This remembrance is personal. However, it is my hope that
my memories of Christmas may remind you of your own. Remember
a classic novel is set in a particular time and place, and deals with
particular people, yet it tells a universal story. WNG

Several years before my dad’s death we drove down east in late December to attend a family funeral. It was one of the last trips I made with my dad, just the two of us, and I really enjoyed it. We left Winston-Salem about lunch, drove to the little Eastern North Carolina town, attended the funeral at 4:00 p.m., greeted the few family members dad still remembered, and stopped for supper at burger joint. Then, as darkness fell, we pointed the car back up the road to Winston-Salem. The road was completely different after dark. On the way down, we drove through one little town that was so drab we hardly noticed it. On the way back, the same little town had switched on its Christmas lights, and it was transformed. We were treated to some of the most lavish and colorful decorations we had ever seen. As we passed through the business district, we saw numerous depictions of the Elves hard at work. There were snowmen, and snowflakes, and the reindeer leapt from corner to corner. Santa Claus himself occupied a place of honor in the main square. As we drove, dad delivered a running commentary on the abundance of beauty added to that drab little town by all the lights. Then, he stopped in mid-sentence, and said:

“Wait a minute, Worth! There is no nativity! They did not set out a single angel, shepherd or wiseman, not one, much less three; and the Holy Family has been left completely out. It is as if Jesus had never been born! I am afraid that this town has lost the true gift of Christmas in the wrappings.”

Then, always on the lookout for his next great sermon idea, Dad quickly added, “Worth, that would preach: ‘Don’t Loose the True Gift of Christmas in the Wrappings!’”

Now, please notice, that my dad did not say that the true gift of Christmas must be enjoyed without the wrappings, he simply said we should not loose the true gift of Christmas in the wrappings! At my house, when I was a boy, we always enjoyed the wrappings. For instance, we always put-up a Christmas tree, visited Santa Claus, exchanged gifts, and gathered for a big family meal.

As I look back on those days, I don’t remember Christmas tree lots like we have now. We may have had them, but in my family and neighborhood, either people put up an aluminum tree with colored lights, like the one in the window of Thalhimers on 4th Street, or they went out in the woods and cut a Christmas tree of their own. Dad used to know a farmer named John James, whose daughter, Virginia Barber, is still a member of this church. We used to go to the James’s farm, and Mr. James would hook his tractor to a tobacco sled, and my dad and I would climb in, and Mr. James would pull us all over his farm, until we spied just the right tree, always a cedar, and then dad would hop out with an ax, and, quick as a wink, or two, or three, or ten—-anyway pretty quick, we had a tree of our own to take home and decorate.

My mother made a big deal of decorating the tree. She had exactly five boxes of Christmas ornaments, each containing a dozen, single-color, glass, Christmas balls in gold, silver, red, green, and blue. We also had boxes of icicles made from tin foil that we bought at the drugstore. The icicles had to be tin foil, not tensile, because tensile was too light and did not hang properly. We did not have lights; but mom always popped pop-corn, and we would string a little of that, and eat a little of that, and string a little of that, until we could drape the tree with a garlands of white. My grandmother always used snow from an aerosol can on her tree, but mom would not permit it on ours. Dad bought a can one year, but mom pointed out that it said “Flammable,” right on the can, and she would not take the chance.

We had the wrappings. We had a Christmas tree, and I was permitted to visit Santa Claus, too. Back in the day, there may have been more than one department store Santa in Winston-Salem, but the only one I ever saw was in the Sears and Roebuck Store that was located on 4th Street, across from Modern Chevrolet. We usually parked dad’s 1953 Plymouth Suburban station-wagon in the lot on Four-and-a-Half Street, and entered the store through the upper entrance. I can still remember the smell of the hot nuts, fudge, and candies that wafted-up the those stairs to the parking lot as we walked down them. And I can still remember the long walk to the back of the store. We walked past the jewelry counter, and the toy department, and the housewares, and the hardware, and the garden supplies, and at last, there was Santa, seated on his elevated throne, usually at the end of a long line of kids my age. Most kids sat on his lap; but even as a youngster, I never did want to do that. I much preferred to keep my feet on the ground, shake-hands with the old gentleman, and speak to him face to face. I was always careful not to ask for too much, because, I knew, as my mother often told me, that Santa Claus had to keep something for the other children. When Clyde Manning proofed this sermon, she old me her mother simply told her and her sisters not to be greedy.

