Communion of the Saints (that someday thin places might stay thin)

As we gather once again on this All Saints Sunday, we see the light of these candles and it reminds us of saints not only from this congregation but who have touched our lives. Those God has given us across time. They are on our minds today. Perhaps today more than ever we sense that presence of the communion of the saints. Today we hear words from Revelation, this last book in Scripture intended to be words of hope. At every funeral I preside over I read words from the book of Revelation and say that they are intended to be words of hope and at least half of the faces crinkle up like that is a strange statement. So many are caught up in things like imagining Armageddon, and the Rapture and who’s left behind and who will be in hell. But what we are really given is saints around the throne of God whose struggles are no more. Tears are wiped away and we’re drawn to God.

The Celtic people in Ireland speak of “thin places”- places where worlds come together- the world here and the world beyond. The barriers we normally experience are not there. There are sacred spaces where you can get that sense. There are also events that function that way and for me All Saint’s Sunday feels like that. Being drawn close to God and a longing to be together when all the struggles are done and all the tears are wiped away. And there’s a moment- that’s communion of the saints. Perhaps you experience it this day as well.

I think that’s what we experience at funerals- the thin place where people come who haven’t been here in a while, drawn closer not only by a life lived for which we give thanks to God, but often a time where people speak of a closer sense of God and what the church means- at least for a moment. We forget the things in life our loved one did that weren’t the best- they fall away and we remember the good of people and community. If only those thin places could stay thin and continue to be communion of the saints.

Yesterday I attended the funeral of a colleague, Sadie, who fought the good fight with cancer and we celebrated her life’s work, in particular, her commitment to criminal justice system ministry. Something I know some of you are connected to in different ways. Most recently she worked as a chaplain at a state correctional facility in Camp Hill where she labored tirelessly. But a mentor said she once called him with a question, in the midst of her labors, she aske- “why did some people respond to God and to help and others did not?"

Her mentor suggested that maybe some people are just broken beyond the point of being helped- their souls are just too broken. And at this point Sadie just laughed at him and said,” Why on earth would God give anyone a permanently broken soul?!” Why indeed.

And for her this was, I believe,  the vision of communion with God and the saints- a place much broader than our vision. A place where the thin place stayed thin.

That’s what Revelation points to this day. That’s what we say each week in our Creed- that the vision John speaks of is so different. The multitude around the throne- different languages, and races and lives lived- all there.

And it’s so captivating he doesn’t even stop to wonder- why are THOSE people there? He’s in awe of what God is doing, calling us all children of God with a place. It’s not about us and “our” beloved- it’s about God who God loves.

And the number continues to grow and grow and the communion gets ever larger because there are no permanently broken souls beyond help-truly. Communion of the saints means we are given this privilege by God. And we are given a purpose.

We are given this vision and we are given words of faith that include saying we believe in this communion of the saints. The words we say in our Creed- our statement of faith. After speaking of God our Creator, and Christ our Redeemer, and the power and work of the Spirit, we say more. That we believe the church is holy- may it be holy when we are here. We say is it catholic- which is a way of saying united and we say we believe in the communion of the saints. That we are in communion with God in Christ and with the saints who have died and for whom God’s promises are made known. And we are in communion here and now-we are each of us, saints. Sinners to be sure, but also saints claimed as God’s children in our baptism. Given communion- a community, and a promise and a purpose. This too is communion of the saints.

Which is why it makes complete sense that after the funeral of a saint committed to criminal justice ministry, I was meeting with a family whose lives are in another part of the system as their son works and indeed labors to make changes and to be reunited with his loved ones.

I asked him what keeps him focused and helps his work and he of course mentioned his family. But the first word was “God.” And he shared with me that he keeps a tiny Bible in his pocket because it reminds him that God is always with him. And he thinks of his family and of this church. And then he shared the work of one of our saints here who, on her own had asked for his address and without waiting to be asked or seeing if anyone else was doing so, sent him a card and a care package. He was in awe, and I was too.

He received a card of encouragement and support and candy that he could share. Candy that helped him make friends with other boys there- and I imagine them all around that box sharing- and while some might look at them and see a group of sinners- God saw communion of the saints.

The gathering of those in this life around God and community is what we are given now to give us hope. Because in this life we labor and struggle, all of us. But God in Christ Jesus gives us communion and community- may it be what we sense each time we are here. Until that day when the thin places stay thin. We’re given these things so we too can be in awe of what God is doing right now and to not rest until everyone knows it.

