So today is All Saints’
Sunday. All Saints’ Day itself was last Friday, and there was the
annual service to remember those who died during the past year,
either from our churches or people dear to church members. I expect
there’s considerable overlap between the two! But,
you know, while that is
a wonderful thing to do, and can help enormously when people are
grieving, in fact, All Saints is a celebration of life, not a
memorial of death!
After
all, we believe that this life, wonderful though it is, isn’t the
end, but that we are raised from death to new life with Christ. We
become part of what’s called the Church Triumphal – here on
earth, we’re known as the Church Militant. And that’s what we’re
celebrating today. Our hymns and readings are reflecting that, I
hope.
Our first reading came from that part of the Bible
known as the Apocrypha. Those are the books that Catholic and
Orthodox Christians consider part of the Bible, but Protestants
don’t, although we are encouraged to read them, but not necessarily
to consider them doctrinally sound. This particular book is called
Wisdom, or the Wisdom of Solomon. They don’t know who wrote it –
spoiler alert: it wasn’t King Solomon – but they think it came
from Alexandria between the first century BC and the first century
AD. It’s one of the
books where Wisdom – Sofia – is personified and equated to God
herself!
We read part of chapter 3 this morning, which
tells us that the righteous who have died are with God: “They leave
us, but it is not a disaster. In fact, the righteous are at peace.
It might appear that they have suffered punishment, but they have the
confident hope of immortality. Their sufferings were minor compared
with the blessings they will receive.”
St
Paul said much the same thing, if you remember, in his letter to the
church in Rome: “I
consider that what we suffer at this present time cannot be compared
at all with the glory that is going to be revealed to us.”
I
believe that, in very ancient times, the Hebrew people didn’t
really have the concept of an afterlife. You can see that in the
Psalms, when they write things like “No-one praises you when
they’re dead”, and words to that effect. But gradually, over the
centuries, as they were taken into exile, as they were persecuted,
they began to believe that the God they believed loved them wouldn’t
just let them suffer without some reward. They could, after all,
“eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die!” They could curse
God and die, as Job’s wife suggested he might want to. But
instead, they gradually began to realise that this life wasn’t all
there is. And in the passage we heard read, we are told that “the
righteous” will be in God’s presence, and
will be rewarded.
As Christians, of course, we believe
that Jesus is our righteousness. We can’t, and won’t, get into
heaven on our own merits, but because of Jesus’ death and
resurrection. I’m sure our merits will be acknowledged, but our
tickets to heaven have already been paid for by Jesus!
As
Martha realises, in our Gospel reading. You know the story, of
course –
Lazarus was the brother of Martha and Mary, and Jesus
seems to have been a frequent, and beloved, visitor to their home in
Bethany, just outside Jerusalem. It’s possible, if not probable,
that he stayed there most years when he came up to Jerusalem for the
Passover, and they certainly seem to have been among his closest
friends.
Anyway, Lazarus falls ill, and they send to Jesus
to come and heal him. But Jesus, unaccountably, delays for another
two days. And when he does set out to go there, the disciples are
rather worried, as they fear for his safety. But he explains that
Lazarus has died, and God wants him raised from the dead.
And
when he gets to Bethany, both Martha and Mary disobey tradition, and
come out to meet him. Normally, relatives of the deceased were
expected to stay seated on low stools while the visitors came to them
to offer their condolences – it’s called sitting shiva, and I
understand it’s done in Jewish families to this day. Anyway,
Martha and Mary run out to meet him, Martha first. Jesus has this
wonderful conversation with her which culminates in him saying to
her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me,
even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes
in me will never die. Do you believe this?” and Martha replying
with that wonderful declaration of faith: “I believe that you are
the Christ, the Son of God who was to come into the world.” Martha
said this. Martha. A woman – and not only a woman, but a
traditional woman, usually more concerned with getting a meal for
Jesus and the disciples than in learning what he had to say! It’s
amazing.