Santa was the bringer of gifts, but not the only bringer of gifts. My uncle Paul, my dad’s brother, usually brought a gift by for me, and my Aunt Ella Mae, my cousin Robert’s mother, always gave me something. Both Robert and I were deep into the cowboy life, and, I suppose, Aunt Ella Mae wanted her boys not to grow up to be cowboys. Anyway, one year, she surprised Robert and me with a different kind of gift. She put the matching gifts under the tree at Granny’s, and marked them “From Santa.” We were initially delighted to get something extra. Then we tore open the packages to discover a matching pair of dolls, both named, “Betsy Wetsy.” All of our aunts and uncles roared with laughter, and they kept laughing until tears streamed down their faces. The rest of that episode is a blank for me; but, several years ago, my cousin Robert sent me a picture of us holding those dolls. Both of us are dressed up as cowboys. His flashy little suit, complete with chaps and a vest, was embroidered with the name of “Hop Along Cassidy.” I am dressed more conservatively in a cowboy shirt, jeans, boots, and a black hat. Both of us are wearing a pair of chrome plated-pistols. He is clutching his Betsy Wetsy to his chest with a look of chagrin on his face. I am holding mine down by my side, either by a leg, or by the hair of her head, I don’t remember, and the look on my face is one of pure disdain. Today, a Betsy Wetsy will fetch quite a sum on eBay. Despite my shame I have been tempted to go on over to 10 West Devonshire, and sneak into my old back yard, and see if I can find the shallow grave where I put her after she met a tragic and violent end, on December the 26th, 1956.

When I was growing up, I received gifts, and I gave gifts. In those days, my mother always gave me enough money to buy my father a gift, and my father always gave me enough money to buy my mother a gift. Year after year, I bought mom a nice handkerchief, and I bought my dad a pretty nice tie. Then, one year, I saved up my allowance and went to the drugstore without supervision. I bought my dad a bottle of “Old Spice,” and my mother a bottle of “Midnight in Paris.” Interestingly enough, several years ago, when I had to empty my mom’s house, I found that empty bottle of “Midnight in Paris,” still in the original box.

I have to mention one more thing. The traditional Christmas family gathering. In those days, when I thought I would always be A member of the youngest generation, we went to my grandmother’s house for Christmas Dinner and there were no empty chairs. I was an only child, but I had five aunts and uncles, on my mother’s side alone, and more first cousins than I could reliably count. We had special guests, too. I particularly enjoyed the years that my dad brought an old bachelor preacher named J. George Brunner to eat with us. Dad always asked Mr. Brunner to say the blessing, we enjoyed his blessings, because they were like a preview of good things to come. He always took time to thank God for every single item on the heavily laden table, one at a time, “O Lord,” he prayed, “Thank you for the turkey and dressing, and for the ham with pineapple slices and cherries, and for the green-beans, and for the mashed potatoes with lumps in them, and for real butter, and for the coconut cake, and the chocolate fudge tunnel cake….” His prayer went on much longer, for the feast was abundant and diverse, but you get the picture.

When I was growing up, our Christmas never lacked for wrapping! However, there was no danger that we would loose the true gift of Christmas in that wrapping.

Take the songs we sang. I don’t remember that we ever sang “Jingle-Bells,” but it seems like we were aways singing carols like, “Away in a Manger,” “Joy to the World,” and “Silent Night.” Indeed, my first solo was part of a trio. Steve Calloway, Lenny Canada and I played the Three Wisemen, and we sang, “We Three Kings of Orient Are.”

I told you that we did not have lights on our Christmas tree; but we always had them at the Christmas Eve Candlelight Lovefeast. I always loved it when the preacher, always my dad, held up his candle and told us how Jesus had said, “I am the Light of the World.” And then he would invite us to lift up our candels says, “And Jesus said, ‘You are the light of the world…’”

Then there was Christmas morning. In those days, we always had gifts under the tree; but we never opened them until dad took down his big Thompson Chain Reference Bible, in the King James Version, and read the Christmas Story. He had read it the night before, at the lovefeast, but he always read it a second time, just for our family.