Yesterday's funeral message

As you can see by looking around today, the church is still in full Christmas regalia which is exactly what Dodson would have wanted. He adored the season of Christmas! And I suspect that he as a lifelong educator would delight in the tree at the back of the church decorated with ornaments made by kids in our afterschool program who went through a whole lot of glitter and glue. I only met Dodson within the last couple of years as the new pastor here, but one of the first things I noticed when I first met him was the notebook. A small and well-worn spiral notebook that contained the titles of all the books he had read throughout his professional life, recorded by year.

He proudly showed me the notebook and we had a conversation about what he had read recently. And he allowed me the liberty of paging through the sheaves of paper that had gone before. Always learning, always sharing.

I got a sense as I often do, that here was a man I wish I had known better and sooner. I know that sounds almost like a cliché throwaway line, but in sincerity and especially with Dodson, it is most certainly true. Susan’s sweeping words soar in his obituary, a snapshot of his life and witness, both personally and professionally. And knowing he was a man who traveled the world to learn and share, we placed several of our global nativity scenes up front, including this one on the pulpit with me, from Peru, belonging to one of the members of the Bible Class he loved so well.

At first when Susan and I got together after her Dad’s death so much of what was on my mind was about Dodson and Louise together, for to speak of one almost necessitates speaking of the other. But then as we spoke more specifically about Dodson, one of the things I learned was his love and regard for Abraham Lincoln.

With that, and based upon Dodson’s love of books, it is today with a wry smile that I know how I could have become a good friend. Lincoln had the answer, once noting that “My best friend is the man who will get me a book that I haven’t read.”  

As a history aficionado, I can see many parallels between these two men. Challenging beginnings, success by endeavor, the capacity to bond with and influence people while maintaining a moral compass.

And also a wry sense of humor and a life story that includes living in seasons of great sadness as well as joy. As we gather this day there are many words about Dodson or Lincoln I could lift up, and there will be a few. But we are also here to give thanks to God for the man we were all in our seasons privileged to know, and for God’s words that transcend this moment and offer promise for the story from here.

As I endeavor to capture the man God gave us to know and to love, and his legacy in this earthly life, perhaps the meta-narrative, the overarching theme would be found in these Lincoln words: “In the end it’s not the years in your life that counts, it’s the life in your years.” As I consider Dodson’s life witness, it is why I selected the hymn “Take My Life and Let It Be.” Because the very next words are- Consecrated, Lord, to thee. This was Dodson.

You all know far greater than I his great influence but also great devotion, in his professional life, and his relationships. Despite his influence he was not a clanging gong or crashing cymbal, but one who gracefully engaged life with a firm sense of commitment, and fairness, and taking genuine interest in humanity and enabling people to learn, the world over. Not in a haughty way, but with faithful persistence.  And I would be remiss if I failed to mention his time here as a leader at Holy Spirit. Always preparing for others to receive, he was a man who took his commitment to education and married it with his commitment to faith.

But it might never have been.

All of this would not have been possible much less achievable without a sense of optimism and openness for opportunity and growth. There is much in his life that would have suggested a different way….frail, not athletic, health woes, poor, not dominant.

But when a door opened to give him a scholarship to college, he grabbed it, even though it destined him to become an educator, not the lawyer he intended to be. Which leads me to a second Lincoln quote.

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or we can rejoice that thorn bushes have roses.” Dodson lived this, and seemed to grasp more often than most the patterns and seasons of life. Even these later years that were not at all what he desired for himself or Louise. Nowhere was his faith more evident than when I visited and had come to offer communion. He was lying down sleeping, but I nudged his shoulder. He woke and with a look of delight of anticipation realized, and cried out, “You came!” He insisted that Louise, who’d gone down the hall in her wheelchair, be present. All must be prepared! We dispatched a nurse to find her, and he got everything ready for her when she arrived. When she came, he cheerfully told her I was there to visit and to offer communion. If you know Louise in later years you know that to the casual observer it would seem his words were not quite understood. But ever optimistic, and gracious and leaning into that faith, he helped her eat the communion wafer. As she smiled, he turned to me and exclaimed- “She really is SO happy you’re here!”  

Ever gracious, ever devoted, ever faithful. That is the measure of life in his years. Shown in both large ways and in that simple moment in the room at Berks Heim where reason alone would not have been enough to believe what was taking place.

