St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD
November 5, 2023
Year A: All Saints’ Sunday
Revelation 7:9-17
Psalm 34:1-10, 22
1 John 3:1-3
Matthew 5:1-12
Living Sacraments
In last week’s sermon, I mentioned that I know that my love of Baptism has become kind of a running joke around here.
And that’s all right. I can take it.
The other running joke (or, at least the other one that I know about!) is that I like an active church.
I don’t make any apologies for that. Part of good stewardship is using the blessings – the resources – that we have received. And, especially these last few weeks, or months, really, I’d say that we have been exceptionally good stewards – serving and learning and growing in so many wonderful ways.
For me, one recent highlights was our study of the excellent little book by Rowan Williams, the former Archbishop of Canterbury.
Being Christian, it’s called.
I’ve been part of a lot of book studies but this one produced some of the best conversations I’ve experienced – thoughtful, interesting, and challenging.
And you know it’s a good book study when the participants think about the book during the week between our meetings. In fact, some parishioners got in touch with me by email or text because they wanted to talk more about something that they had read.
For example, one parishioner reached out to ask about sacraments.
She said that someone she knew had told her that at her church they consider the passing of the peace to be a sacrament!
Our parishioner asked me, “Is this true?”
Well, maybe from a long-ago Confirmation class, some of you may remember that sacraments are defined as “outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual grace.”
Jesus himself gave us the sacraments of Baptism and Communion.
And then there are the five other “sacramental rites” that recognized by the Church: Confirmation, Ordination, Matrimony, Reconciliation, and Anointing of the Sick.
But, God is not limited by what we determine to be official and so the truth is that, yes, with the right intention, the passing of the Peace can totally be a sacrament - an outward sign of invisible grace.
In fact, so much of the good that, with God’s help, we do here can be, and often is, sacramental – the beautiful music that our choir offers us week after week, and the fellowship we enjoy, and the welcoming of the stranger, and the feeding of the hungry, even the filling out of a pledge card and, who knows, maybe even the sermon!
Really, at its best, the whole church is a giant sacrament – an outward sign of invisible grace.
And, the saints – both the “capital S” saints officially certified by the church and the holy people of our own lives – they are living sacraments.
All Saints’ Day, which we’re celebrating today, always gets me thinking about the many saints – the many living sacraments – that I’ve met.
The first was probably my grandmother – my mother’s mother. I’ve told you about her before. Like every other saint, she was imperfect but God’s invisible grace was easy to see in and through her life, right to the end.
One time when I was visiting her in the hospital, not long before her death, my grandmother turned to me and said, “I know where I have come from and I know where I am going.”
Whether she realized it or not, my grandmother was quoting Jesus (It’s John 8:14). And that day in her hospital room, it was her solid faith, her unwavering trust, that got me thinking about my own life and got me started on a journey that, eventually, led right here.
One of the most recent saints I’ve met was our parishioner Donna Gribble, who died a little over a month ago.
Early on in my time here, Donna and her husband Larry made an appointment to meet with me.
As we sat in my office, they shared their story with me, how Larry had repaired school buses and Donna drove them – how they had both served as volunteer fire fighters for many years.
They also told me how Donna had been battling cancer for a couple of years.
And they told me that they wanted to come back to St. Thomas’, back to the church where Donna had grown up, back home.
Later, Donna and Larry celebrated their fortieth anniversary by renewing their vows right here, surrounded by their loving family and friends.
It was a beautiful service, one of the most moving I’ve ever been part of. There was so much love in this room that day.
Not too long ago, Donna’s cancer passed the point of no return.
Although it was such a terribly sad time, it was also a great privilege to make this final journey with Donna and Larry.
During those last weeks, I began to understand just how much Donna had meant to so many people, how much she had given to her family and friends, her co-workers, the children who rode on her bus, and her fellow firefighters.
Through tears, over and over, people talked about her selflessness.
It wasn’t just her own children who called her “mom.”
Her funeral here was a testament to the kind of life she led. Even the chief of the County Fire Department kept choking up as she tried to honor Donna.
Although she definitely wanted to live, to spend more time with Larry and her family, Donna had faced her death with the kind of faith and trust that reminded me very much of my grandmother.
During one of my visits, I told Donna about my grandmother and how she had said, “I know where I have come from and I know where I am going.”
I think Donna recognized a kindred spirit, and during her last days, including her very last day, she repeated those confident words of Jesus.
Donna was a saint. Like all of us, she was imperfect. But she was most certainly a living sacrament: an outward and visible sign of inward and spiritual grace.
And now, today, on All Saints’ Sunday, I am about to have the great joy of baptizing our parishioner, Sean.
Of course, every baptism is joyful – remember the running joke – but, I have to say, there is something extra special when it’s an adult making this choice for himself, standing before his church community, with his sponsors at his side.
In the water of Baptism, God will make an unbreakable bond with Sean. But at the same time, the holy water is only a visible sign of what has been invisibly true all along.
Those of us who’ve had the chance to get to know Sean know that he, too, is a living sacrament.
When I look back over the past couple of years – back to when Sean and his mom and his aunt first started to attend church here – and how Sean has grown in his faith, grown in this community – sharing God’s grace in seemingly small but beautiful ways – working on the Altar Guild (he’s the “muscle” of the Altar Guild), participating in our Adult Confirmation class and now the Young Adult Group – when I think of the journey we’ve all been on together, well, God’s grace is already shining so bright, even before we get to the water.
Like my grandmother, like Donna, like Sean, all of us are called to be saints.
We are meant to be living sacraments – outward and visible signs of God’s invisible grace – the grace that is powerful enough to make real Jesus’ vision of the downside-up Kingdom of God, the world where it’s the poor and sorrowful and meek and hungry who are truly blessed.
We are all meant to be – and, with God’s help, can be - living sacraments.
Amen.
Posts