And,
as you know, the story goes on and we learn how
Mary comes out to Jesus in her turn, and Jesus weeps at his friend’s
grave. And then he calls for the stone to be rolled away and Martha,
wonderful, practical Martha, complains that it’s going to stink
quite dreadfully after four days.... but the stone gets rolled away,
and Lazarus comes forth, still wrapped in his graveclothes.
Now,
it’s a wonderful story, and I expect you, like me, have heard many
great sermons and much wonderful teaching on it. But for today, it’s
about life. Lazarus is raised to life, and he will continue his life
on earth until the day comes when he really is ready to go and be
with Jesus in heaven.
He wasn’t the only person Jesus
raised from the dead, if you remember. There was Jairus’ daughter,
who was only twelve years old, so Jesus called her back from the
dead. And there was a young man who was his widowed mother’s only
support, and Jesus called him back, too. Someone once said that he
disrupted every funeral he ever attended. I’m not sure how true
that is – there must have been many funerals he went to where the
person’s time had really come, and it was only right to bury their
body. But certainly, the ones we are told about.
His
first disciples did that, too – Peter certainly raised Dorcas, or
Tabitha – her name depends on what language you
were thinking in, as she’s Tabitha in Aramaic, but Dorcas in Greek
– anyway, Peter raised her from the dead. I got a grin out of
re-reading the story, as I’d never noticed before that Peter has
turfed everybody out of the room, and kneels down to pray, and then,
we are told “he
turned to the body and said, “Tabitha, get up!” She opened her
eyes, and when she saw Peter, she sat up.”
I can’t help but wonder what she thought he was doing – I can
just picture her sitting up, most indignantly, demanding to know what
this strange man was doing in her bedroom!
However, that’s
beside the point. What is the point, though, is that it’s all
about life. We
believe that, like Lazarus, we shall be raised from dead. But unlike
him, we shall probably be raised to eternal life with Jesus, and God
will wipe away every tear from our eyes. And we are also told that
Jesus came so that we might have life, and have it abundantly. And
that
applies to the here and now, too; it’s
not just pie in the sky when we die! Our whole lives now have that
eternal dimension.
That doesn’t mean, of course, that we
won’t experience great sorrow, and
quite possibly great suffering,
here – sadly, that is part of human existence.
And it
doesn’t mean
that we can live just as we like, doing whatever we like, because God
has saved us. Rather to the contrary, I think personal holiness is
very important. We need to do all we can to avoid sin.
Jesus
shows us in some of his teachings what his people are going to be
like:
poor in spirit – not thinking more of themselves than
they ought; mourning, perhaps for the ungodly world in which we live;
meek, which means slow to anger and gentle with others; hungry and
thirsty for righteousness; merciful; pure in heart; peacemakers and
so on.
St Paul gives other lists of characteristics that
Christians will display;
you probably remember from his letter
to the Galatians:
Love, joy, peace, patience and so on. And he
gives lots of lists of the sort of behaviour that Christians don’t
do, ranging from gluttony to fornication. Basically the sort of
things that put “Me” first, and make “me” the centre of my
life.
But the wonderful thing is that we don’t have to
strive and struggle and do violence to our own natures. Yes, of
course, we are inherently selfish and it’s nearly impossible to put
God first in our own strength. But the whole point is, we don’t
have to do it in our own strength. That is why God sent the Holy
Spirit, to come into us, fill us, and transform us. We wouldn’t be
very happy in heaven if we were stuck in our old nature, after all!
But if we let God transform us, we can have abundant life
here on this earth, and then we leave our bodies behind and go on to
be with Jesus. And that, we are told, is even better! As
St Paul said, “What
we suffer at this present time cannot be compared at all with the
glory that is going to be revealed to us.”
Jesus asks
us, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me,
even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes
in me will never die. Do you believe this?”
Can we
reply, with Martha, “I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of
God, who was to come into the world.”?
