Hebrews 12:1-3

Today, the Universal Church will be gathering to commemorate All Saints Day. This is the yearly remembrance of those who have gone before us, and it is a time for remembering and celebration of those lives and what they have meant to us.

It isn’t easy to trace the origins of this feast, but many would agree that the celebration started around the 5th century in Italy and grew. Before the Reformation, this feast focused on those saints declared such by the Church. These were men and women that, through a long process, were named saints and given a particular day on which the Church recognized them. Roman Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, and Anglicans still follow this practice today.

All Saints Day survived the Reformation period and was celebrated in many Anglican and Lutheran Churches in Europe. However, for many Reformation Churches, of which we are one, transformed this day for not only those men and women declared saints by the Church but for all of those who have gone before us as we would consider all believers as saints and therefore worthy of remembrance.

There is often confusion about reverence for saints. Christians do not worship saints but rather use saints, and their images, as a way to help them focus their prayers. People will often ask saints to intervene, much like we would invite friends and others to pray for us. I guess some would call this worship, but I do not. Asking for prayers is a very normal request, so why would this not extend those on the other side.

So how does one become a saint? I would typically say that first, one must die, but there are living saints as well. Mother Theresa, for example. I would say that she was a living saint for all the work that she did in India and around the world. The Roman Catholic Church has officially declared her a saint, but she was revered long before she died. In my way of thinking, saints are those who do the will of God and, if you have heard me for any length of time, you know what that is; love God, love neighbor, care for the poor, and those less fortunate.

We need more saints in our world today!

I also want to speak for a minute about grief and loss. Many of you have lost loved ones this past year and have been experiencing the grief associated with that loss. But we have all experienced a loss that most of the time goes unrecognized. Our lives have been radically different since this pandemic began some seven months ago. We have not been able to gather completely as a community for worship and fellowship. Easter Services were canceled, and it looks like the same will happen with Christmas Services.

 We are heading into the season when we would typically gather with family and friends and, although we might be able to gather in smaller numbers than usual, things will not be the same. This is a loss as painful as the loss of a loved one. It would help if you allowed yourself to grieve this loss. Talk to each other about it. Support those struggling with this grief or with those who are unsure of how to express this grief. We have all experienced this loss, not only of the more than 200,000 who have died because of this pandemic but because of what we have all lost. Take time to grieve; it’s okay.

Let us now turn our attention toward the Scripture passage from Hebrews, specifically the first verse “since we are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses” and what I believe this means.

What does it mean to be surrounded by a cloud of witnesses in relation to All Saints Day?

I have spoken before about the Celtic idea of the think places. These are places where the distance between this world and the next is very thin. Some say that the Isle of Iona off Scotland’s coast is a thin place as well as the Island of Lindisfarne off England’s coast. Historically these were places of pilgrimage and attracted hundreds if not thousands of people each year.

Thin places are those places where we encounter God not in some far-off sort of way but in a real, personal, intimate way. The Celtic Christians were deeply connected to the natural world and believed that every aspect of life was infused with the divine. Historically the Celts believed that thin places were locations like I have just mentioned or times of the year when the veil that separates the world and the spiritual realm diminished, and we could encounter those gone before us. Today there is a belief that these thin places are becoming more common or that we are becoming more aware of them.

After my father died, my brothers and I began the process of cleaning out the house. This was not an easy task, as any of you who have done this well know. Each weekend we would all come together and tackle a little bit at a time. In the basement of the house was my father’s workshop. My father and I spent many hours there, working on projects and spending time together. One Saturday, while I was packing up the last of the tools, I felt relatively low, this was the only house I had ever really lived in, and my connection was ending. While packing up the tools, I felt a presence in the room with me, and I felt a hand on my shoulder as if to say it will be okay. For me, that was a thin place.

Many of us grew up with the image of heaven being on some far-off cloud where everyone dressed in white and sat around all day playing the harp. Now I am not saying that is a bad thing, just not very realistic. The experience I just shared from the basement and many others prove that those who have gone before us are not all that far away. For me, they are here with us just in another dimension, we interact with them, but we cannot see them. So, we are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses.

I find great comfort in knowing that those who have gone before me are still here with me and not on some far-off cloud somewhere. I find it reassuring that at times I can feel their presence through a word, a song, thought, or other time in my life. It helps me to know that I am not alone and that there are physically not present with me; spiritually, they are here.

