Charlton Heston), Kalas was the long-time announcer for the Philadelphia Phillies, who, though I am not particularly a fan, I am this week. Kalas’ health had not been wonderful, but he died unexpectedly right before the start of this season. You might notice one of Harry’s sports jackets hanging on the rear wall of the Phillies dugout.
* And I never saw him play, Anaheim Angels’ pitcher Nick Adenhart. Adenhart had been a high school phemon, and then blew out his arm. It was strange to think of a man in his early twenties making a comeback, but that was the case for Adenhart. On the night of April 9, the twenty-two year old pitcher pitched well, throwing six scoreless innings. Just hours later, Adenhart was killed in a car crash, riding as a passenger in a car that was hit by a drunk driver. It was sad beyond sad, of course. The Angels preserved Adenhart’s locker as it was for the rest of the season, and wore a patch with his number. They also hung his jersey in the dugout during each game, and when they made the playoffs, doused the jersey with beer, as if he were part of the victory celebration. That act was criticized as insensitive by some; I am not so sure.

That is what we do today, this day which our tradition has called All Saints Day. We remember and give thanks. And more than that. We take inspiration from those who we remember, those whose jerseys hang on our dugout walls, who have been important to us, have mattered to us, who keep us going, influencing us still.

Last Sunday we commemorated Reformation Day, which, according to the calendar, was yesterday, the day before All Saints Day. Contrary to some historical impressions, saints were an important notion in the Protestant movement. John Witvliet reminds us that “the sixteenth-century Reformers abolished all celebrations related to saints. They had deep pastoral concern for people who believed that the saints could offer prayers on their behalf.”

Yet the reformers knew that scripture took seriously the ones that have preceded us in faith. The book of Hebrews talks about the “great cloud of witnesses.” Witvliet writes that “we give thanks for these saints not because of what they can do for us, but because of what Christ has already done through them...whether we acknowledge biblical figures…or more recent saints like a wise parent, mentor, or teacher.” He concludes: “Today we don’t have to worry too much about people in the Protestant church being tempted to pray to saints. In today’s church, deep pastoral concern should lead us to be grateful for occasions to praise God for faithful Christians who have gone before us, including significant people in our own lives.”

That’s what we do today. John Calvin believed in saints. In his Geneva Catechism, a kind of question-and-response form of faith, Calvin wrote this about the “communion of saints” portion of the Apostles’ Creed:

STUDENT - And what is the (purpose) of what (is said) concerning the communion of saints?

TEACHER - That is put down to express more clearly the unity which exists among the members of the Church…seeing they all have communion with each other.

STUDENT - But is this holiness which you attribute to the Church already perfect?

TEACHER - Not yet, that is as long as she (the church) has her warfare in this world. For she always labors under infirmities…

That is to say that the saints matter, and they include those who have gone before us, and they include us. They, and we, are not perfect, but they are examples, and we are in communion with them, in a kind of holy community.

I believe that still, which makes the church more than a voluntary social organization, more than a simple gathering to do good. In the context of our stewardship theme, the connecting we do and the community we build takes on a spiritual dimension. The passenger manifest includes all of us, but it also includes those who have gone before us, who have taught us and inspired us, who have lived the faith, embodied the faith, that we might have examples and do the same, and then pass it on.

And speaking of the ship, time for a little detour, a little re-routing. I am often asked what Presbyterians believe, and earlier this fall spent a little time on two simple, but not simplistic, answers: grace and sovereignty. That still is plenty, and that still is enough. But there are times when we want more.

At one point in the generation following Calvin, some Dutch Reformed Calvinist theologians devised a formula. It was later summarized as TULIP – T-U-L-I-P. Get it? Dutch? TULIP? I am pretty sure Calvin would not have embraced it in this way, but others are even more sure in the opposite way. Faith defies simplistic formulations, but TULIP insisted on these fundamentals: Total Depravity, Unconditional Election, Limited Atonement (also known as Particular Atonement), Irresistible Grace, and the Perseverance of the Saints.

That last one was what reminded me of this in the first place. Perseverance of the saints meant essentially “once saved, always saved,” but not exactly, and not for this morning, anyway. Some Christians in the broader Calvin family will still embrace the TULIP formula, and I am not necessarily opposed to any of this.

Perhaps formulas are compelling. In the early 1900’s, we Presbyterians, for a very short time, embraced another list of five fundamentals that every minister would need to affirm prior to being ordained. We eliminated such a litmus test almost as soon as we adopted it. That list included: inerrancy of the Scriptures, the virgin birth and the deity of Jesus, the doctrine of substitutionary atonement, the bodily resurrection of Jesus, the authenticity of Christ's miracles.

When people ask me this question, I do not tiptoe through TULIP nor turn to a list from more than a century ago. I do turn to our constitution, which suggests this:

* We embrace what all Christians affirm, the Triune God and God incarnate in Jesus Christ.
* With the Protestant tradition we embrace the watchwords “grace alone, faith alone, scripture alone.”
* With the Reformed theological tradition, sometimes called Calvinism, we embrace “the majesty, holiness, and providence of God who creates, sustains, rules and redeems the world in the freedom of sovereign righteousness and love.”
* And finally what our constitution calls “great themes of the Reformed tradition,” we embrace:

There will be no test on that, and no extra charge, but it’s not a bad summary of what we Reformed, Presbyterian, yes Calvinist, Christians have affirmed over time. These serve better as touchstones than dogma, and, in the spirit of this morning, time-honored roadmaps and urgings from those who have gone before us rather than arcane, irrelevant mechanical formulations of antiquated issues.

Which leads us back to the saints. The Second Helvetic Confession tells us that we should consider the saints as “friends,” who we love and honor and imitate, imitate their faith. The Westminster Confession calls this a “holy fellowship.”

It is a reality of this place that as we are growing at the younger end of the demographic spectrum, we are growing at the older end as well. The list we shared earlier, poignant and powerful, makes that real. It also implies several things. It implies that we care for one another, for those who are aging in our congregation, and those who are caring for them.

But it also implies, maybe even demands, that we connect with them, learn from them, receive inspiration from them, imitate them. They are our pillars, and will be so whether in our physical fellowship or our spiritual fellowship.

When the book of Revelation talks about death being no more, and tears being wiped away from eyes, and God making all things new, that is an All Saints admonition. When Jesus redeems Mary’s weeping and unbinds Lazarus, that is an All Saints admonition, that the ways we connect and commune with one another exceed our understandings and limited abilities.

It means that we do more than hang a jersey on a dugout wall, as important as that is. We take it off the hanger and try it on. And we play the game better because of the players who have gone before us. And more than that. The game itself, the church itself, faith itself, life itself, is better.

May they rest in peace. May their good works go before them. And may we imitate them, all to the glory of God in whom we find true and full communion, with all the saints.

Amen.