Listen to music that helps you think about death like, Faure s Requiem Mass, or the Blues.

Transcription

1 St. Mark s Episcopal Church Albuquerque, New Mexico Sunday November 6, 2016 Feast of All Saints Preacher: Christopher McLaren Title: Befriending Death Today we celebrate the Feast of All Saints, a joyful and poignant celebration, if ever there was one. All Saints, a commemoration of the friends of God, is set in the midst of several other celebrations that enrich and enliven the day like few others in the Christian calendar. For many of us, this day is charged with great affection and attraction that set it apart as a key feast and time of remembrance. While you may have never thought about it or talked about it, the Feast of All Saints is really part of a 3-day liturgical celebration, a sacred three days in the autumn of the year. If you don t mind me letting you in on a little secret of the Christian calendar, the three-day celebration of All Hallow s Eve, All Saints and All Souls is linked to our most important three-day celebration in the spring of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and the Great Vigil of Easter, the Sacred Three Days that are at the center of our life and faith in the church. They are sisters, and both serve to lead us out of fear and death, and into the light of life and resurrection. The cycle of All Saints begins with Halloween, on October 31 st. Originally, this was a Celtic or Druid celebration, remembering the dead. The Christian Church in England baptized it, transforming it into All Hallows Eve, or the Evening of the Holy Ones. And while kids dressed up as so many hobgoblins and superheroes are likely not thinking about all the holy ones, you can forget about this being some sort of satanic festival, for this is the beginning of a sacred three-day festival, if only we can recover it. Our modern commemoration of Halloween is full of laughter, the crazy laughter that comes with surprise and fear. Oh, we don t talk about it a whole lot, but fear is one of the things we do commemorate in the latter days of October with the chill of fall in the air and our gardens dead by frost. (Just barely in Albuquerque, I might add). The streets are full of ghosts and zombies, witches and vampires, and all manner of horrid creatures in masks that move us to laughter, for we would rather laugh than show our fear. Halloween then offers us a time to snicker at death, to run through the graveyards with our friends and to enjoy one of the oldest tricks in the book: To dress up in disguise in the silly hope that we might fool death and the grim reaper for yet another year. So, behind all the candy and laughter and costumes is the reality of all that we fear. We can hide from our fears, disguise them with possessions, try to cover up their bitterness with sweets, but in the end, fear is something we cannot hide from. Fear 1

2 can paralyze us and cause us to turn away from doing the right thing. But fear can also be a place of vulnerability through which God can reach us. In our fears, we can draw close to God, allowing the healing light to shine in the places of our darkness. We will never be rid of our fears, but through eyes of faith we may be able to see within them our own deep need of God, and turning to face these fears we may find the face of God. On November 1 st,, The Feast of All Saints is the centerpiece of this robust three-day festival. On it, we commemorate all of the extraordinary men and women, friends of God, who have given voice and example to the triumph of faith over fear. Those who embodied goodness in their lives and actions and who chose the way of God over the paths of darkness and evil many times over. On this day, we tend to remember the famous saints, like Francis of Assisi, who walked away from wealth and privilege into the countryside around Assisi, communing with the birds, serving the poor, and sharing everything he was given. If you re of a more mystical bent, you might be attracted to Dame Julian of Norwich, living in her cell attached to the church with one window facing the sacramental altar and one looking out on the street, a blending of the sacred and secular Christians still strive toward today. Or Dietrich Bonhoeffer, whose witness to Christ in Nazi Germany took the unusual shape of plotting the assassination of Hitler from within his prison cell, even though he feared he might lose his own soul in the process. On November 2 nd, the feast concludes with All Souls, during which we remember our own friends and relatives and those whose faith is known to God alone. In this feast, we proclaim our Christian hope that in death life is changed, not ended. In this celebration, we give voice to our shared mortality and express our aspirations and expectations of a shared eternity with those who have gone before us, in the power of God s way of resurrection. We Christians dare to hope beyond the constraints of mortality. All Souls reminds us that Christians are a people of hope, a hope embodied and described in the saints and souls, a vast company and communion dwelling with God beyond time and forever. So, within the Feast of All Saints is a deep and profound movement from our fears about death and disease and things that go bump in the night at Halloween, to the life of faith and faithfulness in the examples of all that have gone before us as friends of God on All Saints, to the renewal of hope for life beyond death in the faces and memories of our own beloved ones. In this part of the world, our commemoration of the Feast of All Saints, flanked by All Hallows Eve and All Souls, is enriched and deepened by the Mexican tradition of El Dia de los Muertos, The Day of the Dead. This celebration, like its Celtic sister, was a pre-christian festival among the ancient Aztec and Mayan people honoring their dead. The Spanish recognized within the Day of the Dead celebration the movements of All Saints and Souls and baptized this festival for faithful use, allowing an indigenous tradition to be combined into the church s worship. 2

