Preached at St Mary’s, Potterne; Christ Church, Worton; and Holy Cross, Seend
Readings – 1 John 3.1–3; Matthew 5.1–12
“See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God”
Which is your favourite saint? Is it St Agur, known for his blue cheese? Or perhaps St Ivel, dedicated to the more humble margarine and yoghurt? And who could forget my favourite saint, St Bruno – the patron saint of pipe-smokers?
The funny thing about all those famous saints from the labels of consumer products is that none of them exist – except for St Bruno, who was one of the most austere monks in the history of the Church! Why is it that naming a product for a saint is so popular that marketing men will make up entirely fictitious saints for the sake of branding? Is it something about the sense of wholesomeness and age-old tradition they invoke?
Yet most of us would run a mile at the idea that we are saints, or should be saints. We know we aren’t saints: we’ve all cheated when we were playing Patience – sometimes Scrabble and Monopoly too – and we pick our noses when we think nobody is looking.
Saints? No, not us. We just muddle along and hope the Big Man is going to be kind enough to do right by us when we pop our clogs.
And that, my dears, is precisely the problem. We think a saint is someone who is perfect, or at least nearly perfect. But only Jesus is perfect. All those saints whose days come up in the Church’s calendar had plenty of flaws – even the ones who get statues made of them and even the ones in the Bible.
St Paul? Such a histrionic bundle of bad-tempered stress that even lovely St Barnabas, so sweet-natured he was nicknamed ‘The Encourager’, was driven round the bend by him. James and John, the Sons of Thunder, had a temper too – but theirs was the sort of temper that made them want to incinerate their enemies! Peter was another one with a temper – remember Jesus telling him to put away his sword? – and we all know what he was like on the night before Jesus died.
Whatever a saint is, it isn’t someone who is always sweet and nice and certainly not someone who has never made a mistake. A saint is someone who is running the race that God has set before them, or at least trying their best to; a saint is someone who is running towards Jesus, even if they take a few wrong turns along the way.
All Saints’ Day is the feast that reminds us that all Christians are called to be saints – not necessarily of the type that has statues made of them or brands of cheese named for them, but in the everyday stuff of our lives. Yes, you too are called to be a saint – in work or at school, when doing the shopping and parking your car, when you are strong and when you are sick or weak – and yes, you are also called not to cheat at Scrabble.
St John writes in today’s first reading, “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are.”
That is a line addressed to you and me because, extraordinary as it seems, that is indeed what we are – children of our heavenly Father, called to pattern our lives on that of His Son Jesus Christ, and empowered in doing so by the Holy Spirit. Sainthood isn’t beyond our reach. God doesn’t set us up to fail. We are called to live holy lives – and holy isn’t the same as being pious, or humourless, and it certainly isn’t about looking down our noses at other people. In fact, sometimes it’s just about picking yourself up off the ground when you stumble – or even just allowing other people to pick you up.
Our Gospel reading on All Saints’ Day is always the Beatitudes, because that is the 140-word blueprint for living a holy life. It isn’t about going out there like a gangsta and smiting unbelievers. In fact, it isn’t much about what you do at all – it’s about understanding your life differently. The moments when we seem to be at our lowest, or are seen as being at our lowest by others, are actually the moments when we’re most blessed.
A number of threads seem to run below the surface of the Beatitudes. One is that those who are brought to a particularly deep understanding of their dependence on God see the kingdom of heaven most clearly. That is true whether they learn how much they need God because they are poor in spirit or because they are persecuted for the sake of righteousness.
Another thread is that those who lack and suffer are blessed because only they can know how sweet it is when long unmet needs are finally met. Those who mourn are blessed for they will be comforted. It is those who are meek, not those who are dominant, who will inherit the Earth. Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will, in the end, be satisfied. Even the merciful need mercy, and they will receive it.
Yet another thread is that those who endure and remain close to Christ in spirit will be particularly blessed. The peacemakers, who so often get it in the neck from both sides, will be called the children of God. Those who remain pure in heart in a wicked world will indeed see God.
And those who are persecuted for Christ’s sake in this world will receive a great reward in heaven: to suffer and be persecuted has always been the lot of God’s prophets. Telling the truth can make people profoundly uncomfortable; in this world, it often comes at a great price. But in heaven the values of this world are turned upside down and freedom, justice, and peace shall reign.
We too will be brought to fruition in heaven. As St John wrote in our first reading, “when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is.”
The best preparation for meeting Him face-to-face is to start living according to these Beatitudes now, so that when that day comes, all that hinders us from living like Him will wither away, and we shall become the saints that we were always meant to be.
And now to God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, be ascribed all might, majesty, dominion, and power, as is most justly His due, now and for evermore. Amen.