Abraham Lincoln was once reading a Bible and a skeptic upon seeing it, asked why a man of such education and reason would read it. To which he replied, “Take all that you can of this book upon reason, and the balance on faith, and you will live and die a happier man.” Which I think places us squarely not only in the life we recall, but in our gospel for this day. While we can know seasons, and we can read books and expand our minds, just beyond us is the truth for which only faith can provide the key.

Faith is what helps us hear that in Christ there are more chapters in the book and more of the story to know- for Dodson and for us.

For a man for whom most of his life was spent preparing others, all has been prepared. For a man for whom these last years have seemed a test of faith, there is now certainty. For a man so dedicated to justice, the words of Jesus are trustworthy- “this is true. I wouldn’t tell you so unless it was.  And there you shall be also.” And he is.

And I imagine the joy of seeing the fullness of all that teaching now experienced!

Dodson, you have taught us well. May all you have shared not be forgotten. And may almighty God strengthen us to live by faith that the next chapters of our story are yet to unfold but the ending is assured.

Onward Christian Soldiers

When I was talking with the girls, one of the things they immediately told me when we were planning the service was the fact we had to sing “Onward Christian Soldiers” because it was Donald’s favorite. As I looked at the many accomplishments in Donald’s life I could see that pattern of always moving vigorously forward the way the music suggests by its very beat. Always onward. Throughout his life’s work, and his commitment to conservancy, evidenced this day, his commitment to local government. And vigorous describes his commitment to this place, where it was well known and understood that unless you were sick, you were here! Onward! And in his life in the military and many years beyond he also lived in that overarching theme of victory. But then I thought about this day.


A day where we are here to celebrate the life and witness of a man who touched lives and lived fully and also here to proclaim resurrection victory through Christ in the face of his death. And in our loss we sang “Onward Christian Soldiers.” No matter how strong or weak we feel this day, joining that same voice across time. Yet words that sound different as the cross is not leading a throng of mighty men, but a single casket. “Like a mighty army moves the church of God, walking where saints have trod.” We join the song across the ages of the many who now are the saints. And it is at this moment made clear-these are words we can only sing in faith. Grasping in faith that improbable kingdom of God where our only weapons are faith and the Spirit. Reminded that our hope comes from reliance on more than the promises and protection we can muster, but what comes only from the power of God.

As I read Donald’s obituary he seemed larger than life, he was a giant. Not in a self-proud way, but simply a man who used well the gifts he was given by the Creator. I only knew him in this past year- in a very different time. And he was aware of its difference. He had suffered significant chronic health concerns though, in spite of them, in later years, he marveled in the year 2000 that he never expected to see the turn of the century yet through the power of prayers God brought him moments of unexpected healing and another 12 years after that century mark. All the way to 85, sharing yet again that birthdate he and Donna have in common. I believe in these fading years Donald grasped not so much a feeling of marching by one’s own strength, but a feeling of being carried by God.

Our Scripture readings this day all point to the fact- that no matter how accomplished we were in our lives, no matter whether you can trace your family back to the 1700’s, it all comes down to what God gives us- new life in Christ, and faith and the Holy Spirit to believe. In the words of Isaiah, and the words of our Psalm- we hear we can look to God for comfort, and strength, believing that we will receive them and have peace. That God is our helper. Certainly in these last days for Donald and for his family God has provided what only God could give- helping hands, moments of serendipity and the ability to be together with him at the critical time. In these waning times, there have been many such tender moments to sustain.

In later years as Lillian and Donald were separated in two different units for care, Lori was able to arrange to take them to a Hampton Inn overnight so that they could have a meal together and stay together and share in times of closeness that feed our souls. A great act of love shared made even greater by the fact that the Hampton Inn chose to not charge Lori for the room- an act of love and kindness. And there are many of these stories- of God placing people and blessings at just the right time. Right down to the loving care of the folks at St Joe’s who were able to let the family know it was a critical time. They say that the last of our senses to fade is hearing and I believe it brought peace and comfort that he could hear his family in that moment God gave them together. They could gather like that small but mighty army, to surround him with love that greatest of gifts- To be able to be there to complete an earthly circle. As someone said, he was there for our first breath and we were able to be there for his last.

These are the moments when we truly hang upon Jesus’ promise in the gospel- I am the resurrection and the life as an earthly life ends. This is the moment when we have to believe that it is more than living this life excellently. We are here to speak and sing that resurrection and to say-I believe. Over and over again Jesus uses this word in the Gospel of John often. Believe, believe believe…It’s actually best translated “keep on believing, keep on living into belief.” Over and over again. Said by a God who knows we need to be reminded and offering up for us to hear-Jesus words as we read them, and as we share them with one another. Sharing faith in the cycle of places we travel- not only in places of joy or victory or birth, but in places of fear, and death and doubt. Keep Speaking, keep believing.