More than sixty years have come and gone since my first Christmases. John James’s farm is a golf course, and Granny and Pop are gone, and dad is gone, and most of my aunts and uncles are gone. Even one of my cousins is gone. Others who have lived as long as I have have even more vacant seats around the Christmas table. However, despite all these changes, for some of us, hopefully for most of us, the true Gift of Christmas is still as longed for, appreciated, and treasured, as it ever was. For though we know we can never return to those long ago Christmases of yesteryear, the True Gift of Christmas continues to give us hope, for today and tomorrow. As we grow older we see that night is coming, but beyond the night, there is a light that shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. This makes us bold to believe that we are moving toward a future that is even more special than our past, a future in which every person we have loved and lost, has some part to play, and the part they play, and the part we play, will never be diminished. That hope is possible, because the true gift of Christmas, the child of Bethlehem, grew-up to become not just a man, but the Man, the Son of Man and Son of God who showed us the Father by showing us Himself. Then he died for our sins, and rose again to give us a future and a hope that is beyond our wildest expectations. My dad always read the Christmas story from Luke chapter two, twice, on Christmas Eve, and again on Christmas Day. The rest of the year, he often used a different version of the Christmas story. It is found in John 3;16. Do you know it?

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that 
whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

Finis

Worth Green, Th.M., D.Min.

I am planning a short series on “Times and Seasons,” and this morning I want to talk to you about time. The young live with the myth that they have unlimited time. All mature human beings know that we have limited time available to us. Psalm 90 declares that:

The days of our life are seventy years,
or perhaps eighty, if we are strong;

In speaking of seventy or eighty years, the Psalmist is talking about what we might call a normal life, lived chapter by chapter through birth, childhood, adolescence, adulthood, old age, ups, downs, illness, and death. Some people do not have a normal life. Children die of childhood diseases; teenagers and young adults die in accidents they thought could not happen to them; men and women who have barely achieved middle-age die from from various causes, often through no fault of their own. When people die before their time, we say that their lives are like an unfinished symphony, or a painting that has been put away before all the details of it have been drawn-in and properly colored. We are sad, but we know, too, that they have had their time. Their time is past, and it will not come again.

We fear death, but the ancients were terrorized by something worse. They were terrorized by the endless cycle of existence. They thought no event, and no life was unique, but each repeated itself endlessly, like the sun that rises and sets, and the season that recur year after year. According to Thomas Cahill, the idea of time with a beginning, a moveable middle that some have called “the eternal now,” and an end is one of the gifts of the Jews. The idea is rooted in the God who has created, sustains, and will perfect the whole created order as we know it. Christians say that the history of salvation has a similar movement. The center of salvation history past was Christ on his cross, his body, broken for us, and then, Christ, risen from the dead, his ressurection the sign of his vindication before God, and the guarantee of the new life beyond the bounds of time, for all those who have faith in him. The center of salvation history present is the Holy Spirit, at work in the world, at work in our lives, enabling us to believe in Jesus Christ, and calling us into the church, which is Christ’s body in the world; and then sending us back out into the world, to be Christ’s hands and feet, always busy, until he comes. The center of salvation future is Christ coming back for his church on earth, or, our being called home to him in death, which are but two-sides of the same coin. Either event brings to an end time as we know it personally.

The gospel lesson from Matthew 25 fits nicely into this understanding of time and salvation history. Jesus told the parable about a Master and his servants, but the parable is obviously about Jesus and his disciples. Do not overlook how Jesus says, “It will be.” In saying, “It will be,” Jesus is speaking of a future time when he will no longer be with his disciples, bodily, and they will be left alone to serve him in his absence. Jesus said “it will be as when a Master was going on a journey.” The Master called his his servants to him, and entrusted to them his property. To one he gave five talents, to another two talents, to another one. He gave to each according to his ability. Then the Master went away. The five talent man went “at once”, don’t over look the phrase, “at once,” and traded with his five talents. He made five talents more. The two talent man also went, though perhaps not so quickly, and made two talents more. The one talent man was not so bold. Knowing his Master to be a hard man, who sometimes took what was not necessarily his to take, he went and hid the one talent the Master had entrusted to him in the ground. When the Master returned, he asked his servants for an accounting. He was pleased with the work of the five talent man, and with the work of the two talent man. He praised each of them using the same words and saying:

Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a little, I will set you over much; enter into the joy of your master.

