A Sermon for All Hallows' Eve
Johanna Morrigan
1 Samuel 28:3-25
Job 4:12-21
Ezekiel 37:1-14
Revelation 12:1-12
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer.
When I was a kid growing up in Missouri, October 31 was Halloween - a time to dress up and go to the neighbor's houses trick or treating. It was a rather magical night, filled with laughter, candy, and enough spooky things to keep it just a bit unnerving. And probably for most children today, October 31 is still Halloween - a bit more high tech; unfortunately a need for more safety precautions against razor blades embedded in apples - but for most children still a rather magical and spooky night.
Growing up in a good, sensible Presbyterian home, I knew absolutely nothing about the origins of Halloween and I had never heard of All Hallow's Eve or All Saint's Day, and if I had heard about them, they would have been quickly categorized as too Romanish or too popish.
So I decided to do a bit of digging to see what I could find out about it.
Many scholars believe that the commemoration of all the saints on Nov.1 began in Ireland, spread from there to England, and then to the European continent. Historical documents attest to its having been adopted in Rome by early in the 9th Century.
However the desire of Christians to express the intercommunion of the living and the dead in the Body of Christ, and especially of those who suffered martyrdom was much older than the early middle ages.
Gregory Thaumaturgis, writing before the year 270, refers to a festival of all the martyrs, though he doesn't date it. Ephrem and John Chrysostom of the 4th Century both refer to a festival of All Saints observed on the first Sunday after Pentecost.
So the roots of this evening's service stretch far back to the early years of the church. In another way it goes even further back into antiquity. Evening services like this, and like Christmas Eve and the Saturday Night Vigil before Easter are reminiscent of our Jewish roots when Sabbath began at sundown in the evening, and a day was counted from sundown to sundown.
As I mused over what I had learned about All Hallow's Eve and All Saint's Day, I found myself wondering ..........
But what about those who have gone before us - that died without repentance, without having received Jesus, the Christ, as their Lord and Saviour? What about the unrepentant murderer executed on death's row? How is his mother to think about her son's soul and his salvation? What about the caring and kind neighbor down the road who is an avowed atheist? What about my dear great-uncle Frank who always had a gentle smile, a wink, and a joke ready for me? He just about never went to church, nor did he ever talk about God- and he was very harshly judged for these failings during the sermon at his funeral. How was my great-aunt Nellie to think about his eternal rest when the preacher was soundly condemning him for not going to church or spreading the word of God?
There are many in today's world who would say - they had their chance, and it's too late. God has closed the gates of Heaven to them - and they shall perish in the pits of hell for eternity.
Our Roman sisters and brothers would most likely talk about purgatory and the need to say novenas and to light candles so that they might eventually be permitted to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.
One of the few similarities I have noticed between Presbyterians and Episcopalians is that is that we just don't seem to want to talk about it. The ideas of Satan and hell seem a bit superstitious, too unpalatable and almost primitive. So we seem to rather uncomfortably ignore the whole business altogether.
But it seemed to me that we must have some thoughts on this question which has probably filled more books than were in the old Carnegie Library. So, even though I may still be a baby Episcopalian, I have learned some things very well. When in doubt about something, go to the Book of Common Prayer. I started out by looking at what we say about the departed in the Prayers of the People. There seems to be some effort to include ALL of the departed, though saints are usually singled out for special attention.
Some forms seem to push the whole thing off on God - to let God figure out what to do with unrepentant sinners. For example, in Form IV we say, "We commend to your mercy all who have died, that your will for them may be fulfilled." Okay, God. We don't know what should be done with them, so you figure it out. After all, you are God.
In other forms we seem to almost petition God, to remind God of God's promise of salvation to all of God's children. In Form VI we say, "We pray for all who have died, that they may have a place in your eternal kingdom."
But then I read the collect for All Saint's Day - and things became rather muddled again.......
Almighty God, you have knit together your elect in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of your Son Christ our Lord: Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints in all virtuous and Godly living, that we may come to those ineffable joys that you have prepared for those who truly love you...........seems like we just left out the unrepentant murderer, the kind atheist neighbor, and maybe even my dear old Uncle Frank too. So maybe they aren't God's children. Maybe only certain elect ones, and those who are virtuous enough are worthy to be called God's chosen and to be saved.
Yet when we open our ears to Jesus' teaching, over and over again he confronts the elect and openly pious ones of his day - he calls them hypocrites. The parable of the Good Samaritan when the pious priest and Levite cross to the other side of the road to avoid being made unclean by contact with the unfortunate robbery victim, is only one of numerous teachings of Jesus which repeat this theme - it is the humble, the poor, and those who are miserable sinners, like tax collectors and prostitutes that find favor in Jesus' eyes.
So what are we to do with all these seemingly contradictory perspectives? We Anglicans pride ourselves on accepting and embracing diversity and differences. We can each choose. We can adopt the perspective that God can somehow be persuaded to receive ALL who have died into the Kingdom of Heaven, an idea that is not totally unlike the idea of purgatory and intercessory prayer for the deceased.
Or we can choose the idea that some make it, and some just don't. After all, how much can God be expected to put up with? Or perhaps reincarnation might be an option - we just keep coming back until we finally do it right.
None of these choices seemed to fit very well for me. I wanted to know what the Gospel - the Good News of Jesus, the Christ, tells us about all of this. The kernel of the Gospel is embedded in all of the Eucharistic Prayers in one form or another. The version in Prayer A is perhaps most familiar:
Christ has died.Have you ever wondered what happened during those three days that Jesus was dead? Where was he? What was he doing during those 3 days. It seems to me that we pretty much skip that part. He died, and then he rose. But that was 3 days later. What went on during those 3 days? And could it shed any light on the possible fate of the unrepentant murderer, the atheist neighbor, and my Uncle Frank?
