All Saints Day

Wisdom of Solomon 3:1-9; Psalm 24; Revelation 21:6a; John 11:32-44

November 1, 2009

 

Haven’t the leaves this past week been beautiful?

I got to hike the Panther Creek trail a couple of days ago

and what a perfect day to walk along that path!

We’d be going along and would all of a sudden would see in front of us

a solid blanket of ruby red leaves

that had fallen from the tree above and settled on the trail.

Then, in another spot there would be a carpet of gold.

Later, bright yellow; then, deep rust.

All providing a lovely layer for us to walk on

over that muddy rain-soaked trail.

 

In my imagining I couldn’t help but get the feeling

of the path as having been especially prepared.

Maybe it’s like a fellow gallantly spreading his cloak across a puddle

for the lady to walk across.

I’ve heard of this but I’ve never seen it.

Perhaps it’s like the branches that the crowds spread out on the road

as Jesus entered Jerusalem.

Or, the rose petals scattered on the aisle where the bride will walk.

There is something of celebration and honor in someone’s path being adorned.

 

And, yet, when you step back and think about it, it’s simply autumn.

This is the time of year when leaves have aged,

lost the life that makes them green,

and they die and fall to the ground.

To everything there is a season.

 

This past week, Heather Murray’s grandmother died.

Her name was Gladys McCoy.

Gladys was 85 years old and she had spent the last three years of her life

unable to care for herself and unaware

of those around her whom she had loved so much.

While the family certainly is grieving

and holding on to the rich memories of this woman’s life,

they are able to express that her death was ‘in season.’

Like the leaves outside brightly covering the ground,

her death was a natural part of her living.

 

But, if we think also of little ten-year-old Katie Seaman, who died last week,

well, we don’t feel the natural rhythm of life taking place.

Katie’s illness and death were out of season.

It makes me picture a tree with bright young green leaves in April.

And you look up and see in all that new growth,

one, only one lone leaf, turning color, and falling to the ground.

And we say, that just shouldn’t happen.

We may try to make sense of it, but we can’t.

 

It seems that Lazarus’ death also occurred out of season.

We’re not told that he was an older infirm man.

We’re not told of a long illness.

Lazarus’ life seems to have taken a turn for the worse

in just a matter of days.

An accident?

A heart attack?

Whatever it was, his illness seems sudden.

His sisters and friends - frantic, racing against time to get help.

 

The sisters’ reaction is exactly how we would feel.

They tried everything they could to save their brother

in the short amount of time they had.

Jesus was their very, very close friend.

It’s like having the best surgeon in town in your own family.

You call him to come and save the life of a family member

and he decides to stay a couple more days at the conference he’s attending.

They send for Jesus, count the minutes waiting for him to arrive.

But he doesn’t.

And Lazarus dies.

 

Why did Jesus tarry in this emergency,

he, the one they knew could heal the sick?

Lazarus is referred to as he whom Jesus loves.

He loves Martha, Mary, and Lazarus.

When he finally is approaching the village of Bethany,

Martha, and then Mary and those who were mourning with her,

come out to meet him.

And we get the sense of reunion and love between them

as they meet on that road and let their hearts and tears overflow.

And Jesus’ heart aches with them and he weeps and mourns with them.

But, why, why on earth did he wait for Lazarus to die?

 

Such deep love and such deep suffering they shared

at the death of their brother and friend.

Suffering comes when a loved one dies.

Suffering also comes when life gets out of control

and we are so helpless to do anything about it.

We lose control when an accident happens or an illness suddenly attacks.

We lose control when we have a solution, and we can’t make it happen.

And going through the death of a loved one

leaves us feeling as though everything in our life

has lost control and fallen off its axis.

 

But, great suffering and great love are often our best teachers

Great love compels us to risk everything.

Deep suffering wears us down until we give up control.

We simply, helplessly ‘let go and let God.’

And it is those moments in our lives,

when we lose hold of our own ideas of how to love and how to keep control

that we open up to the love God has for us

and the suffering God shares with us.

And I wonder if the great love and suffering that they went through

when Lazarus was in the tomb two days before Jesus arrived

wasn’t a gift that made them more open to understand…

 

To understand the real presence of God here and now.

To understand the life that could come out of great love and great suffering.

To understand the life that would come out of Jesus’

great love and great suffering on the cross.

 

There is something essential to draw out of

this miracle of the raising of Lazarus.

 

When Lazarus made his way out of the tomb and into the light of day,

all who witnessed it got a glimpse, maybe more than that, a flash!

of risen life, eternal life, God life, that Jesus offers.

We don’t have to wait until the end of our life

or the end of the age to experience

the larger love of God streaming into our lives.

 

“I am resurrection and I am life.”

You can be alive to God whether you are living or dead.

The power and goodness of God can be actual and present to us

now while we are alive.

In Jesus’ prayer to the Father [17:3] he says:

This is life eternal that they might know you, the only true God,

and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.

 

Along Panther Creek, there were leaves falling in their season.

And there was rushing water below

and trees high above.

And there was wind and there was quiet.

And beneath my feet there was the ground

where the leaves would begin to belong.

The place was tingling with life -

a larger life in which all was alive.

And isn’t nature such a mirror of the creator?

It is in that larger eternal love that we are alive in Christ,

alive to each other,

and alive with those who have left this life.

I’m grateful for this All Saints day

when we remember all the saints

and make present the names of loved ones who have died this year.

For we are alive with them and as they join us when we sing, “Holy, holy, holy”

we know that we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses.