Isaiah 25.6-9; Revelation 21.1-8
The Apostle Paul writes:
For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.
Today, we remember the Dead … a way of saying thanks, a time to learn, a time to make new promises and revive forgotten dreams … to move ahead, as best we can, to continue their work!
Years ago, in Michigan, I did a lot of bicycling … I often rode in two very large cemeteries - great roads, no traffic, except for the occasional funeral … and on all sides, gravestones … different shapes and sizes, with all sorts of sentiments engraved upon the stones … to mark the mortal remains of infants and children … the young, the middle aged, the very old … the good, the very good, and the not so good … all of them …
In my imagination, I heard everyone sing … the little ones, the infants, the children - songs of joy, with laughter and delight.
Those with some years under their belt - a more complicated song:
We did it, and you will, too … we made mistakes, and you make yours … we love, and you love … we failed to act more than we care to admit, and in our failure, we learned … and so we pass from this life, and we pass on to you the things left undone, things that need to be undone … we sing to you, we cry out to you, Finish our work, finish our work! we pray. Finish our work!
Remember the Dead …
Every time we come to the Lord’s Table, we proclaim the LORD’s Death, says the Apostle Paul …
We celebrate his birth with Christmas, we cherish his words with study, we remember his stories with our own promises to be faithful, we proclaim his death in the season of Lent, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday … I wish we didn’t it call it Good Friday, though it is very good … but maybe Grief Friday, or Tearful Friday, would be better, to give some sense of the final truth of Jesus on the cross:
Life requires sacrifice … there is no easy road to the good …
Rear a child … make a home.
Go to work …
Love God and love the neighbor … forgive and be forgiven …
strive for justice,
stand up for truth and kindness,
challenge the lies of privilege and power,
defend those who have no voice …
call out bigotry and ignorance …
resist the distortions of Christian Nationalism … those who hold a Bible in one hand and a gun in the other …
Reach for the best, not the worst … reach for the highest, not the lowest … and even if you’re afraid, be brave.
Because:
Puerto Rico is not an Island of Garbage …
Millions of human beings are in dire need …
The glaciers are melting …
Transchildren and their families are not the enemy.
The abuse of women is unconscionable …
A consumer society that has no other purpose is deadly to body and soul.
Stand up to the lies, tell the truth … love where others hate, make room for one another, appreciate diversity and not be frightened … never bow down to the altars of race and religion, but only to the cross of Christ, to the God of Moses and the Prophets, to what is good and bright and beautiful, to the best of the human dream, and to the child beside us.
Life requires a lot!
Those who want to save their life will lose it, says Jesus, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.
We remember the dead, our DNA ancestors … we have Grampa’s eyes, or Gramma’s nose … we have their stories. All of us have a past - some of us know it, and for some of us, it’s unknown … but God knows, and we say, “Thank you Dear God for those who gave me life.”
We remember the dead - the good they did, the good they didn’t do.
Some of us are burdened by difficult family memories - life was taken instead of given …
My mother hurt me in spirit and body … but she gave me some gifts - a sense of humor, a love of books, and some intelligence, or so I hope … whatever happened to her to maker her as she was, I have no idea … my son said to me, “Dad, you didn’t pass it on!” And that’s true, thank God … I’ve passed on other things, I’m sure …
To remember the dead - those of our DNA & family lineage, and those of the soul … the spirit … the invisible world of faith, hope, and love.
Our spiritual ancestors …
Adam and Eve in the Garden, and the snake in the grass …
Cain and Able …
Noah and the animals on the ark …
Sarah and Abraham …
Joseph in Egypt …
Moses in the wilderness …
Joshua in the Promised Land …
Rahab the prostitute …
King David and King Ahab … and the star of the show, Queen Esther in Persia …
Isaiah, Amos and Jonah …
Naomi, Ruth and Hannah
Mary, the Mother of Jesus …
Peter, James and John,
the Apostle Paul and Lydia …
the woman at the well …
the Good Samaritan …
the thief on the cross.
the women at the tomb.
St. Augustin, St. Francis, St. Catherine, St. Teresa …
Luther, Calvin and Knox …
Bonhoeffer in Germany … Martin Luther King, Jr. at the Edmund Pettus Bridge.
Missionaries and musicians, teachers and preachers …
People, just plain, ordinary, people, none of whom are perfect, but all who look to the perfect Savior …
They sing the hymns and say their prayers … confident in Christ, contrite in heart ..
They love and do right … they sin and they fail … by the grace of God, they do their work … and by the grace of God, it’s up to us - to finish their work.
Can we do it?
I believe we can!
Amen and Amen!