Today as we think about those gone before us, be open to the idea that they are here, right here with us, and find some comfort in the fact.

Amen.

Matthew 18:21-35

It was a beautiful fall day, not unlike today. It was my first year of seminary, and I was sitting in class trying to stay awake as the professor droned on about something. My mind was wandering to so many things, this being my first year of seminary and all. Class ended, and we were dismissed. I recall walking out of the building, the warm sun hitting my face, and noticed that the campus was still, not many students around. Usually, the place was a buzz of activity at this time of the morning but not this morning.

I walked to the parking lot and got in my car. I turned on the radio expecting to hear the usual laughter and banter that was morning radio but instead, I heard what sounded like War of the Worlds. It was September 11, 2001. I drove back to the seminary campus and ran across the parking lot and into the building where I was living and up three flights of stairs. My fellow seminarians had all gathered on the common room, and the television was on. As I sat down, in utter disbelief, the first of the towers came down. Our lives as ministers and our lives as Americans would never be the same again.

I am sure we all have stories like that, stories of remembrance of where we were when we first heard our country is under attack. As we sit here this morning, perhaps, we remember what we felt on that morning 19 years ago. What emotions did we feel? What did we do? Did we stand as if frozen in time? Did we call loved ones? Did we cry? Did we pray? Did we get angry?

This morning we heard the story of the Unmerciful Servant from the Gospel of Matthew. This story begins with Peter’s question about forgiveness and how many times we are to forgive someone who sins against us. Peter says to Jesus, “Should we forgive up to seven times?” Peter thought he was super spiritual by using the number seven, but Jesus replied, “Not seven but seventy-seven times.” Seventy times seven is 490, and this must have come as a shock to Peter. Jesus never wasted a word, so there must be a meaning to what he is saying here.

Hebrew is alphanumeric, which means that every word has a numerical value. Words that share the same numeric value are often connected somehow, and these connections frequently communicate deeper spiritual insights. And is this indeed the case here.

490 is the numerical value of the biblical Hebrew word “Tamim,” which means to “complete,” “perfect,” or “finished.” A person who can’t forgive will always live an imperfect and incomplete life that lacks a real understanding of the “finished” gracious work of the cross. 490 is also the value of the Hebrew phrase, “Let your heart be perfect” (1 Kings 8:61). Forgiving helps to make us complete and is key to perfecting our hearts.

Forgiveness is essential to the life as a Christian.

As you know, we are called to “love our neighbor,” and we are also called to “love our enemies.” Jesus tells us in the Gospel that “loving those who love us back is easy,” and this is very true it is easy to love those who love us back, but how about those who do not love us back? How about those who we do not like? How about those that perpetrate heinous acts of terrorism against our neighbors and us? It’s not easy, but for us, its where the rubber meets the road.

I think there is a lot of confusion about the nature of forgiveness, just like there is confusion about the idea of love. Before, I have told you that we have to love everyone, but we do not have to like them. Jesus calls us to love because we are loved, loved by God. We are called to love because each of us is created in God’s image and likeness, but Jesus is silent on liking people. Love and like and two vastly different emotions. We are required; actually, we are commanded to love just as we are commanded to forgive.

As I just said, there is confusion about this concept of forgiveness; Jesus is telling us that we have to forgive someone 490 times if they sin against us. It sounds as if Jesus is telling us that we have roll over and take whatever someone wants to doll out against us. Well, that is not truly the case. Just like there is a difference between like and love, there is a difference between forgiveness and forgetting.

It is true that Jesus commands that we forgive, but Jesus does not say we have to forget. Jesus commands that we forgive, but Jesus does not say that we cannot seek justice for what has been done against us. Last week Jesus told us that if someone sins against us, we are to seek reconciliation with them, and if that is impossible, we are to treat them as a pagan or a tax collector. We are to seek justice, but justice begins with forgiveness.

Forgiveness is not for the person that has sinned against us; forgiveness is for us. When we withhold forgiveness, we are giving over a portion of ourselves to the person that has harmed us. When we withhold forgiveness, we give those who have injured us the power of a part of our lives. When we offer forgiveness, we regain control, and we take back the power that the other person has over us, and we begin the healing process.

But remember, forgives does not mean we forget. We do not forget what the person has done. We do not forget the pain they have caused. We do not give up the right to seek justice for what has been done. Forgiveness does not mean we have to ever have anything to do with them again. Forgiveness means we take back the power, and we begin to heal.