Then the Master heard the report of the one talent man. He was very disappointed. He said:

You wicked and slothful servant! By your own confession, you knew that I reap where I have not sowed, and gather where I have not winnowed. So why didn’t you invest my money with the bankers, so that, at my coming, I could have received what was my own with interest?

Then the Master ordered the man’s one talent be taken from him, and given to the man who had ten talents; and he ordered the worthless servant himself be cast into outer darkness, where men will weep and gnash their teeth. Do not jump the the conclusion that this “outer darkness” is hell and nothing but. In this case, the “weeping and gnashing of teeth” may also be associated with the regret we experience when we realize we have wasted our time and opportunity. What did the poet, John Greenleaf Whittier say:

Of all the sad words of tongue and pen,
The saddest are these, “It might have been.”

And perhaps you will recall the name of Horace Mann the great 19th Century American educator and politician who promoted universal public education . It was Mann who wrote:

Lost – yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty, diamond-studded minutes. No reward is offered, for they are gone forever.

In his book, “Today Matters,” John C. Maxwell, tries to communicate the value of the time we thoughtlessly waste. It was Maxwell who wrote:

To know the value of one year… ask the student who failed the final exam. To know the value of one month… ask the mother of a baby born a month too soon (Who must wait to bring it home.)To know the value of one week… ask the editor of a weekly newsmagazine. To know the value of one day… ask the wage earner who has six children.To know the value of one hour… ask the lovers who are waiting to meet. To know the value of one minute… ask the person who missed the plane. To know the value of one second… ask the person who survived the accident. To know the value of one millisecond… ask the Olympic silver medalist.

No wonder Jesus encouraged his disciples not to waste the time available to them. In John 4:35 Jesus said: “Do not say, ‘There are yet four months, then comes the harvest.’ I tell you, lift up your eyes, and see how the fields are already white for harvest.”

We Christians do not compete for the silver, nor do we compete for the gold. We do not even compete against each other. We compete against the relentlessness of time. And we compete simply to hear the word of the Lord:“Well done, good and faithful servant, you have been faithful in a little, I will set you over much; enter into the Joy of your Master.”

Now, if we know that time is precious, how then should we live?

First, we must let go the past, all of it. In Philippians 3:13 St. Paul wrote:

This one thing I do, forgetting what lies behind, and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal of the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

We certainly need to let go of our sins and failures. Too many of us sit around trapped by our past, reciting the liturgy of “woulda, shoulda, coulda.” As Christians, we must remember our sins and failures, so that we can use that knowledge, but we must remember them as if they happened to somebody else. In 1st Peter 2:24 the apostle writes that “(Jesus) himself bore our sins in his body on the tree.” When we give our sins and failures to him, we are free as never before.

We also need to let go of our successes. Billy Graham said that God will not take our sins and failures and unless we also give God our successes. Too many people sit around reliving our “glory days,” when God wants us to live in the now. It may be that God wants to say to us what Robert Burn’s Rabbi Ben Ezra said to his wife: “Come grow old with me; the best is yet to be.” It occurs to me that is exactly what God said to Abraham and Sarah, who were the Father (and Mother?) of all who have faith. Many of you will remember the name of Lib Green. You will not be surprised to remember that Lib and her husband Gene lived long and full lives, dedicating much of it to God’s work at New Philadelphia. It may surprise you to learn that, in 2017, thanks to an annuity that Lib set up before her death, she was our single largest donor. It may be so for years to come.

Second, we must bloom where we are planted, and make the most of the opportunities we have. God holds us responsible only for the time, talent, treasure and opportunities he has entrusted to us. God does not hold us responsible for the time, talent, treasure and opportunities God has entrusted to others. If you think you could handle more responsibility than you have before you right now, blessed are you. All you have to do is prove yourself faithful over a little, and God may give you the opportunity to be faithful over much.

