A sermon preached at Niles Discovery Church, Fremont, California,
on Sunday, November 1, 2015, by the Rev. Jeffrey Spencer.
Scriptures: John 11:32-44 and Isaiah 25:6-9
Copyright © 2015 by Jeffrey S. Spencer
Four days. Lazarus had been dead and buried for four days by the time Jesus shows up. If only he had come earlier, before Lazarus died, when he was sick. He could have saved him. But, no; he was delayed. No wonder Mary comes to Jesus weeping. It is not just that Lazarus is dead. It is that she feels let down by the one who she knew was a healer.
Jesus, too, begins to weep. People assume it is because of Lazarus’ death. Jesus must have loved him deeply, and now he weeps. I always thought it was Mary’s grief that moved Jesus to tears. He sees Mary weep and he cries with her. That’s how I experience God. God doesn’t protect us from the losses and pains of life. Instead, God cries with us. God feels our pain with us.
The people think Jesus is weeping because of his own loss. “Where have you laid him?” he asks. “Come, we’ll show you,” and they take him to a cave with a stone rolled in front of it. “Take away the stone,” Jesus direct them. Martha, Lazarus’ sister, tries to stop him: “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” Or as the King James Version translates it, “Lord, by this time he stinketh: for he hath been dead four days.”
Jesus convinces them to roll away the stone, and he prays, and then he calls in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” And the dead man hobbles out because he is still bound in the burial cloths. And Jesus commands the crowd to unbind him and let him go.
This may seem like a strange reading for All Saints’ Day. I don’t recall anyone every suggesting I pray to St. Lazarus. In fact, I didn’t even know he was considered a Saint in the Roman Catholic Church until I looked it up. And as far as I can tell, in the Roman Catholic pantheon of saints, he’s not the patron saint of anybody or anything (though my research is hardly exhaustive). So why this reading?
Well, to start with, because today is a day that lifts before us the stark reality of our mortality. Today, we celebrate all those who have died – not expired, or passed away, or who we have lost (like a favorite glove) – but rather those who have died … in faith. Later, at the communion table, we will name those from our congregation who have died in the past year. We will pause to remember them and others who have died as we celebrate the body of Christ.
We will celebrate those who have died, but the liturgical color is not the black of Good Friday and mourning. Today the liturgical colors are white and gold, the colors of Easter. “After all, we gather to worship the One who was given power over death; the One, as [we heard in our Gospel lesson], who raised Lazarus to life; the One who’s own death and resurrection, in fact, gives witness to the trustworthiness of the promise made in the first … reading that God will one day bring to an end the reign of death, cause mourning and suffering to cease, and wipe every tear from our eyes.”
Today, we don’t just remember those who have died. We remember that they and we are united with Christ. We acknowledge that reality every time we celebrate the sacrament of Baptism. In baptism, we are buried with Jesus into death so that, just as Jesus was raised to life, we might walk in newness of life – to paraphrase Paul’s letter to the Romans (5:3-4). “And this means at least two things for us … First, death no longer terrifies us. Promised a share of Christ’s resurrection, we can look even death in the eye and not blink. For this reason, while we mourn the death of our loved ones, … we also celebrate their triumph, their victory, as they now rest from their labors and live with Christ in glory.
“Second, and perhaps more importantly, life no longer terrifies us either. … Our whole life is now sanctified – that is, made holy and given a purpose – through God’s promise to be with us and for us and to use us and all of our gifts to God’s own glory.
“Here, in fact, we perceive the true significance of the name of this day – All Saints’ Day – far more clearly. Saints are not only those persons in the Bible or Church history who did great things. Nor are Saints only those who died for the faith. Saints are not even only those who are of such great moral courage, kindness or discipline that they set examples for the rest of us. Rather, saints are also – and especially – all those who have been baptized into Christ.”
“And if you have any doubt of this, take the time to read … Paul’s letters to the Church at Corinth. … In these letters, Paul at many points scolds the Corinthians for their lack of faith, for their poor stewardship, for their shoddy treatment of one another, for their divisive one-ups-manship, and for their offensive moral behavior. Nevertheless, when addressing this poor excuse for a Christian congregation, he refers to them regularly as ‘Saints.’ Well, now, c’mon: If this is true for the Corinthians, then so also is it true for us.”