3 On Dia de los Muertos, in parts of Mexico and now in parts of the US, people make altars in their homes, in the cemeteries and in public squares and marketplaces just like the one we have lovingly prepared here in our place of worship. These colorful altars are arranged with flowers, especially marigolds, candles, photographs of departed loved ones, images of the saints, sugar skulls, colorful beads, Icons, incense, and favorite foods and toys. The Dia de los Muertos altar is an invitation, not only to remember the dead, but to party with them, to acknowledge our connection both to the living and to the dead. As a people of faith, this day is meant to awaken within us the deep hope of eternal life with God that stands at the center of our Christian story in the Risen One. Because we have nearly lost All Saints in the increased trivialization of Halloween, it is hard to think of anything in our culture like Dia de los Muertos that takes such a warm and playful approach to death, while maintaining a sense of respect and dignity. We live in a culture that mostly denies death. Even while our culture ages and more boomers are retiring than ever, we still exalt a youth culture and everyone tries to dress and act young and sporty. We don t like to talk about death, and in so many ways, we ve made of death something antiseptic. The dead are removed from our midst quickly, and by professionals. There are few wakes with the casket in the living room and family and friends gathered to weep and mourn and tell stories. I can remember a scene from my childhood when a friend of mine s father died in a large Irish Catholic family. Out of respect for my friend, his wonderful family, and to be honest, his beautiful younger sister, I attended the wake that was like nothing I d ever experienced in my sheltered Assembly of God upbringing. The house was jammed with people, the casket in the living room, the whiskey was flowing and people were laughing and weeping and telling stories and hugging and crying, playing music as friends and neighbors and relatives streamed in-and-out of that little home. It seemed so earthly, human, connected and wonderful to me that I have never forgotten it. In a real way, Dia de los Muertos offers us something that we surely need in the church. It invites us to make friends with death. Through its zany skeletons and cadaverous wedding party scenes, its story-telling, its feasting and drinking and gaudy colors and decorations, it creates a warm fellowship between the living and the dead. It lightens up and makes bearable something that can be devastatingly sad and tragic. It allows us to remember our dead, to celebrate their lives that have affected us in so many ways, just as the saints have throughout history. But it also reminds us that before too long, we too will be joining those dancing skeletons, so life must be celebrated. Please don t misunderstand me. Death can be devastating. Losing someone we love deeply, can wound our spirit and make us heartsick. For many of us, this past year has been marked by losses. Many of us have experienced losses of parents, siblings and friends that have saddened us and brought the gift of life sharply into focus. In our parish family, it has been a difficult year of loss as many of us are still recovering 3

4 from losing Cecil Fish, our beloved matriarch in January, Marge McCormick, such a bright soul, and John Wright, faithful and strong member. In this community of faith, we have buried loved ones that used to keep us company in this sacred space. The Feast of All Saints and the celebration of El Dia de los Muertos is an invitation to us to befriend death, something that eventually we all must do. If we don t, we risk something just as dangerous: never being fully alive. We all know people, surely not ourselves, that are so afraid of loss that they have a death grip on everything. We are such fearful creatures, that sometimes we deny ourselves life, because we are so worried about loss and death. But El Dia de los Muertos helps us remember that life is supposed to be held lightly, life is supposed to be lived, invested, spent, given away, for that is how it comes back to us; redoubles on itself and grows. Befriending death, allowing it to be our companion, but not our bully, is a first step toward the life that All Saints is calling us toward. St. Francis named death, Sister Death, a close relationship that reminds us of what a wonderful gift life is, how beautiful existence really is. A few years back, I visited parishioner, Al Ussery, in the hospital and he was his usual profound self. At one point, talking about his struggles, he said to me, Life is good wherever you find it. Life is good and precious wherever we find it indeed! And realizing that, is perhaps reason enough to wake up and live the life that is in front of us, celebrate it, dare to be a saint, dare to have faith that God is good and that a life well lived is worth every sacrifice and every danger. So, if this Feast Day is about making friends with death, how do we as people of faith go about that? What practices might help us to befriend our sister death? Let us try to list a few ways to allow death to become more of our companion and less of our enemy. Perhaps we can do this by visiting those who are seriously ill in a hospital or hospice. Don t avoid them, go to them in loving care and sit with them, listen to their stories, bring your stories into the room, pray with them or read them prayers and psalms from the prayer book. This past week, that has been true for Kathy Bolognini, who is dying is hospice. People have taken her communion and stopped in to pray with her and encourage her family. Attend the Funerals and Celebrations of life for friends those in our parish that die. Don t be afraid to be part of the Burial of the Dead. In the Episcopal Church, every funeral is an Easter liturgy seen in the light of Christ s resurrection, so while it is a time of grieving, it is also a reminder of hope. Make out your will and your advance directive. Don t wait until you are old to organize your planned giving to the institutions that you feel are important and worthy of your legacy gifts. We ll be offering a several-week class in February, about making the important decisions and getting your house in order, so perhaps you might plan to attend. 4