Words for us this day. These words of Jesus day came as Martha meets Jesus to tell him that her brother is dead and to chide him- “if only you had been here.” This day we instead give thanks not only for Donald’s life but for eternal life he has now received through the power of the cross of Christ. And to this we say- Lord we thank you that you are here!

And that because of you, death does not have the last word

Because ultimate victory is yours in Jesus the Christ. A victory you give to us to share. This is what pushes us onward- your power alone. And this is how you carry us- as we await the day when we’re gathered with Donald and all your army of saints

In peace and for eternity. Amen.



POSTSCRIPT: Because the deceased was a former Fish and Game Commissioner, there was an honor guard in uniform who stood watch at the casket and who served as pallbearers. Because he was a military veteran of distinction there were military honors at graveside. As we arrived at the cemetery, there was a dove that came and sat in the tree above my head. (A little worried about how that would turn out for me) After the committal, and the salute and taps were played, the dove flew away. As it happened the Fish and Game officers caught notice as did I. When we shared this with his daughters, one said that when he father helped her work on her house, every day there was a dove that came and sat there while they worked on her porch. It gave her comfort to think of her father checking one last time before flying off.

Connections

The famous writer and journalist, Andy Rooney and Harry have something in common- they shared a war. Rooney who served in World War II, chronicled his experiences in his book, My War. Drafted into service, Rooney was assigned to serve as a journalist for the GI newspaper, “Stars and Stripes.” The paper served as a way to keep all of the servicemen and women connected to the bigger picture of combat. Rooney followed along as the Allied troops re-took Europe after the Normandy invasion.
It is entirely possible he and Harry crossed paths during Harry’s service in Patton’s Fourth Armored Division Corps of Engineers. They certainly saw the same world as the troops entered Germany. Rooney wrote about the marvelous feats of the Corps of Engineers, but also in his way had a little fun. After all, humor is a necessary component for enduring what these men experienced, especially for those who had the task of being the front of the front line. A little good natured ribbing was natural along the way. It wasn’t disrespect; it was a coping skill for all that those men and women faced.
Rooney notes that the Corps of Engineers built impressive portable pontoon bridges as well as repairing arch and truss bridges. The portable pontoon bridges were exciting to cross as they swayed in the river current. The engineers were proud of their achievements and missed no opportunity to proclaim the virtues of their work. Rooney tells a story of a bridge built by the Corps across a small stream. On the approach to the bridge was a sign in large hand-printed letters that read something like this” YOU ARE CROSSING THIS STREAM COURTESY OF THE 342ND ENGINEERING CORPS. THIS BRIDGE WAS BUILT IN LESS THAN 72 HOURS UNDER HEAVY ARTILLERY FIRE AND IT ALLOWED TROOPS TO ADVANCE DEEP INTO GERMANY.”
The British Corps of Engineers took great delight in poking fun of the boasting of the Americans. About a mile or so down the road, in British territory was a bridge of a similar quality over the same winding stream, and the Brits erected a sign as well. Their sign read “THERE IS NOTHING REMARKABLE ABOUT THIS BRIDGE.” But of course the bridge was remarkable- all of the bridges were remarkable as was the work and bravery of the men.
In one sense Harry was perhaps like the British soldiers, in that he wasn’t the proud type to call attention to himself. That was not his way. But he too has a bridge story, one for which he received commendation. As Harry’s unit was moving through territory, they came to a bridge heavily rigged with landmines. It appeared at first that the bridge could not be crossed. This would mean delay as the old bridge would be taken down and a new one built. Troops might even become separated. But as Harry eyeballed the bridge, he was convinced it could be safely crossed. The response of his commander? “Prove it!” And so Harry by himself made his way across by himself-safely. And the troops then moved forward. Because of his expertise, time was saved and the troops were able to stay connected and move forward more quickly.
I was not fortunate enough to be blessed to know Harry, but I am blessed to have listened as some of you have shared the ways he was connected to you. If I could sum up the theme of the stories I have heard about him in one word it would be “connections.” AFTER THE WAR, Harry was a master of many skills, who worked at Armstrong where he actually secured three patents. He worked as a mailman, as a lineman for PPL, as a census taker. Always ready to help with the electrical work on your project. I wish I had him at my house recently. He was never too busy to reach out. As I thought about all he did, and how he lived, I saw that all of his work was about that word, “CONNECTIONS.”
I am not particularly electrically minded, but even from my one shop class in school, I remember that the key to electricity is the circuit, or connection in electrical work. When the circuit is connected, there is power and light and things happen. When it is broken, there is darkness and confusion. Harry, or Linny to those close to him, was all about connections. Not an outgoing man, but he was kind, steady, faithful, hard working, devoted. Once you were in his life, he held on, always maintaining that link.
• He was connected to his family-his wife of 67 years, T. Continuing to try to stay connected even as their memories failed, hers significantly. Connecting in the nursing home even when as her Alzheimer’s advanced, it was not clear she knew.
• To his daughter, S, his son-in-law, S. His grandchildren, even his in-laws with whom he and T lived for a time. To his brother B and his family. Always staying connected out of a deep love and devotion.