Third, we must follow a plan. That plan is a lot simpler than most people imagine. In Ephesians 2:10, the apostle said that “God has created us in Christ for good works that we might walk in them.” John Wesley spelled this out for the early Methodists saying:

Do all the good you can; by all the means you can; in all the ways you can; in all the places you can; at all the times you can; to all the people you can; as long as ever you can.

That is about perfect! I would add only, that you should do good “as soon as you can.” Not only is time our most precious commodity, but many good intentions have died in delay.

Fourth, once we have put the plan into action, me must not give up! The best advice I ever received was from a dying man. He called me to himself and said, “Worth, never give up, never give up, never give up.” As I have grown older, and as I have piled up almost thirty years doing one task in this one place, I have come to think that Galatians 6:9 may important counsel believers can ever receive. Therein St. Paul writes, “And let us not grow weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap, if we do not lose heart.” (In the Bible the heart is the seat of the mind, emotions and will!)

Fifth, take a long view. Human beings have a life of very limited duration. It maybe that God has called us to start something that God will call upon someone else to finish. St. Paul understood this. In 1st Corinthians 3:6 he wrote, “I planted, and the preacher who came after me, Apollos, watered; but it was God who gave the growth.” As I have drawn nearer to the time of my own retirement, the long view has become more and more precious to me. I am confident that someone will join you to continue the work that we have done, and I hope and pray that together you will do more and more. I am not yet ready to retire, but at 68 I am certainly thinking about it. I was thinking about it this on Saturday as I finished my walk. I went by the front desk at the downtown YMCA. As I passed by, looked at the jar of inspirational sayings and Bible verses they keep at the desk, and I spotted a one green slip of paper down deep in the jar. It was the only green slip I saw. Since my name is Green, I thought it must be for me, so fished it out. It was from 1st Corinthians 3:7: “Neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but God who gives the growth.” Some people would call that coincidence. I wonder what the mathematical odds of that would be? And what about this? The New Testament text for Sunday, November 19 was also 1st Corinthians 3:7! Coincidence? It is hard for me to think that.

So, in conclusion, only one question need be answered: “When do we start ?” Well, according to Jesus, the five talent man went “at once,” to trade with his money. And in 2nd Corinthians 6:2 St. Paul gives us good advice when he quotes the prophet, who speaks for God, saying:

At the acceptable time I have listened to you, and helped you on the day of salvation. Behold, now is the acceptable time; behold, today is the day of salvation.

With this in mind let us do all the good we can; by all the means we can; in all the ways we can; in all the places we can; at all the times we can; to all the people we can; as long as ever we can. And let us begin, as soon as we can. Let us begin today. What are your options?

Finis

Worth Green, Th.M., D.Min.

All Saints Sermon – November 5, 2017 – Rev. Joe Moore

New Philadelphia Moravian Church

Today we are celebrating All Saints Day. Admittedly, it’s not one of the big church festivals. It is certainly below Christmas and Easter, and even Pentecost and Epiphany. It’s not one of the ones that everyone wants to be in church to commemorate. While we all know plenty of Christmas and Easter Christians, who only attend on those days, I doubt that there are any All Saints Day Christians. It’s just not that big of a deal. Actually today isn’t even All Saints Day. It was this past Wednesday and being on November 1, it gets further lost in the excitement about Halloween. It’s kind of funny that we make such a big deal about Halloween and almost totally ignore All Saints Day. It’s like making a big deal about Christmas Eve and completely ignoring Christmas Day

Regardless, All Saint’s Day is one of those church festivals that is overlooked, especially in Protestant churches. I guess it’s because the idea of “saints” is so closely associated with the Roman Catholic Church. It can’t have been a coincidence that Martin Luther chose October 31, the day before All Saints Day, to post his Ninety-Five Theses on the door of All Saints Church in Wittenburg Germany. One of the things that Luther was protesting was the sale of indulgences, which was the practice of purchasing forgiveness of sins. All Saints Church also offered indulgences for those who would come and “venerate” the relics of the saints, or in other words, show honor to the relics of the saints. Saints were symbolic of the things the Luther was protesting. Since the very beginning, saints and Protestantism don’t really go together.

And the Moravian Church doesn’t really “do” saints either. It’s likely because Jan Hus preceded Martin Luther in the condemning of indulgences by almost 100 years that we don’t have saints in the Moravian Church. But if we did, we could probably all easily name at least three of them. Jan Hus would be the first, followed by Jan Amos Comenius and Nicholas Ludwig von Zinzendorf.

