Ecclesiasticus 44:1-10,13-14
Revelation 7:2-4,9-17
Matthew 5:1-12
Psalm 149
Shh...
Listen...
Can you hear them?
Can you hear their laughter and tears, their rage and their joy?
Listen...
Can you hear them?
Nestled between our belief in the holy catholic church and the forgiveness of sins, we confess our belief in the communion of saints each time we repeat the Apostles' Creed. What is it exactly that we're confessing?
That God's favored are with God and the angels in heaven?
Or
That those who embraced Jesus Christ as their Lord and Saviour have been let in through the pearly gates?
Or
That all those who tried to live a life of faith are now standing in the presence of God - both those remembered for their outstanding deeds, as well as those who lived simple and quiet lives - whose names have been long forgotten.
Our Book of Common Prayer defines the communion of saints in the Catechism like this:
The communion of saints is the whole family of God, the living and the dead, those whom we love and those whom we hurt, bound together in Christ by sacrament, prayer, and praise.
So evidently those of us here on earth now are part of this communion too. It includes those who have gone before, those of us who are here now, and presumably those who are yet to come - we are all part of this ‘great cloud of witnesses' called the communion of saints.
But what does that mean? What difference does it make in our daily lives?
As I pondered that question, what came to my mind was the traditional way of life practiced by many of the native peoples of this country..
It's often expressed in the admonition to remember that every decision we make today will affect all those who follow ... so when we make a decision, we would do well to think about how it will affect our children and their children to the seventh generation.
The communion of saints reminds us that we aren't created in a vacuum - but that we are part of a creation that has existed for millions of years; and that we have the capacity to affect how, and perhaps if that creation will evolve...
Many years ago Cedar and I took a trip to Bear Butte in South Dakota. Bear Butte has been a sacred place back through centuries of time. Most recently it has been a holy place of the Lakota peoples. Cedar and I spent a quiet evening walking on trails and across small bridges which had obviously been carefully planned and lovingly tended. The trails were designed in such a way as to preserve delicate plant life that is no longer found in many other places.
Circles of sage and rocks marked places of sacred ceremony. Faded ribbons and tattered scraps of cloth were tied to branches, tokens of prayers that had been lifted up to the Great Spirit. It was the first place that I think I really experienced the communion of saints.
Somehow, at a level that I cannot explain, I could hear those who had gone before. Those who had brought their love of the Creator to this place. Those who had preserved this place for the ones who would follow them. It was as though the sound of their drums lingered in the air, and their songs still drifted across the grasses. There was no doubt in my mind that Cedar and I were walking on holy ground.
Today we are on holy ground as well.
Shh..
Listen...
Can you hear them?
Those who have gone before? Can you hear the murmur of their prayers, the rhythm of old hymns, the lilt of the Sanctus or the Kyrie?
As we gather here in this wonderful old church building, it isn't hard to remember those who have gone before, those who have lovingly tended this place, preserving it for us who have followed them. It's not hard to know that we are on holy ground.
But what about elsewhere? What about when we're driving down the freeway or cheering at a Vikings game or running around the malls trying to get our Christmas shopping done? What about when we're doing the dishes or vacuuming or cleaning out the tub? What about when we're mowing the lawn or painting the house? Are those who have gone before with us there too? Are those places holy ground?
It's harder to find the communion of saints in those ordinary places, in the humdrum of our daily lives.
I wonder how different our lives would be if we made a conscious effort to remember that we're part of that great communion.. That wherever we are, whomever we are with, whatever we are doing - we are on holy ground. Ground that has been tended - or not tended - by those who have gone before.
How might our decisions change if we look at each place that our lives touch and ask ourselves - has this place been preserved and tended by our forebears - or has it been pushed aside in the interest of some kind of expediency? Can I still find the holy ground here? Did those who went before preserve it for me?
What kind of difference would it make in the lives of those who will follow us if we made a conscious effort to remember that everything we do today could preserve a sacred trail for them to follow. We could leave a legacy of holy ground for those to come. Or we could destroy and then rebuild creating roadblocks and hazards - making it seem almost impossible to find the holy ground it once was.
The next time you're at the grocery store or picking up the dry cleaning, try being quiet for just a moment and
Listen..
Can you hear them?
Can you hear their laughter and tears, their rage and their joy?
They're there... somewhere.. Calling you to remember that you're among the saints of old. They're reminding you that you're walking on holy ground.
Will the saints of tomorrow be able to hear you when they stop to listen?
AMEN.