St. Gregory’s Church Woodstock
Sunday, 23 November 2008, Christ the King
The Rev’d Susan Auchincloss
For today’s reading go to: http://bible.oremus.org
Since the fourth century the church has celebrated All Saints Day. What makes that Day so important? Who are we celebrating? We are celebrating the lives of people like you and me. All of us are saints-in-the-making. All of us shine forth with the light of Christ to some degree. In the great saints the light of Christ shines forth to a great degree. So we celebrate this day, because the great Saints remind us that we hold within us astonishing possibilities. They inspire us.
What exactly is it that inspires us? Their piety? Their compassionate hearts? Their endurance under persecution? Perhaps; but these are qualities we can see in them. Things we can praise in them. In the long run, are we really motivated by how we look to others? I believe the Saints draw us to them the way a camp fire draws us from the cold and the dark. We want that same fire burning in us. We want that intense vitality and joy that we call the life of Christ. We want their inner life, not their outward appearances.
Can we figure out what it is about the great Saints that kindles that inner life? I think we can if we study the Gospels. It stands to reason that if Jesus emphasized one of his teachings above others, that might hold the key to fire within. See if you follow me in this. I think that key is judgment. Jesus told parable after parable where judgment was the issue. The father did not ask the prodigal son where he had been or what he had done; he just opened his arms and welcomed him home. No judgment. The Good Samaritan did not ask if the bloody, beaten man beside the road was worthy; he just started helping. No judgment. Jesus also spoke more directly against judging others. For instance, he warned against our tendency to see the tiny speck of a mistake in our neighbor’s eye, while all the time being blind to the “log” of mis-doings in our own eye. And what does it mean to forgive? Doesn’t it mean I release you from judgment? Jesus even said point blank: “Do not judge….” Or take today’s Gospel that we call the Beatitudes. “Blessed are the poor in spirit…, blessed are those who mourn…, the meek…, the merciful,” and so forth. We are not hearing about different categories of people here, but we are hearing about the different facets of a Saint. None of these facets allow for judgment. It seems safe to say that the great Saints somehow learned to give up judging others. The question is, how?
Here is a poignant Hasidic tale that suggests how. Once there was a holy man, a man who fasted and prayed regularly, who was noted for his wisdom, for his compassionate heart and good deeds, for his simple way of life and self-denial. One day he asked God to reveal to him who his seat partner would be when he got to Paradise. God granted him this request. What he saw was an enormously fat man, a man who appeared to live only for self-gratification. How could this be? thought the holy one. Something must be wrong. He set out to seek the man who had been revealed to him by God.
When at last he found this man, he told him about his request to God and the revelation God had given him; and he asked the great human slug how such a one as he could be his seat partner in Paradise. The man replied that he had no idea. In fact, he had just one idea in life, and that was to make himself as obese as he possibly could. Dumbfounded, the Holy One asked, “Why is that?”
The enormous man told him this story. When he was a little boy, he and his father were walking through the woods hand in hand. A group of young aristocrats rode by on their horses, and seeing a Jew, they reined in. They began to taunt his father and then beat him. Finally they tied him to a tree and heaped fire wood around his feet. “Renounce your God, renounce your Jewish faith,” they demanded. His father would not. The little boy ran into the forest, and from behind some bushes he watched what happened. The men lit the wood on fire, and as his father burned he praised God, and offered himself as a sacrifice to God. The fat man concluded his story by saying, “I made up my mind right then that if that ever happened to me, I wanted to make the biggest fire for God that I possibly could.”
This story may or may not be true, yet its point is real; we cannot tell from surface appearances or from behavior who is a saint and who is a sinner. Each of us has a story within us; and none of us can know each other’s story. In fact, God alone can read our hearts. We cannot truly know even our own story. No wonder Jesus warned us against judgment. Not only do we grope in the dark when we judge another, but we infringe on God’s domain; for God clearly declared, “Judgment is mine!” Few things destroy the fabric of a community faster than one member judging another; and Jesus was all about forming a loving community.
Judgment not only frays a community, it spoils life for us as individuals as well. Someone recently handed me a wooden acorn. It was so cunningly carved that if you held it in your right hand and had a real acorn in your left hand, you could scarcely tell the difference – same weight, same shape, same texture…. Yet your left hand holds a tiny miracle. Given the right conditions and enough time, it could re-forest the entire planet. What is the difference between the two acorns? One contains an inconceivable amount of information, true. But behind that lies a mysterious energy that the wooden acorn lacks. If this energy were set in motion, in time it could keep a whole family warm all winter, year after year. When we give ourselves over to judgment we become like the wooden acorn. Outwardly we appear the same, yet we have lost our miraculous energy with all its vitality.
To return to the original question, Why do we celebrate All Saints Day? Because great Saints serve as guides to godly living for us saints-in-the-making. Great Saints may or may not appear to be pious, compassionate, or strong; yet they do model a stunning indifference to judging others. And this frees them to open to that mysterious energy that re-forests this lonely, hurting world with structures of compassion.
I’ll end this sermon with a practical thought, for we won’t be together again until after the election. You may be asking, “Is sainthood practical? Can I make it in this world without judging? How, for instance, can I vote on November 4th if I do not judge the candidates?” We are not called to judge the candidates as people; we are called to judge what they stand for, what they have done or not done in the past, what they promise. As saints-in-the-making we seek to promote Jesus’ values. These would include feeling compassion for individuals, but compassion counts as much or more for society. Compassion alone should drive us to the polls; for between candidates it is usually possible to discern who will do more to create the conditions within which all people can grow and thrive; who will do more to relieve suffering; who will do more to open up opportunities for people at all levels; who will do more to create a heathy society free from fear. This is holy discernment, not judgment; it is needed; and a very saintly thing to do.