But even though they are the “Big Three” of Moravian history, we don’t consider them to be saints. On July 6, we remember the martyrdom of Hus but we don’t think of him as St. Jan Hus. So why are we celebrating All Saints Day? Why do we have an All Saints liturgy in our hymnal? And it’s not something new in the blue hymnal. It’s there in the red hymnal and, going even further back, it’s in the old black hymnal as well. And it is almost the same in all three hymnals.

All Saints Day is obviously significant in the Moravian Church, even though we don’t have official saints and we rarely make a big deal about it. It seems like we get kind of hung up on the second word “saints” and forget about the first word “all”. But we shouldn’t. Because it isn’t just “Officially Recognized Saints Day” or “Some Saints Day” it’s “ALL Saints Day” and the difference is important. All Saints Day isn’t only the celebration of people like St. Francis or St. Augustine or St. Joan of Arc. It isn’t simply celebrating those people who have been canonized or are seen as exceptionally holy or close to God, like Hus or Comenius or Zinzendorf.  It isn’t reserved for those who have been martyred or killed for their faith.  All Saints Day is about celebrating ALL the saints. Including the not so saintly Saints, including our personal saints, including the broken saints.

All Saints Day is when we have to pay attention to the 2 churches. No, not the Catholic and Protestant churches. But the church above and the church below, the church on earth and the church in heaven. Both are filled with the saints. The scripture that we read in Revelation is about the church above. It is the Church Triumphant, the “great multitude that no one can count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages.” It is the church that is filled with saints- Peter and Paul, Francis and Augustine and Joan of Arc, Hus and Comenius and Zinzendorf. It is the church of those who have suffered for their faith, who have been killed for their faith. The church of those who are holy and special and “saintly.”  This is the Kingdom of Heaven.

This passage from Revelation paints a beautiful picture of what heaven is like. And notice that I say it is what heaven is “like” as opposed to what heaven “is”. One of the things that the Bible strives to do is to put ideas and concepts that are beyond our human understanding into language and images that we can understand. So while the description of the Kingdom of Heaven is true, it is not necessarily exact or precise or literal. What this depiction of the Kingdom of Heaven describes is a state of being in the continual presence and under the constant care of God, the one who sits on the throne, and of the Lamb. The Kingdom of Heaven is the place the saints end up, after they have come out of the great ordeal.

That phrase “the great ordeal” makes it sound like the Kingdom of Heaven is only for those “true saints”; the ones of whom the world was not worthy. They deserve to be in the continual presence of God after having spent their earthly lives wandering in deserts and mountains, in caves and the holes in the ground. They are worthy of the constant care of the Lamb after having been stoned to death, sawn in two, slain with the sword, burned at the stake, killed by an assassin’s bullet. They get to be forever in the shelter of God after having spent their lives destitute, persecuted, and tormented. They have come out of great tribulation and been washed in the blood of the Lamb. They gave their lives for their faith and now they are receiving their reward. They have truly earned the title of “Saint”- whether official or unofficial. Today we celebrate them, we celebrate the “Saintly Saints”.

Dwelling with the “Saintly Saints” in the kingdom of Heaven, the other members of the Church Triumphant,  are what I like to call our personal saints. These are those who we knew and loved and lost. Our personal saints are those who guided our lives and informed our faith. They are the ones who helped bring the Kingdom of Heaven to earth, at least for us. They showed us what it was like to love God with our heart and soul and strength and mind. They are the ones who showed us how to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. They are likely the ones who showed us how to love ourselves, because they loved us when we couldn’t love ourselves.

We all have our “personal Saints.” I’m sure that we are thinking of them right now, remembering their names and the impact they had on our lives. For that they are Saints. They may not have been as holy as the “saintly Saints”, they may not have given their lives for their faith. They may have been flawed and sinful and human and broken. But they too have earned their sainthood. They are worthy of being in the Church Triumphant, they are part of the kingdom of heaven. They deserve to be in the constant presence of God, receiving the continual care of the Lamb, in whose blood they have been washed. Along with the “Saintly Saints” our personal Saints are now in the place where they will neither hunger nor thirst anymore, where the sun and it’s scorching heat will not strike them. On this day we celebrate our Personal Saints.  

