"For all the saints who from their labors rest, Who thee, by faith, before the world confessed, Thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest. Alleluia!" One of my favorite hymns, and maybe yours too, on one of my favorite church festivals.
A blessed All Saints' Day to you.
What is a saint? And who are all the saints?
This day has its origins in church tradition going all the way back to 360 AD, when the church in Syria observed the Festival of All Martyrs. And so the church has a special place in her heart, and in our history, for those who confessed the faith unto death. We hold them in high regard as examples of steadfastness under persecution.
But more than just the martyrs, we remember today all those Christians who have died in the faith. As our collect says, the "faithful people of all times and places – one holy communion the mystical body of Christ" And so that includes all of our loved ones who have gone before us into the nearer presence of Christ. Your mom and dad, maybe, or grandparents, maybe even a spouse. We remember, at church, each year, those of our own fellowship who have departed in faith this past year – and toll a bell in their memory. Not one of these is lost to Jesus!
But even more than the faithfully departed martyrs, and the more recently departed Christians, we recognize today that the whole church on earth, all of us believers in Christ, lay claim to the same designation. We are saints, all saints, in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Look at the multitude that John sees in his vision. Here we have a timeless picture of the church in her glory, victorious and celebrating their eternal reward as they stand in the very presence of God, before his throne, forever. They are from every tribe, nation, people and language. And what's maybe most notable about them is that white robe. Like Christ in his transfiguration, the multitude of saints radiate with glory. They are like him, after all, for they now see him as he is.
But it was not always this way. Our robes didn't always look so April fresh. Here on the ground, this side of eternity, we see the shabby rags that clothe us sinners. Like our first parents, Adam and Eve, whose makeshift garments of fig leaves didn't really do the job, so the filthy rags of our best good works don't take away the stain and stink of sin. We can't cover our own sins. We can't wash them away. We can't pretend they don't exist and live in denial either. Nor ought we minimize our sins, as if they are insignificant and infrequent. Rather, let's call a thing what it is: and say with David, in sin did my mother conceive me. I have sinned against God and man. I need redemption, salvation, I need you to create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.
And so he does. These are they, the great multitude, these are they who have washed their robes in the blood of the lamb. A strange detergent, this blood, but nothing is more pure and holy. The blood of Jesus, shed on the cross, shed to pay for and cover sin. To atone for the sins of the great multitude, really, the world. So that all who come to Christ, all who bring their filthy rags, their shabby sin-stained garments of shame, receive in exchange a robe of righteousness.
We see echoes of this in the church's traditions and ceremonies. The white baptismal gown. The clergy's white vestments. Even the funeral pall, a final reminder of the covering of our sins in Christ. Indeed, many a Christian funeral hears the wonderful words and promises of Revelation 7 concerning the saints in glory.
And here's another one. These are they who have come out of the great tribulation.
No one needs to tell you life is hard. We Christians are not immune to its difficulties. Our whole existence under sin, in a fallen world, always under the cloud of death – this life is the great tribulation. We are tempted constantly. We are troubled by persecution, nakedness, danger and sword. We face death all day long. I'm sure you have your own personal struggles, battles, demons.
Our Lord does not promise his saints a rose garden in this world of thorns. He rather calls us to take up our cross and follow him. He even promises, "in this world you will have tribulation." Christianity doesn't really have the greatest sales pitch, does it, in the eyes of the world. It offers crosses, and suffering and martyrdom. Christ calls his followers to endure hardship. He doesn't promise this life will be easy.
Ah, but he does promise hope beyond this vale of tears. Yes, he even promises to wipe away every tear. One day, when we stand before his throne, when we join that multitude, when we raise our voice in the victory chorus. One day, when death itself is cast away, never to trouble us again. When hunger and thirst are no more. When the sun doesn't strike us with its scorching heat. When all of life's sorrows and troubles and worries and heartaches are simply no more. We, too, will come out of the great tribulation. And what a day that will be!
"And when the fight is fierce the warfare long, steals on the ear the distant triumph song, and hearts are brave again and arms are strong. Alleluia!"
The picture of Revelation 7 is the church triumphant, in her glory, free from sin and ready to rest for eternity.
But here and now, the fight goes on. The church remains militant. The foe rages, the enemies surround us. And faithful warriors rise and fall. We give thanks to God for those that have fought the good fight and now rest from their labors. And we fight on. So...
For all the saints...
For Adam and Eve, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, for Moses and Elijah....
For all the saints...
For Peter, James and John, for Mary and Elizabeth, for Paul and Timothy and Apollos...
For all the saints...
For Augustine, Jerome and Hus, for Luther and Melanchthon and Chemnitz...
For all the saints...
(Names from Messiah)
And for all these saints... thy name, oh Jesus, be forever blest. Alleluia! Alleluia! Amen.
