“Joined Together”
Ephesians 2:17-22
Rev. Dr. Deborah L. Clark
Nov. 6, 2016
Robbie Lovewell was a thespian at heart. When his health allowed, he acted with Grace Church’s Not Ready for Anytime Players and sang with the choir. A talented musician, a passionate actor, Robbie struggled with complicated health issues–and spent too much time in the hospital. Robbie died in August. The legacy he leaves includes the reminder that even amidst suffering and limitation, each of us has a voice to raise. In the face of pain and loss, we can make a joyful noise.
Like Robbie, Jessie Aufman struggled with complicated health issues. Diagnosed with Sanfilippo syndrome as a little girl, Jessie had a bone marrow transplant that kept her and her parents and her then-baby brother in and out of hospitals and isolated for more than a year. She and her family learned to live with the physical and intellectual challenges that were part of Sanfilippo. The very real limitations she faced, though, could not constrain her spirit. She was surrounded by so much love, and she knew it. She reflected that love back, magnified many times over, with joy and light. Jessie died on the cusp of the new year, at the age of 13. Her death leaves a huge hole for the people who loved her so dearly. Her life leaves a powerful legacy–a profound expression of the power of love to break through and shine with joy.
Peg Walenski’s life was very different from Robbie’s or Jessie’s, but she shared their strength and courage. Peg was an army nurse during World War II, serving during the Battle of the Bulge, caring for soldiers who had helped liberate the concentration camps. She was a poet, using her creativity and her words to transform painful truths into hope and promise. A faithful member of Edwards Church for decades, Peg was a traditionalist, reminding us to honor the wisdom of those who have gone before us. Peg died a few days before Easter, at the age of 95. Her legacy is courage and determination and creativity.
Helen Stetson, like Peg, lived a long and full life and was a faithful member of her church–Grace Church–for decades. She was on the membership committee and active in Grace Women. Her friends remember her working at the church fairs–one of many different ways Grace reached out to welcome the wider community. Helen died in August at the age of 93. Her legacy includes building community and offering hospitality.
Florence Sachs was all about community and hospitality, with a different twist. Florence found a home at Open Spirit, where she could claim the depth and beauty of her Jewish heritage while honoring her soulmate Bill’s Christian faith. Through her words, actions, and her being, she challenged us to broaden our definition of community, to recognize the ever-shifting nature of our identities and our circles. Most important, she inspired us to value what we find at the intersections of those circles. Florence died last month, a few weeks shy of her 79th birthday. Her legacy is about bringing people together, celebrating the richness of our diversity and reveling in the things we can learn from one another.
Every time I ran into Leo Mogan, I believe, it was at something environmentally-focused. I’d see him getting out of his Prius, or helping out at the quarterly styrofoam recycling. Jean and his friends from Grace know that his commitment to the environment was just one aspect of who he was. Leo was a beloved companion. He was a mainstay of the Grace Church men’s group. He died in February at the age of 92. His legacy includes a commitment to action to care for our planet.
Marty Carl always sat in the fourth or fifth pew of the church. She smiled through the whole service. And every week she was here, during celebrations and concerns, she gave thanks for the nice people at Whitney Place who helped out. She had a deep faith that got her through a tough life. Marty died about a year ago. Her legacy is an attitude of gratitude.
Today we celebrate All Saints Day. Drawing upon ancient traditions like the Celtic festival of Samhain, this Christian holy day emerged around the 7th or 8th century. At one point it was a day to remember the canonized saints of the church who weren’t quite important enough to get their own individual saint days. As the holiday has evolved, the focus has shifted away from honoring the saints canonized for their extraordinary lives. Instead, we celebrate the saints as they were defined in the early church.
Paul writes about being “citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God.” To be a saint, for Paul, is simply to be one of the community of believers. To be a saint is not to be set apart but to be part of this messy, complicated effort to be a household of God together.
On All Saints Day, we claim that we are all saints. We pause to remember the saints who have gone before us–honoring in this sermon some of those from our churches who died this past year, honoring in our time of remembering all of our loved ones who have shaped and blessed our lives. On All Saints Day, we recognize that the ties that bind us together as a community extend backwards and forwards in time. Our community includes the saints who have died and the saints who have not yet been born. Who we are and what we do today is shaped by the legacy of those who have gone before us. Who we are and what we do today is shaped by what we hope to leave for our children and our grandchildren.
Our All Saints Day celebration this year coincides with the beginning of our Stewardship emphasis. The Stewardship Team–Heather, Clair, and Myrna–chose the theme, “Together We Can.” It’s a great theme–hopeful, positive, oriented toward future possibilities. Today we pause to recognize that all the possibilities we dream about are built on the foundation of the saints who have gone before us.
The apostle Paul, writing to the highly contentious new church in Ephesus, works with this image of a foundation. The cornerstone, he writes, is Jesus–his teachings, his example, his courage, his love. The apostle and prophets–the ones who came before Jesus and the ones who came after–form the foundation. Two thousand years later, we celebrate that the foundation of our household of God includes the generations since, the people who have tried to live faithful lives. It’s an oddly shaped foundation, for none of the saints had perfect foresight or complete understanding. Even with its odd shape, it is a firm foundation, rooting us on solid ground as we reach for new possibilities.
“Together we can.” Our stewardship theme is inspiring and positive. And it is a bit jarring two days before the culmination of this brutally divisive election season. So many horrible things have been said. So much distrust has been cultivated. So much hatred and disgust have been unleashed. There is such a sense of despair that anyone will be able to govern our nation in a positive, healing way. Together we can? Really?
Really. It is jarring to say those words, and so we need to say them over and over again. We need to live them even when we struggle to believe them.
“Together we can” is a bold expression of our faith, one that recognizes all the layers of “together” than need to happen to bring possibility to fruition. Together with God–relying on God’s guidance and inspiration made known in Jesus–we can be part of God’s kin-dom of love. Together, as individuals choosing to seek community, we can hold each other up. Together as two congregations becoming one, we can use our shared resources gifts and wisdom. Together with other communities of faith and good will we can multiply our impact. Together with the saints who have gone before us we can build on their legacy.
Together we can, for we are building on a strong foundation, one that starts with Jesus’ life and teachings, one that is strengthened by each of the saints who have gone before us. I began my sermon lifting up seven saints from our two congregations, saints whose deaths this past year leave us still grieving, saints whose lives inspire us. I want to end by coming back to those seven saints, honoring their gifts that enable us to move into a future filled with possibility.
Our seven saints remind us that each one of us has a voice to be raised, even in times of pain and suffering. They challenge us to be a community of hospitality–a challenge that is as simple as the welcome table at a church fair and as complex as multi-faith conversations and anti-racism work. They inspire us to take action rather than just talking. They offer an example of how, in times of war, despair and brokenness, we can take risks to be healers. They call us to gratitude. They assure us that we are held in love, that we can absorb and reflect and magnify that love, that we can bring light and hope to our world.
Together with God. Together in community, two congregations becoming one. Together with other communities of good will. Together with the saints who have gone before us. Together we can. Thanks be to God. Amen.