Another negative result of withholding forgiveness is that the anger we feel from being hurt and fester and turn from righteous anger. This anger wants to see justice done, to destructive anger that wants vengeance for what has been done against us. Justice is healthy, but vengeance is not.

But the goal of forgiveness is to restore us to love. Sure, we can choose to be angry and withhold forgives, and there are somethings that we may never be able to forgive others for, but what we do with that anger is the difference between love and hate.

I did not know anyone that was killed on that horrific day in September of 2001. I do know people who died as a result of that day. Several people I served with in Army have been killed in Iraq and Afghanistan due to the events of that day. I can choose, as so many have to turn my feelings of anger toward everyone who is Muslim or everyone who looks different than I do. Or, I can choose to turn that anger into justice and understanding, which places me on the road to love.

I was honored to participate in the 9/11 service of remembrance organized by the Quincy Fire Department. This is an annual gathering designed to remind us of what we lost on that day, friends, neighbors, and loved ones. We remember not to rekindle those feelings of anger from those days. We remember the lives that were lost, and we promise to be better people.

It was not religion that flew those planes into the towers in New York. It was not religion that flew that plane into the Pentagon in Washington, DC. It was not religion that drove those on that plane that crashed in that field in Pennsylvania. Hatred is what did that. Hatred against people they did not even know.

But we saw something else on that day; we saw love. Love was the reason those firefighters ran into those buildings when everyone else was running out. Love was why the police and EMT’s ran into those buildings when everyone else was running out. Love was why the people on Flight 93 stormed the cockpit and forced that plane to crash into the field in Pennsylvania rather than it’s intended target. It may not have seemed like it at the time, but it was love that did all of that, and love won the day because love always wins!

I want to end with a quote from an article written on September 15, 2001, by the novelist Ian Mcewan that appeared in the Guardian Newspaper called “Only love and then oblivion. Love was all they had to set against their murderers”.

“A San Francisco husband slept through his wife’s call from the World Trade Centre. The tower was burning around her, and she was speaking on her mobile phone. She left her last message to him on the answering machine. A TV station played it to us, while it showed the husband standing there listening. Somehow, he was able to bear hearing it again. We heard her tell him through her sobbing that there was no escape for her. The building was on fire, and there was no way down the stairs. She was calling to say goodbye. There was really only one thing for her to say, those three words that all the terrible art, the worst pop songs, and movies, the most seductive lies, can somehow never cheapen. I love you.

She said it over and again before the line went dead. And that is what they were all saying down their phones, from the hijacked planes and the burning towers. There is only love, and then oblivion. Love was all they had to set against the hatred of their murderers.”

Forgiveness is not easy. Love is not easy, but it is all we have.

Amen

Matthew 15:10-28

Up until about 100 years ago, fasting and abstinence were a part of the Christian Spiritual Tradition. At several points in the history of our country, the President has called for days of fasting and abstinence, usually during some time of calamity like President Lincoln’s proclamation of March 30, 1863. Fasting and abstinence are still a part of the Roman Catholic and Orthodox Christian traditions, although they are not as widely practiced as they used to be.

As many of you know, I was ordained in the Romanian Orthodox tradition. Part of that tradition was strict fast days on Wednesdays and Fridays through the year and the 40 days leading up to Christmas and Easter. No meat or dairy products were consumed during these days, which worked out to be more than half the year.

Fasting and abstinence are spiritual disciplines that come after years of practice and failing. I recall the usual speech I would give at the start of one of these significant fast periods. I would say to those in the congregation assembled before me, “if you emerge from the fast the same rotten person you were when you went in, it did not work.” Now part of this was tongue in cheek, but part of it was not.

The ancients believed if we could control what went into the body, we could control what came out. Oh, it is also a healthy lifestyle.

In today’s Gospel from Matthew, Jesus uses the Jewish dietary laws as a backdrop for much larger teaching. Jesus says in verse 11, “What goes into someone’s mouth does not defile them, but what comes out of their mouth, that is what defiles them.”

It’s not what goes in, but what comes out.

In the last few years, it has become customary to say whatever we want, and then, when called on, it either says, “that’s not what I meant” or if it was really bad, “I’m sorry.” This has been exacerbated by those hiding behind their computers and post and making comments on the various social media platforms. These “cowards,” and I call them cowards because they would not dare say what they type in person, have only added to the break down in the social fabric of our day.

