St. James Episcopal Church
Monkton, Maryland

Sermon for the 21st Sunday after Pentecost
History in the Making
Nathan J. A. Humphrey
Saint James Monkton
Year B, 21 Pentecost, All Saints' Sunday
2 November 2003
Revelation 7:2-4, 9-17
 
Today is an historic occasion, in at least four ways. The first two have to do with the past, and the second two with the future; to put it another way, the first two are history in the re-making and the second two are history in the making.

First, the most obviously historic occasion is the presence among us of the Civil War reenactors, to whom I want to extend a hearty welcome and thanks. While their reenactment is for many family entertainment, if taken seriously, we are reminded of how bitterly divided our nation once was, how bloody the consequences, and how costly the price both sides paid in the conflict. The Civil War itself was anything but fun for the whole family. It was a tragedy, and these reenactors are here not simply to entertain but to educate us about the trials and tribulations of that turbulent time.

The second most obviously historic occasion is the fact that today is All Saints' Sunday, the Sunday on which we remember all those people of faith who have preceded us in life, whose holiness and witness stand as a testament to God's love freely bestowed on us through Jesus Christ our Lord. These are the famous men and women of whom Ecclesiasticus sings praises. These are those robed in white spoken of in Revelation, the "great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages."

The third historic occasion will be obvious enough, especially at 9 o'clock and 10:15, for we have children to baptize. This is history in the making, in that we are witnessing the future of our church right here in the present.

The fourth historic occasion, not immediately apparent here but very much on the minds and hearts of many, is the fact that later on this afternoon in New Hampshire a priest will be ordained and consecrated a bishop whose manner of life is a matter of great debate. His ordination, lauded by some and denounced by others, is undeniably history in the making. Its historic importance is akin to the first shot fired at Ft. Sumter. For it presages our own Civil War within the Episcopal Church. The battle lines are only now being drawn, and the geography of this conflict is infinitely more complicated than that of North and South.

To which of these historic occasions should we pay the most attention? Certainly, our attention has been diverted by the colorful sights and sounds of the reenactors; on the other hand, for some of us at least, our hearts and minds have been distracted by the event about to take place in New Hampshire. And some of us will be distracted if our baptismal candidates get a bit noisy, as sometimes happens at these events.

Very few of us, however, are likely to be distracted by All Saints', which is too bad, because of the four, only the saints put all the other distractions of our lives in perspective. The saints are "they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." In other words, when we are facing our own ordeals, wars and rumors of wars, schisms and rumors of schisms, we need to remember that the church has been through this sort of thing before. You all know what a great lover of history I am, and I could stand here and tell you all sorts of tales of men and women, lay and ordained, bishops and poor people, who lived through far worse crises in their church. My favorite is a story about the corpse of a pope who was dug up and put on trial. But I promised John and Charlie that I'd make this short, so you'll just have to ask me about that and other stories some other time.

The point, however, is that because the saints have been through the great ordeals of life, "they are before the throne of God, and worship him day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes."

The saints point to where our full attention should be: not in the past or in the present or even in the future, but to the One who is beyond all time, to God. For God created the past, is with us in the present, and will continue to be with us in the future. The saints say to us: keep your eyes upon the Lamb at the center of the throne. Keep your eye on the shepherd who guides us to springs of eternal life, the God who wipes away every tear from our eyes, no matter what may come. The events of the past, such as the Civil War, matter, of course, in that they teach us important lessons about the cost of conflict. The events of the present, such as the crisis in the Episcopal Church, are important because they challenge us to be faithful in the here and now. But if we fail to look where the saints are looking, if we get so distracted by our own ordeals that we forget to worship the One who alone can save us from those ordeals, nothing we do will make any sense, our acts will be fruitless, and we will be left without hope in this world.

But thanks be to God! For we are not left without hope. The future saints of our church baptized today, with the saints who have gone before them, draw our attention to where things really matter: to the Lamb at the center of the throne, to God who puts all things in perspective, who shelters us in our fears and wipes away all our tears. I am reminded of that beautiful hymn by Robert Seymour Bridges and Herbert Howells. It's number 665 in your hymnals. I was going to read it, but I am moved to have us sing it instead. So let us all stand and sing verses 1, 2 and 5 of Hymn 665:

All my hope on God is founded; he doth still my trust renew,
Me through change and chance he guideth, only good and only true.
God unknown, he alone calls my heart to be his own.

Mortal pride and earthly glory, sword and crown betray our trust;
Though with care and toil we build them, tower and temple fall to dust.
But God's power, hour by hour, is my temple and my tower.

Still from earth to God eternal sacrifice of praise be done,
High above all praises praising for the gift of Christ, his Son.
Christ doth call one and all: ye who follow shall not fall.
 

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