Isaiah 25:6-9, Revelation 21:1-6a and John 11:32-44: A sermon on the Sunday when we celebrated All Saints in the morning and commemorated All Souls in the evening.
Image credit: Maria Lang - Jesus wept
Over the last 18 months we’ve seen rainbows painted in windows and on recycling bins, featuring in street art and in school displays. Key workers became our heroes - contemporary saints, if you like. Over the last 18 months, a mural of hand drawn hearts has been painted on the Southbank - next to St Thomas’s Hospital and opposite Parliament - a visual representation of lives lost and of personal memories. It’s a tribute to very many souls.
In the midst of life, we are in death. But All Saints and All Souls remind us of a deeper truth: in the midst of death, we are promised life. We affirm value of every life; those who’ve taught us the faith; the connections across time, culture, history, and eternity. Rainbows - God’s faithful love. Hearts our personal memories.
Surprisingly, perhaps, the Gospel for All Saints Sunday is the story of the raising of Lazarus. It's relatable and mysterious: one family’s loss, one life restored; but pointing to the one who leads us through life, beyond death to everlasting life. Today, we're invited to a grave in grief, remembrance, gratitude, and hope; but also invited to a bountiful kingdom - no lack, no tears.
Two words at the heart of the story which may resonate: “Jesus wept.”
The one who is God with us - weeps with us. The God who will destroy death, is consumed by grief; the one who will wipe away tears, allows tears to flow.
We might wonder why why the tears: when he’d stayed away, when onlookers suggest he could have prevented death; why the tears when joy is on the horizon. When he calls Lazarus from the stench of death and decay he’s also calling us to enter a new kingdom - a kingdom opened by his own death and resurrection. That is the hope, so why the tears?
Jesus wept: and gives space to our grief. He stands with Mary - and with Martha too. He comes alongside all those who loved Lazarus. His tears acknowledge that the loss of the life is to be mourned; that our grief can’t be rushed through. I wonder if part of the vocation of those called to be saints is to weep with those who weep?
Jesus wept: and names the reality of the death and grief, mourning and tears that we endure. Even though his presence at the graveside foreshadows the hope of new life, those new joys will be shot through with the feelings of sadness; shot through with a new awareness of how precious life is. What is about to happen changes things; it points to the reality that love wins; but tears acknowledge that life won’t be the same either. So I wonder if part of our calling as members of Christ's body, the call to be be saints, is to hold space for life and joy and love?
Jesus wept: and expresses our embodied humanity. Our faith is embodied too and it get reflected in our emotions and gestures. Martha articulates her disappointment, frustration and anger deep at Jesus’s delay; but she also listens, trusts in who he is and is open to his words. Her sister Mary kneels before Jesus - a posture of petition, prayer and entreaty; her body expressing trust even when her words are questioning. When Jesus comes to the grave, when he speaks to his heavenly Father of glory and belief, his face is still damp with tears. When he calls Lazarus’ name, it’s through tear stained eyes. Perhaps part of our vocation, as those called to be saints, is a concern for all of human nature - our mental, physical and emotional wellbeing - and to pray with love.
Jesus wept: and he takes another step on the journey to Jerusalem where he will take up his cross. Even now, as he speaks words of life, the hostility of some in authority is turning into calls for his death. He will lay down his life not only for Lazarus but for all he calls friends - there is no greater love than this. That love flows out in the abundance of wine at a wedding and in the bread broken and shared amongst many on a hillside; that love flows in the living water offered to a woman at a well and in the water poured over aching feet. That love flows when Jesus is lifted up on the cross to draw all people to Godself. For God so loved the world - with every fibre and breath and tear and ache. So I wonder if part of our callings as saints, as members of Christ's body is to love in this way - with vitality and intimacy, with generosity and sacrifice.
Jesus wept: and the fulfilment of Isaiah draws a little closer - as Lazarus is unbound, we glimpse the truth that in Jesus death will be swallowed up and shrouds will be destroyed.
Jesus wept: and the hope of Revelation draws a little closer - in him, the home of God is with mortals and all will be made new. We catch a foretaste of the ultimate reality - the one who weeps will wipe away every tear.
Perhaps part of the vocation of those called to be saints is to hold on to this hope - to turn it into a catalyst for change; to seek life and to plead for justice.
Image credit: Jesus Mafa project
Today, as we remember, All Saints and All Souls we do so with gratitude and hope, we mourn them and celebrate them. The tears we have shed over a lifetime are part of the process of grief and healing; but we also look to a time when tears will be no more.
Rainbows renew our trust in the hope of a new heaven and a new earth; a time when feasting replaces mourning; when God’s promise of love will be all in all. Hearts remind us of our loves and our sorrows, our tears and our pain; they remind us that we are human and that we long healing.
Through the lens of our scriptures, our own tears might move us with compassion to follow the saints in seeking God’s kingdom for our world needs the love that God commands. Yes, we are mortal, but we trust in a God who calls us to life. The one who weeps with us is the one who restores life.
© Julie Gittoes 2021