People have always been passionate about the causes they believe in. In 1856 Senator Charles Sumner of Massachusetts gave a fiery abolitionist speech in the United States Senate. This was during the time that slavery in the border states was being discussed. Sumner challenged some of his fellow Senators during his two-hour speech. Sumner ridiculed Senators Stephen Douglas and Andrew Butler during his speech much to the displeasure of Representative Preston Brooks, the first cousin of Butler. Two days after the address, Butler entered the Senate Chamber while Sumner was sitting at his desk and started to hit Sumner with his cane until he was unconscious. Sumner survived the attack, but it illustrates to what extent people will go when they are passionate about their cause. As an aside, Brooks waited until the Senate Gallery was empty, so there would be no ladies present to witness the attack.

Words can enrage, words can hurt, words can show love, and words can bring comfort. It is not what goes into someone’s mouth the defiles them, but what comes out of it.

It seems these days we can say or “tweet” whatever we want, factual or not, and when called on it, we just say, “oh, I’m sorry” and just walk away. But what harm has those words we spoke, or typed, tweeted done? What do these words say about us as Christians, or those professing to be Christians? Words have power, a lot of power if they didn’t words like “Black lives matter” would not stir people, and many of them Christian to rage.

There was a time in my memory when issues could be debated on the issues without bringing the character of the person discussing into the debate. There have been some great debates over profoundly serious issues without calling people names, bringing up their past, and all the rest. Calling someone “crooked” or “sleepy” just because you disagree with them does not raise the level of debate it lowers it, and you.

IN one of the churches I led, there were serious questions about the future of that congregation and whether they should sell the property and merge with another church. The debate got heated and downright nasty. Yes, personalities became involved, and insults were thrown back and forth. But at the end of the day, when the debate was concluded, everyone shook hands, apologized, really apologized, not some halfhearted apology because they were called out on their behavior, and everyone departed as friends. This is the way it’s supposed to happen.

But what is really going on in this scripture passage is Jesus taking another swipe at the religious leaders of his day. In some churches, even today, people are more hung up on the rules, then they are on the people that these rules affect. In my example of the fasting regulations, people were more concerned about what they ate and when they ate it, and what someone else ate and when they ate it then they were about working on their spirituality through the process of fasting. They missed the entire point of fasting.

In far too man churches today we have way too many rules about who is and who is not a Christian. Churches have rules to exclude people because they are divorced, remarried, married to a person of the same gender, are the wrong color, do not have enough money, have too much money (that one I don’t understand especially since we are talking about starting a stewardship campaign soon) and all the rest. I know of churches that look down on people who do not dress right, come from the wrong part of town; somehow, humans have got it into their heads that we are the ones who decide who God loves and who God does not love.

Several years ago, a poll was conducted by a church group. A series of questions was asked to try to determine why so few people attend church these days. The survey uncovered that by and large more people knew what the church was against and not what the church stood for, and unfortunately, all churches get painted with the same brush. Churches are not empty because of secular reasons like sports on Sunday; churches are empty because churches have forgotten how to love and care for people.

The second part of this Scripture illustrates this point to some degree. A Canaanite woman comes to Jesus and asks Jesus to heal her daughter. Jesus basically tells her to go away because she is not Jewish. “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel,” Jesus responds. He tells her he cannot help her because she is from the wrong side of the tracks. He calls her a dog and says that his work is only for those who look and act a certain way.

Then the woman makes a bold move and calls Jesus out on his behavior and uses his own words, “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” Keep in mind the two cultural things going on here, she is a woman, and she is from the wrong side of town. She has asked something of Jesus, and she is calling him on his behavior.

Jesus is putting tradition and the rules before people, Jesus is hiding behind the rules rather than granting this woman’s request. Now, Jesus is doing this to illustrate a point, and I firmly believe that he intended to heal the woman’s daughter all along, but he is showing that we cannot put the rules, no matter how important before helping people.

I am often asked what brought me to the United Church of Christ? There are many reasons, but one of the chief reasons was communion, not the theology per se but the fact that in the United Church of Christ, everyone is welcome to the Table of the Lord’s Supper, and no one is excluded. We say, “no matter who you are, no matter where you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here.” Come all you who labor and find rest.

God sent his only son not to create an institution of rules, regulations, and traditions. God sent Jesus to show us the way to love everyone, including our enemies, and to care for one another. At the center of the Gospel is love, everything Jesus said and did was out of love, we should follow that example as the church and as people who say we follow him.