5 Listen to music that helps you think about death like, Faure s Requiem Mass, or the Blues. Don t be afraid to touch the body at a viewing or a wake. Don t let a grave side service be antiseptic, pick up a handful of dirt underneath the fake turf beside the grave and drop a handful of soil onto the casket. Remember that God fashioned us from the dust of the earth by lovingly shaping humanity and breathing the Spirit into us. Be willing to talk to someone who has recently lost a loved one and share their grief and loss and listen to their stories. It is hardest a month or two after when everyone else has stopped talking about it, and you are still grieving. Make a point of attending the Ash Wednesday, Tenebrae and Good Friday liturgies during the year. They have a powerful way of helping us to confront our mortality. Read through the prayers for at the time of death in the Book of Common Prayer. Pray for those who have died, and don t be afraid to mention them at home or raise a glass in toast to their life. Take some time to look through the old photo albums of those who have gone before you and to whom you owe a debt of gratitude. Wander the ofrenda today, light a candle in remembrance and ask someone to tell you a story about the pictures they have placed on the ofrenda here, or on one of the family ofrendas that wonderfully grace our campus. But perhaps the most important way you can befriend your Sister Death, is to honestly consider how it is that you want to live the life that you have. As Mary Oliver says it, What are you going to do with your one precious and wild life? This is the question that comes as a gift to us through The Feast of All Saints and El Dia de los Muertos this day. In just a few minutes, on this Feast of All Saints, we will renew our own baptismal promises to God, like we have many times before. We will promise to live our faith in particular ways and to be faithful to the practices that for centuries have shaped the lives of faithful people. We will renounce evil, claim Jesus as our mentor and friend, promise to practice making community here in this place, to reach out in service to others in compassion and mercy, and to work hard for justice and peace in the world. Then, we will gather around this sacred table amidst the El Dia de los Muertos ofrenda and in the company of all the saints to share our Eucharistic Feast. It is something we do all the time with the friends of Jesus and the saints of God. It is something that slowly, over time, shapes us into saints ourselves, draws us deep into the fellowship of those who love God and live according to God s purposes. 5

6 So, this Eucharist is both a feast and an invitation. It asks how you want to live during the few precious years you ve got left? Do you want to be a saint, a friend of God? Do you want to befriend death so that you can truly live? Will you dare to practice resurrection? Today is an opportunity to move from the fear of death to faith and hope in God. So, take this opportunity. Reclaim who you are in Christ as you renew your Baptismal Covenant. Become the saint that God intends for you to be. And as you wander around, gazing at the El Dia de los Muertos ofrenda today, filled with the images of those who have gone before us, allow yourself to embrace life, to wake up to the wonder and mystery that surround you. For it is a gift that God gives, and gives, and gives again. I am indebted to The Rev. Sam Portaro for his writing and inspiration about the threeday festival character of All Hallow s Eve, All Saints and All Souls in his wonderful book, Brightest and Best: A Companion to Lesser Feasts and Fasts. I am also indebted to my experiences of El Dia de los Muertos at The Episcopal Seminary of the Southwest and to its celebration at St. Michael s Episcopal Church, Albuquerque, and for the tutelage of The Rev. Brian Taylor in the art of befriending death. I hope that this sermon is the beginning of recovering something of the power of this Fall Triduum at St. Mark s Episcopal Church. 6