Christ has risen
Christ will come again.
So back to the Prayer Book I went. Perhaps the Creeds could give us some hints. The Nicene Creed reads "....he suffered death and was buried. On the third day he rose again, in accordance with the scriptures." Not much of a clue there. The Apostle's Creed reads "...He...was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended to the dead. On the third day he rose again." He descended to the dead. What does that mean exactly? In Jewish thought that place of the dead would be Sheol - a place where departed spirits were believed to await the coming of the Messiah. But the Creeds were written long after the schism between the Jews and the Christians - and Christians did not retain the notion of Sheol - though it may bear some resemblance to purgatory. So I decided to look further and found the Creed of St. Athanasius among the historical documents. Toward the end of this creed we read that Christ "...suffered for our salvation, descended into hell, rose again the third day from the dead." Well, that certainly is more specific. But we don't use that Creed anymore. So I looked in the Articles of Religion and read Article III -On the going down of Christ into Hell. As Christ died for us, and was buried; so also is it to be believed, that he went down into Hell."
That seems pretty emphatic. We ARE TO BELIEVE that Christ went down into hell. How come our creeds seem to skirt around this belief? In William Snydor's The Prayer Book Through the Ages I discovered that the phrase "he descended into Hell" had indeed once been how the Apostle's Creed was read.
I read further that through out the revisions of our American Episcopal Book of Common Prayer, there is a long history of debate about what to do with this clause. In 1789 it was permissible to omit it. It could be replaced with the words, "He went into the place of departed spirits."
In the 1892 and 1928 revisions of the Prayer Book, the "descent into Hell" clause could no longer be omitted altogether, though there was a rubric inserted to explain that this meant that Jesus went into the place of departed spirits. By 1979, the "descent into Hell" clause was dropped completely.
I was not very successful in trying to ferret out the reason for all of this fuss - except that the Church fathers were evidently unsure of the meaning of the clause.
However it is quite clear that for most of the church's history, the belief was that Jesus spent those three days in hell. And if that is so, what was he doing there? Was he suffering the fiery torments of hell? What exactly do we mean by hell? The Catechism defines hell as eternal death in our rejection of God. So did Jesus divest himself of his divinity and experience the loss of God? Perhaps. Perhaps this was his final sacrifice.
But somehow that interpretation is just not very convincing to me. Jesus, the Christ - man and divine in one. How would the salvation of God's beloved children be hastened by the God in Jesus, the Christ, abandoning him in that place where God's presence is most needed? The place where we die in our rejection of God. Haven't we all been there at one time or another in this life? When we have turned our backs on God and found ourselves lost, alone, frightened, and miserable?
After all, what was Jesus' job? Why was he here on this earth walking and talking and eating with us in the first place? In John, Jesus explains it this way......
...for I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me. And this is the will of him who sent me, that I shall lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day. John 6:38 & 39.Jesus is to lose NOTHING - and he is to raise ALL on the last day. Isn't it perhaps possible that Jesus descended into hell to bring hope, to bring the Good News to those most in need of it? To those who had turned away from the love and mercy of God and were lost, alone, frightened, and miserable?
It has always struck me as the height of human arrogance and foolishness that we are so inclined to believe that the possibility of all growth, of all creation, of all grace, of all transformation suddenly ceases with our physical death. Jesus' task was to lose nothing - to lose no one.
Can we really believe that God - the Creator of all things, who loved us so much that he sent his only son to suffer an agonizing death on a cross, would not also send him into the very pits of hell to reach his beloved and cherished children? Is there a parent here who would turn their back on their child forever? Is there anything your child could do that would stop you from loving that child and doing everything in your power to save that child from a physical death? Do we really suppose that God's love is any less?
Do we really believe that the Good News of Jesus, the Christ, is too feeble to enter the gates of hell and conquer that eternal death in our rejection of God?
Jesus is the Good Shepherd. He will always leave the 99 to find the 100th sheep who is lost. Do we suppose that our physical death or the fires of hell are going to stop him from carrying out that mission? Do we believe that he will ever give up before he has brought every last sheep home? Including the unrepentant murderer, the avowed atheist, and my Uncle Frank?
Perhaps because I have wonderful memories of bottle-feeding spring lambs at my grandparent's farm, the picture of Jesus holding the lamb and shepherd's staff and surrounded by sheep has always been one of my favorites.
There is a charming old poem written in the mid -1800's by Mrs. Elizabeth C. Clifton. It was set to music by IRA David Sankey in 1874. It is titled "The Ninety and Nine" and It goes like this...........
There were ninety and nine that safely lay
In the shelter of the fold;
But one was out on the hills away,
Far off from the gates of gold,
Away on the mountains wild and bare,
Away from the shepherd's tender care.
"Lord, thou hast here thy ninety and nine:
Are they not enough for thee"?
But the shepherd made answer: "This of mine
Has wandered away from me;
And although the road be rough and steep
I go to the desert to find my sheep."
But none of the ransomed ever knew
How deep were the waters crossed,
Nor how hard was the night that
the Lord passed through
Ere he found his sheep that was lost.
Out in the desert he heard its cry,
Sick and helpless, and ready to die.
"Lord, whence are those blood drops all the way,
That mark out the mountain track?"
"They were shed for one who had gone astray
Ere the shepherd could bring him back."
"Lord, whence are the hands so rent and torn?"
"They are pierced tonight by many a thorn."
But all through the mountains, thunder-riven,
And up from the rocky steep,
There rose a cry to the gate of heaven,
"Rejoice! I have found my sheep!"
And the angels echoed around the throne
"Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!"
Could not the Lord bring back his own from anywhere? From a mountain or a desert or the pit of hell?
Amen.