Matthew 5:1-12
1
When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his
disciples came to him. 2 Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying: 3
"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 4
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. 5 "Blessed
are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. 6 "Blessed are those who
hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. 7 "Blessed
are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. 8 "Blessed are the pure in
heart, for they will see God. 9 "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they
will be called children of God. 10 "Blessed are those who are persecuted
for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 11 "Blessed
are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil
against you falsely on my account. 12 Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is
great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were
before you.
Reflection
I
must admit that today is one of my favorite Sundays in the church year. Today is All Saints Sunday, where we remember
the people to whom our hearts have clung, who have died, and who are now with
God as a part of the church triumphant. I
know that this can be a rough Sunday, especially for those who have lost
someone very close to them this past year.
In a way, All Saints Sunday can feel like a second funeral, with the
spirits of those we loved and have lost lingering in the church, and the pain
of their loss lingering in our hearts.
But I love All Saints Sunday because of something that I just mentioned: the idea that those I love and have lost are still lingering in the church. I find great comfort in the reality that when we sing our All Saints hymns, my Grandma Helen is right next to me singing as well, in her raspy but committed voice. We still sing together in the same way that we sang hymns together in the pew when I was nine years old.
In addition to that, I find great comfort in the thought that when I preside at the table, my father, who was also a pastor, sings the liturgy with me at the feet of Jesus Christ our Lord.
Along with that, I find great comfort in the knowledge that when we eat the meal, my Grandma Marian, who ate with us here at this very communion altar several times, is still eating the meal with us. This day is the great family reunion of those who love God and love one another. It is the feast of the saints of God.
Of course, every Sunday is the technically the feast of the saints of God. That is why communion can be so moving for so many of us. We know that every time we gather at the table, we eat next to our loved ones; but All Saints Sunday is the Sunday when we stop to recognize that is precisely what is happening. It is the gathering of the saints of God feasting together at the table of God. And it does not matter if a person is entering the reunion through the doors of the church, through the door of Baptism, or through the resurrection door, we all get to gather and feast this day at the table of God where the feasting never ends. This is the feast of the saints of God.
And that means that you too are a saint. You may fear that this celebration could not possibly include you. If that is your fear, I would like to remind you that in the Bible, a saint is not a morally perfect person, nor are they a person of superman-like faith. No, in the Bible Paul calls all the members of the church “saints.” In Ephesians 1:1 he writes, “Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, to the saints who are in Ephesus.”
Christ has claimed you his own. That baptismal claim cannot be wiped away with any towel. So, welcome to the family reunion, O saints of God.
Why don’t we sit down and swap some old pictures from the scrapbook of Christianity, and look at some of those saints, some of those everyday Christians whom Jesus brought into the family through grace.
You can see snapshots of what those saints look like as you read Matthew, Chapter 5. Immediately you see the undeniable image of the “poor in spirit.” “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,” Matthew 5:3 begins. The poor in Spirit are those who lack the power to shape their own lives. They do not have a powerful spirit. They are powerless. Yet the good life of the kingdom belongs to them.
I think of the brother and sister who entered the foster care system holding only their blankets when the police finally caught up with their parents. They had no power over what their parents had done to them, nor did they have any power over what would happen to them in the future. But Jesus promised them the kingdom, and I am happy to say that they were embraced at the feast of the saints, and they joined me in our feast of Nilla wafers in my childhood Sunday School class. They sat next to the kid who ate crayons. I guess he is at God’s feast too.
On the next page of the scrapbook of the saints of God, we find ourselves surrounded by those who mourn. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Matthew 5:4). No, they do not ruin the party as they often fear. Rather, their tears draw us closer together as we wrap our arms around their shoulders for comfort. Some of them mourn for a world they hoped they could have, but it never came. Parents stumbling through the rubble of their homes during wartime had hoped for peaceful neighborhoods and green lawns. Even they will get to eat some southern cooked comfort food at the Lord’s feast.
Still looking at the scrapbook of the saints of God we see a picture of the meek. “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5). Rather than talking about someone who stays in the background because they do not want to be in the spotlight (though God loves those “meek” people as well) the people that Jesus is talking about here are the people who are in the background because they are never seen in the first place. The good life belongs to the “unimportant” Jesus declares. The child who is not asked by anyone to play at recess, ever; the child who says, “Its fine, I am used to being alone,” to that child and every other unimportant person, Jesus is going to make sure that they have a permanent place at his feast. The whole earth is their inheritance from God.
Of course, there are “those who hunger and thirst for righteousness” (Matthew 5:6). They have a deep, stomach-growling hunger for relationships to be made right. The good life belongs to those who starve for people to be drawn back together. These children of God care deeply about the brothers or sisters who refuse to talk and crave to see them brought back together. Seeing that happen is how God could fill their stomachs.
As you feast at the Lord’s table, looking through the pictures of the saints you hear the unmistakable voice of the merciful one. “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy” (Matthew 5:7). The merciful one is the person who makes certain that everyone is treated like family. She has hand-made crafts for everyone at the table. And yes, she even pulls out a chair for the hated one, the family betrayer. You see; the merciful one knows that only when seated at the table does the betrayer have the chance to reach for a buttered roll of forgiveness. She trusts Jesus when he says, “love your enemies” (Matthew 5:44).
You have a chuckle as you pass on the much hated and slightly burned green bean casserole, and your pure-hearted brother takes it, smiles genuinely and says “Thank you so much. This stuff is great.” “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God” (Matthew 5:8). He sees potential in everything and everyone. He has never grown old. His heart is still the heart of a child. His heart matches God’s heart in such a pure way, you are convinced that he and God hang out together and play rounds of golf on the weekends. He sees God, and it is a beautiful thing for you to see.
A moment is taken in the gathering to honor Father Joe. It is said that in the middle of war, with only his prayer book in hard, the good priest convinced the enemy at gunpoint to put down their arms. “These are you brothers and sisters. You cannot harm your brothers and sisters, can you?” That day he saved both sides from losing life, and instead an exchange of candy and cigarettes ruled the day. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” (Matthew 5:9). Anyone who runs toward conflict rather than running away, all so that peace might rule the day, gets a special toast. At least that is what I think.
We also raise a glass to all who were and are currently persecuted for their Christian faith or for seeking to make things right and good in the world in the way Jesus did. Some of the persecuted ones are unable to gather with us, as they spend their feasting time behind bars or worse. The formerly persecuted, who eat the feast with us from the other side of death, know their names and make certain that we do not forget. Held hostage for loving the world, they reflect the heart of Jesus who was taken captive and hung on a cross to make things right and good in the world again. Their lives and Jesus’ life are so intertwined that we cannot even conceive of forgetting to take time to pray for them.
As we look around the table at all the feasting and laughing, we see saints from the rest of Jesus’ ministry also, as The Reverend Ralph Jacobson puts it, we see “sinners who are forgiven, handicapped who are healed, the rejected who are received, the cursed who are blessed, the unclean who are purified, the salt of the earth, the light of the world. That’s our family.”
https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5461
Today, we give thanks to God for them all...for us all. For the Lord called each one of us, bathing us with the waters of grace, feeding us with the delicious meal of love, and wrapping us with a warm blanket of eternity.
Rejoice and be glad you people, for you are children of heaven. You are the saints of God.