And on this All Saints Day, we celebrate the broken saints, too. This is where we move from heaven to earth, from the Church Triumphant to the Church Militant. Honestly, I don’t really like that term “the Church Militant” because hearing it conjures to mind images of the church as being engaged in war, of Christianity being a battle or a fight that can only be won be overcoming, overpowering it’s opponents. And that is certainly not what Jesus did and it is certainly not what Jesus taught, as we heard in the Matthew passage. But we will take a closer look at that in a few minutes. In the context of the church, the Church Militant is used to signify the church on earth, the church that is still struggling with sin, with darkness, with evil. Not necessarily battling but definitely struggling. This is the church of the Broken Saints, this is our church. This is us.

We have trouble thinking of ourselves as “saints”. We almost exclusively think of saints as being holy and perfect and special. And we know that we aren’t holy, we are far from perfect, and we don’t see ourselves as special. We know that we are broken. While it may not be easy to see ourselves as saints, it is too easy to see how we are broken.

We see our brokenness every time we hurt someone else with our words or actions. We see our brokenness every time we hurt ourselves with our thoughts or words or actions. We see our brokenness every time we hurt God with our thoughts or words or actions, every time we sin and fall short of God’s glory. We do these things, we see how broken we are, and we just know that we can’t be considered “saints”.

Yet we are. We are saints, even when we are feeling our most sinful, when we are feeling downright unholy, when we are at our most broken. Because saints aren’t born. Saints are made. Peter and Paul, Francis and Augustine and Joan of Arc, Hus and Comenius and Zinzendorf, none of them were born holy, or perfect, or saintly. They all had their sins and their flaws. They were all broken. But we know them and see them as saints. Because they didn’t let their brokenness stop them. They didn’t let their brokenness prevent their blessedness.

They persevered in their faith despite being persecuted and reviled. They did what God called them to do and lived as peacemakers in a world that glorifies war. They did what God called them to do and showed mercy in a world that thirsts for vengeance. They were who God created them to be and hungered and thirsted for righteousness among people who celebrated sinfulness. They were who God created them to be and were meek in a world that values assertiveness. And by doing what God called them to do and being who God created them to be, they were blessed. And they became saints, they were made saints. Despite their brokenness. Or really, because of their brokenness.

You see, saints are saints, not because they are perfect, but because they know that they are not. They recognize that they are broken. They know that they need God. And they rely on God to enable them to do what God is calling them to do, they rely on God to help them become who God has created them to be.

When we recognize our brokenness, when we know how much help we need, and we rely on God to make us whole, to help us get through our lives, we have taken our first steps into sainthood. We know that we can’t do it alone, yet we also know that we must do it- we must live in this world that is so opposite of the world that we want it to be, that God created it to be.

The world that Jesus describes in his Sermon on the Mount is not the world as it is, it is the world that God as God wants it to be, as God intends it to be, as God created it to be. And it is the opposite of the world as it is. So we rely on God to help us live in it as the people God created us to be- God’s beloved children. We rely on God to help us make this world the world that God created it to be- a world where the poor, the mourning, the meek are not only blessed but where they know that they are blessed.

That’s what Saints do, they help others to see their blessedness. They help others to see God. They help others to know God. Saints are those who help others be who God created them to be and who help the world to be the place that God has created it to be. Saints are those who don’t allow their sinfulness and their brokenness to prevent them from striving to unite the kingdom of earth with the kingdom of heaven.

Today we celebrate ALL the saints- the ones in heaven and the ones on earth. The ones who have gone and the ones who are still with us, the ones who have shown us the way and helped us on our journey to God. So let us be thankful for those Saints. And let us not forget that we too are called to be Saints, let us not forget that we too ARE Saints- as sinful as we may be, as broken as we are, we are Saints. So let us strive to love each other as God loves us, let us strive to forgive each other as God forgives us, let us strive to be the Saints that we are as we show each other the way to God and as we show the world who God is and what it means to live as God’s beloved children. Let us strive to be the Saints who bring together the kingdoms of earth and heaven. If it’s not us, then who will it be?