Matthew 14:22-33

This past week Nicky, Oonagh, and I took a few days and snuck away to New Hampshire for a little Rest and Rehabilitation. It was great to be away and near the water. I grew up near the water, and I genuinely miss it. I miss the smell of the ocean air and walk one block over and see the waves crash on the shore during a storm.

I woke early in the morning, made coffee, and went outside the room and just sat and watched the lake. Nothing unusual was happening, and I missed the sunrise, but the water was so calm and peaceful as compared to the world whirling behind me.

Let’s face it the last few months have been crazy, and they do not seem to be getting any better. Recently someone said that things were getting better, but I think we are just getting used to this new reality. I refuse to call it the “new normal” because there is nothing normal about what is going on in the world. I needed to sit for an hour or so and watch the water.

Water plays a central role in Scripture. In the beginning, the earth was covered with it; God sent rain to rid the world of humanity, except for Noah and his family. The first miracle of Jesus was to turn water into wine at a wedding feast and, Jesus was baptized by John in Jordan to begin his earthly ministry. Most of the Apostles were fishermen, and the Gospel stories took place around water.

In this Gospel passage from Matthew that we just heard, Jesus uses water as a central figure in the story. This, by the way, is one of my favorite passages, but I am taking a different look at it this time around. I usually talk about Peter and the faith and strength he had to step out of that boat. It must have taken all he had to lift his legs over the side and stand up and walk.

As interesting as that part of the story is, there is another perspective that often gets overlooked, and that is what Jesus does for Peter. So, lets back up a little……

Jesus had just finished a church service; coffee hour was over, and he was ready to go home and put his feet up. He sent the Apostles on ahead of him in a boat “to the other side,” and he went up the mountain to pray. Jesus, like most ministers, needs a little time alone after a church service to pray and recharge our batteries. Back in the pre-COVID days, I used to call this the PLN, Post Liturgical Nap. But I digress.

Scripture tells us that the boat was a considerable distance away and being buffeted by the waves. The sun had set, and the Apostles were sleeping as the boat made its way across. As the sun was rising, the Apostles, still asleep and just waking, looked out and saw Jesus coming to them walking on water. Now I can only imagine what they were thinking, just coming too from sleep and maybe they were seeing things, but no, it was Jesus.

Someone screamed out, “it’s a ghost,” but Jesus told them to take courage; it was really him, and all would be well. This would not be the last time Jesus tells his Apostles to relax. Now Peter being Peter stands up and says, “Lord, if it is, you tell me to come to you on the water.” Jesus was like, alright, come on.

So, Peter does his thing, starts walking, starts sinking. Now, this is where the camera angle changes, and the movie is now being shot over the shoulder of Jesus. Jesus reaches out his hand and lifts Peter out of the water and back to safety. Standing there, Jesus asks Peter why he had such little faith, and why did he doubt that he could walk on water. Jesus takes Peter back to the boat, they both climb in, the wind stops, and they have a worship service.

Now, notice a few things here. Jesus grants Peter’s request. Peter asked to come to Jesus, and the water and Jesus says okay. Peter starts to walk; his faith is strong, then he notices the world around him, and he begins to sink. He cries out for Jesus to save him, and Jesus once again grants his request. Jesus asks Peter about his lack of faith and his doubts, but he does it privately and not in front of the others. Jesus, standing there, holding Peter comforts him, he does not make fun of his or deride him; he has a private conversation with him.

When they get back in the boat, no one mentions what happened, including Jesus and Peter, and we never hear of this story again. Scripture says the wind was calm, and they had a worship service.

So, what is the point of the story?

Jesus comes to us in good times and bad; in fact, he never leaves us. Peter had the boldness of faith and took on a mission but then noticed the world around him, and he started to falter. Peter asked Jesus for help, and Jesus took him by the hand and led him back to safety. Jesus did not make fun of Peter or use his lack of faith as a moment to teach the others. He had a quiet word with Peter, and then they worshipped together and never spoke of it again.

When we are amid the wind and the rain when life is crashing over the sides of our boat or mission is starting to falter, ask Jesus for help and he will come and help you. Maybe, like Peter, he will lift you out of the water and bring you back to safety. Perhaps he will give you the strength to go on another day.

It is easy to lose faith these days. It is easy to see the waves crashing and start to sink into the sea of despair. The message of today’s Gospel is that it’s okay because Jesus is there to lift us up and bring us back to safety. Amen.