Spirit of theHeartland

Ecclesiasticus 44:1-10,13-14
Revelation 7:2-4,9-17
Matthew 5:1-12
Psalm 149

These are the saints we're talking about – the famous ones and the "others" of whom "there is no memory." We're celebrating All Saints' Day. It's a time to remember our ancestors in the church, those who have gone before us in the faith. At the church in Sauk Centre, our 94-year-old "tribal elder" Ivy calls them the "Friendly Haunts." And we imagine them commenting on the service, rolling their eyes at my fancy vestments, or groaning when I stumble over the words.

We have some wonderful saints to remember in this church. I've been reading vestry minutes from one hundred years ago and there are some really good stories. But don't need to read old vestry notes to find out about these people, we can just look around the church and find some memories of our saints. Look at the names on our windows.

That window's Bishop Whipple, the first Bishop of Minnesota. He made the long, hard trek up here to minister to the Indians at Gull Lake.

And I've got pictures, too. The Rev. Steele Peake (great name!) our very first priest back in 1858.

And the Rev. Francis Alleyne, who was rector when we built this church building in 1903 to replace our old one from 1869.

But to be a saint in this parish, you don't need to wear one of these funny collars. You can read the names of our founding saints in these windows: Tanner, Rosenmeier, Stillwell, Martin, and Rothwell (that one's Bill's grandfather).

And there are some familiar names too. Lovdahl, then and now. And even a Paul Gillespie (though my husband Paul doesn't use my name, Gillespie) but no relation. There were women, too. The first members of this parish were all women: Catherine Tanner, Lydia Cash, Nancy Stillwell, and Mrs. Proctor. Tucked away in the middle of one of the ladies' guilds' financial records I even found someone's list of wedding gifts from 1900. Bishop Whipple was on that list, too.

Our parish remembers some child saints, too. The big window of Jesus and the children is in memory of fourteen-year-old Martha Tanner. And some are remembered here without names. There's a window from the choir, with no names. And one from "The Traveling Men"? (Click on either of these windows for detail.) Salesmen who traveled from town to town by train, often spent the weekend in Little Falls and attended worship here and gave this window of the Good Samaritan.

Oh, those were the "Good Old Days" of our church. Seems like everyone can remember times when things were better than right now. But, you know what I found out in those vestry notes? They had the same problems we do:

• They couldn't find enough money to pay their priest.
• They tried to figure out ways to attract new members.
• They disagreed about getting a new building – this one.
• And they worried about how to pay for it.

So if there were similar problems, then and now, we must have saints to deal with those problems now, too.

Saints, you know, aren't perfect people. We just sang about them as "just folk like me." And some of them, it seems, were downright annoying. Most people's favorite "saint" Santa Claus, is a descendent of a fourth century bishop, St. Nicholas. Now there is a legend about the bishop tossing gold into the stockings of some needy girls. But there's also a story that at a the Council of Nicea, he got so involved in a debate about whether there ever was a time when Christ did not exist, that he punched some guy out. Jolly Old St. Nicholas! Pretty far from perfect.

Saints, in all their imperfection, are people who try to do what they think God wants them to do. That's us, too. So, for sure, we've got some saints today in our church: We've still got a Lovdahl or two on the Vestry. And a McCrudden as both warden and organist.

We got our saintly team ministers. And if that makes you think, "Well, this total ministry stuff is new!" think again .... In the early church, everyone had a ministry. And even more recently, when there was no priest to do the job, a team of ministers filled in, and Saint Berguson and Saint Lemme officiated at services here and in Royalton.

And today we will commission our Lay Eucharistic Ministers. They are even ""robed in white" (though I hope their training wasn't such an ordeal). Saints come in all sizes, too. We have itty bitty saints, like little Saint Whitney, who was baptized last month. And Saint Nina.

Everyone who tries to follow Jesus is a saint. So we're all "traveling men," like those unnamed saints who gave the Good Samaritan window.

Saints traveling together. That's really what the church is. The church not a building. The church is a bunch of saints traveling together, following Jesus.

Yesterday, at our Diocesan Convention, some of us learned some helpful rules for this kind of traveling together. From his visits to the desert in Israel, the Rev. Dr. Richard LeSueur suggested four rules for traveling in the wilderness. They're pretty much the same rules that I use when I take people into the Boundary Waters. They are good rules for the church as a bunch of saints traveling together, following Jesus. In fact, they're good rules for the journey through life – everyone's journey will have some wilderness spots in it. So, Four Rules for the Wilderness:

1 – Never go alone.
Jesus sends his friends out "two by two." Our Traveling Men's window reminds us to be Good Samaritan's for each other. Yesterday, I tried to travel to diocesan convention alone, and I had a flat tire. Sure, I could have changed tires all by myself, but I'd have been late without the help of a friendly Good Samaritan named Shane. Good Samaritans help each other along. They have compassion or mercy on the needs of others.

2 – Take only what you can carry.
Both Richard and I have had people show up for wilderness retreats with all kinds of heavy stuff: bible, prayer book, guitar, journal ... Carry it all and by the time you get there, if you get there at all, you'll be too tired to use it. Churches often try to carry an overload too: old prayer books, gestures that no longer mean anything, "the way we always did it" .... And it's hard to let go of those treasures, but when we cannot carry it all, if we are to survive we must leave them behind and grieve for them.

3 - Expect anxiety.
When you travel, things are different. The unknown is scary. Out in that unknown wilderness, we may find we are different from each other and even fight about it. That's the hard part about traveling together, whether you're a church or a family, or friends: It's hard to figure out how to stay together through the disagreements. But we can do it. I see from the old notes that this church has done it many, many times already. And so, probably, has your family.

4 - You have to wait.
Traveling takes time. It took forty years to get through the wilderness. We get tired of the wait and want the good old days back. But we must wait for God. And God's time isn't always our time. Remember that God is in charge here, not us.

All these saints in the past of our church walked through the wilderness. Most of them knew these rules, even if they had to find them out the hard way.

We, the new saints of the church, can learn from their travels. When we come her for Communion, the "friendly haunts" join with us in thanking God. "Angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven" You know the names: Whipple, Peake, Rothwell, Martin, and Tanner. Your great grandmother and that uncle you barely remember. All those who traveled along the Way that Jesus shows us. We call it the "Communion of Saints."

And when we new saints leave this place, whether our journey is to a familiar, homey place or out into the wilderness, Jesus still walks with the church – that bunch of saints traveling together, following Jesus.

So whenever you find yourself in a wilderness, and each time you look at our ‘Traveling Men" window, remember the four rules of the wilderness:

1 - Never go alone.
2 - Take only what you can carry.
3 - Expect anxiety.
4 - You have to wait

Visit our History Page for more information.
Go to Sermon Index