• Connections to friends, co-workers, neighbors, but also to people that surprised me, but maybe not you. Which leads to another war story. When Allied soldiers were moving through Germany, they were often given housing by local families. One such family in fact gave shelter to Harry and 7 of his compatriots. After the troops moved on, Harry stayed in touch. Writing to the family long after the war, and ultimately returning to visit those who were still surviving after the war- to say “thank you.” The family said he was the only one of the soldiers who did so, maintaining a connection that no one would have expected.

OUR READING TODAY FROM ROMANS IS ALL ABOUT CONNECTIONS TOO. The apostle Paul, was a man who remained a faithful witness in the face of adversity-travel far away, risk, even prison. More importantly a witness to a commitment to connections-reminding those he connected with of God’s commitment- COMMITMENT TO AN UNBREAKABLE CONNECTION. Listen again to how strong that connection is-
• neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation can break God's connection-that’s pretty powerful.
I can imagine these words as God’s words to a soldier in the shock of war, in the trenches of life.
AND in the life events and trenches you have faced and face now that perhaps have seem just as overpowering. In the face of all of these things, I proclaim to you this day God’s words of hope for us today.
In the midst of sorrow and loss at Harry’s death, we hear our hope. We heard it at the beginning of the service in the words of our Thanksgiving for Baptism, also from Romans, chapter 6- Words that remind us that we have the promise of sharing with Christ, not just in death, but in life, through our baptism. One end of the connection. Then in the beginning of Chapter 8, Paul tells us that this baptism means we are adopted as God’s children- WE have hope while we wait. We are told that when what we face seems too much to bear, when we can’t find the words to pray anymore, the Spirit keeps the connection flowing- praying for us, praying with us, knowing our hearts. When we sigh, God sighs; when we cry, God cries.
And then we hear that through our baptism and Christ’s death and resurrection, the two ends of the circuit are closed, are connected. WE ARE CONNECTED to the promise- God’s promise that death does not have the last word. Though we feel in our loss, like there is a break in the connection, we can rest assured that God is still connected to each of us. God’s claimed Harry and each of us in baptism. Claimed us, saved us and assures us that there will be more to the story- from a God that keeps his promises. A God that says, "In difficult days I will be with you. You can count on this. I will be your refuge and your strength. I will be there in times of trouble to carry you through."
“I promise to never, ever stop loving each of you.” God will never give up on us. May this help you to live in the confidence that no matter what has happened or will happen, God’s promise and presence are NEVER GONE- NEVER SEPARATED from us.
At the end of World War II, Winston Churchill was at a dinner and a man stood up and said, "At the Battle of the Bulge we had evidence that the British soldiers were braver than the Nazi soldiers. The Battle of the Bulge proved that." When Churchill got up to speak, he said, "That's not true. The Nazi soldiers were just as brave as the British soldiers. But the British soldiers were brave for five minutes longer."

Brothers and Sisters, we know what it feels like to wonder if we can hold on even five minutes longer. But when it all looks bleak or dark, hang on to this hope! The list of overwhelming things Paul shares are designed to remind us that there is nothing too big for God’s power, and nothing that will break God’s connection of love for us, and the promise it brings.
Live in the confidence that the God who gave his Son Jesus on the cross will not break that connection. He'll be there-to carry you, to give you the strength to endure, to bring good out of the negative. He will be there- in love, speaking again and again to you, that for you, for me, for Harry,
NOTHING can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord, now and unto eternal life.
Thanks be to God!