Sermon – 2 November 2008
Sermon preached by The Rev. Fredrick A. Robinson
The Church of the Redeemer
The Sunday after All Saints’ Day
“The saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one, too.” You sing that hymn beautifully. You obviously know it well and you sing it as if you like it. I like it, too!
It is really a fairly unusual hymn. I call it a hymn, but it is better termed a spiritual song, because it is quite different from what we usually call a hymn. Think about the majestic hymns of the Church—“Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty,” “O God, our Help in Ages Past,” “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty,” and so on. These hymns are all addressed to God, praising him, extolling his majesty and mercy, confessing those attributes of God which he has revealed to us.
“I Sing a Song of the Saints of God,” as the first line states, is not primarily about God at all, but about his saints. And if you look a little closer, it is very personal. It is about whatever person sings it! “The saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one, too!”
Did you think about it when you sang it? Did you really mean it? Do you want to be a saint? Or is that just something we think about in church, and when we get out into the “real world” we’re content simply to be as good as the next guy, if we think about goodness at all? Or perhaps sainthood is something we expect from others, from our wives, our husbands, our bosses, our employees, our children, our parents, but not from ourselves? Perhaps we should have sung, “And I mean for you to be one, too!”
“I mean to be a saint is essentially what you and I said at our baptism, or what was said on our behalf. We renounced Satan and all of the spiritual forces that rebel against God. We renounced all sinful desires that draw us from the love of God. That’s not speaking simply of lust, but of greed, of power, of envy. We renounced the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God, recognizing that there are people and institutions that are truly evil, whose purpose is diametrically opposed to Christian faith and life, even though that purpose is almost never stated or acknowledged. We confessed Christ as Lord of our life, putting all of our trust in him.
Then we stated our belief through the words of the Apostles’ Creed and committed ourselves to the worship, teaching, and fellowship of the Church, to serving the needy, to confessing our sins, to spreading the Gospel, and to working for justice and peace. For many of you, that was promised on your behalf, when you were infants, but you accepted these beliefs and vows for your own at your confirmation. These vows, which I am sure you will agree are quite demanding, are for the purpose of preparing us, training us, to be saints. As I learned during my own confirmation training, the goal of the Christian is to be a saint.
“Alright,” you may be saying to yourself, “that’s all well and good, but what does striving to become a saint look like when you’re talking about how to live day by day?” I have a theory, based not only on my own experience, but also on my observations of others. My theory is this: First of all, it is important to do the things of faith when everything seems to be going relatively well. It’s important to pray regularly, to receive the Sacrament at least every Sunday; to read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest Holy Scripture; to give as much as we can of our time, talent, and money to the Church. It may not seem like we’re doing anything extraordinary. It may not be very exciting, and there may be any number of things we would prefer to do at any given time, but it is important to have that spiritual discipline, because we’re building a foundation in the good times that will support us in the stormy times.
Secondly, I am convinced that it is the stormy times in our lives that push us toward or away from saintliness. How we choose to deal with the crises of life determines whether or not we are becoming the persons God created us to be. When I look back on my life thus far, it was the difficulties I encountered that caused me to grow. Sometimes I dealt well with those difficulties and sometimes not! I am still a work in progress, but it is the problems that confront me, as unpleasant as they may be, that test my faith and challenge me to grow.
While I have painted a picture of life that assumes there are periods of calm and periods that are stormy, and while that may be relatively true, I suspect that most of us have some difficulty going on most of the time, so this working on saintliness can be pretty much a daily exercise.
Our Lord gives us many tools to deal with those difficulties and to push us toward saintliness. “When someone strikes you on the cheek, turn to him the other as well.” “Forgive a person as many as 70 times 7.” “Do not judge others.” Several of the beatitudes deal with human problems on at least a couple of levels. “Blessed are the poor…blessed are the merciful…blessed are the peacemakers…blessed are those who are persecuted for Jesus’ sake.” These all deal with crises and whether or not we choose to be merciful, to be peacemakers, to turn the other cheek, determines not only whether we will become better, more fulfilled human beings, but also more Christlike, pushing us further toward our goal of saintliness.
We remember and give thanks for the saints of old because of the support they give to us in this fellowship of love and prayer and because their example encourages us to do likewise, “for the saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one, too!”