Now I don’t say this to put pressure on you. I’m not calling you a saint to make you feel like you have to be perfect. In fact, I want to be clear that you don’t have to be perfect. I’m just saying that if you call yourself a Christian, I get to call you a saint. You are a holy one, set aside by God for the fullness of life.
And, at the same time, I want to acknowledge that there is the additional cloud of witnesses, the communion of saints who have formed us. And this is where All Saints’ Day and our pledge campaign’s theme intersect. Last week, Pastor Brenda focused on the first word in this year’s pledge campaign: welcome. Today, we focus on the second word: grow. And the growth that I think most connects to All Saints’ Day is our growth as disciples of Jesus. These are the saints I want to turn to now.
This past year, several of my saints, several people who helped me grow in faith, died. Now it happens that two of these saints have reputations far beyond my own life and I am hardly the only one whose growth as a person of faith was touched by them. Marcus Borg was a professor and author who changed my whole approach to confirmation class with a single lecture. His book, The Heart of Christianity, has become a touchstone of organized thought about being a Christian for me and will be seen as a classic to help thinking, rational people understand how they can be Christians without checking the brains at the door.
Phyllis Tickle – aside from having one of the coolest names in theology – opened up to me the goodness in change, even radical change, in the church through her lectures and through her book, The Great Emergence.
Two other much less famous saints – at least they’re saints for me – who also died this year. Dena Hokom modeled for me the importance of the ongoing wrestling match of faith. She kept thinking and pondering and questioning her faith right up to the end, and while at times that made her feel less faithful (questions and doubts have a way of doing that), I believe it was an act of faithfulness to participate in that wrestling.
Betty Harris was my aunt. She was a singer who encouraged my singing. She loved classical music, which was almost always sacred music. And she encouraged me (probably to her own surprise) to let the music teach me and form me.
And I have to mention my mom. This summer, I passed the date where she’s been dead for more than half of my life. Yet her impact on my spiritual journey lives on in so many ways. She modeled giving; she taught the importance of community; she modeled listening and pastoral care (not that she would have ever called what she did ‘pastoral care’). She was a woman of compassion. And despite my troublesome adolescence, I never questioned her love for me.
And the saints for me are not just those who have died. For instance, Brad Ellis. You may recognize him as the character “Brad” from the TV series Glee. For me, he’s a friend from high school and church youth group. When I told him a few years ago about the role he played in my spiritual development during our high school years, he told me, “I may simply have been the rock you tripped over.” Well, whatever. He’s on my list of saints.
And then, quite recently, this year in fact, another more famous person helped me grow and I now include him in my roll call of saints: Bishop John Shelby Spong. Spong has helped me re-embrace the Gospel of John in his book The Fourth Gospel. His thesis is that none of the Gospel of John is history. It is a story told to teach theology, or better yet to teach discipleship. Many of the characters are completely symbolic, and he puts Lazarus on this list. “[Lazarus] is a mythological character, a symbol of those who see, of those who respond and of those who are transformed. He is the archetype of the Jesus movement. He represents the ones who are born of the spirit, the ones who are able to taste and experience, to share in the new life that Jesus came to bring. He is the ‘Lazarus’ who has passed from death into life. The one who knows that to be in Christ is to have the life of God flow through him as the life of the vine flows through the branches.”
And with this understanding of Lazarus, that he is the archetype of a disciple of Jesus, I can think of no better reading for All Saints’ Day.
There is one other saint I want to mention: Mister Rogers. In 1999, he was inducted into the Television Hall of Fame. In his acceptance speech, which was given to an audience who were largely people involved in the television industry, he invited his listeners to think about what they do. I’ll let him finish up the sermon.
(The portion of this video screened was from the 7:47 mark, to the 10:43.O)
 See “Lazarus,” American Catholic, http://www.americancatholic.org/Features/Saints/saint.aspx?id=1232.
 David Lose, “All Saints’ Sunday B: Look Twice,” … in the Meantime, http://www.davidlose.net/2015/10/all-saints-sunday-b-look-twice/ (posted and accessed 26 October 2015).
 John Shelby Spong, The Fourth Gospel: Tales of a Jewish Mystic (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2013), 251.