November 6, 2011
A Crowded Table
- 1 John 3:1-3
- Dr. Teri Thomas
Do you remember the first funeral you ever attended?
I was about six years old when Uncle Nubby died.
He was my mom's second cousin, or some distant relation.
We only saw him once a year at some family reunion.
He died over Thanksgiving
while we were visiting my grandmother.
None of us had packed funeral clothes,
actually, I didn't even know what they meant by funeral clothes.
At the local discount store I learned quickly
that funeral clothes were
ugly, scratchy, dark colored dresses for me and my sister,
some long pants and a button up shirt for my brother.
Dad didn't think we should bother going
and we certainly didn't need new clothes.
Mom thought it would be good for us.
We were old enough to see a dead person
and since we didn't know Uncle Nubby very well,
this would be a good one to start with.
I remember that it was difficult to see in the funeral home.
Lots of old people were standing around talking
and a few sat crying in chairs by the wall.
There wasn't enough light
and big, heavy drapes covered up all the windows.
It smelled funny.
People kept walking over to a box by the wall
and looking at something inside.
Curiosity got the best of me.
I walked right up, peered over the edge,
and found myself face to face with dead Uncle Nubby.
I'd never seen him in a suit before, or with makeup on.
I stared to be sure he wasn't still breathing.
I wanted to ask him if it hurt,
if he was sacred,
if he could fly like an angel or a ghost,
if he knew we were there.
As I reached out to touch his carefully folded hands
my mother pulled me away and sent me to a chair.
We don't have to be six years old to wonder what happens to people when they die.
We all wonder.
We all have questions.
So far in 2011 we have had 37 members of Northminster die.
When that happens we gather as family and friends
and we reflect on the person's life.
We console ourselves with promises from scripture
and turn to our faith and our faith community
for comfort and assurance.
In my Father's house are many rooms...
Nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord...
The Lord is my shepherd...
Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you...
I am the resurrection and the life says the Lord...
Today is All Saints Sunday
and we remember those folks again.
I am not talking saints considered to be miracle workers by the Pope
or those deified by the church.
I am talking the saints we live with, work with and worship with every week.
This is the standard New Testament designation for saints:
the forgiven who know it,
act upon it and live by grace
without angling for stained-glass-window status.
The late William Stringfellow described saints as
"those men and women who relish the event of life as a gift
and who realize that the only way to honor such a gift is to give it away."
Once we have been baptized, we are saints.
Our calling from that day forward is to exercise our sainthood,
practice it, and live it out.
And once we are saints
we have a reserved seat at this table.
It is there for us all through our lives,
it is there for us even in our death.
When we gather today to celebrate this sacrament
we are here,
Christ is present,
and all those saints who came before us are in attendance as well.
Their Deeds Follow by Maya Angelou
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words unsaid,
promises, walks never taken...
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always irregularly.
Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored,
never to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed.
We can be. Be and be better.
For they existed.
Let us remember all the saints in our prayers-
O God, We remember the great ancestors of our faith,
from Abraham and Sarah, to Paul and Phoebe:
Ancestors of the faith, we remember you.
We remember the prophets and priests,
the ministers and teachers who have taught us the way of God:
Teachers of the faith, we remember you.
We remember our grandparents and parents, aunts and uncles, those who have gone before us in our lifetime:
Family of our faith, we remember you.
We lift up the memories of children and grandchildren, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives and parents whose lives ended too soon:
Those close in our heart, we remember you.
We lift up to You, O God, the names of those we have lost in this past year from our lives, knowing that they are with Your heart forever.
As I read these names, candles will be lit for them to remember and give thanks for their life.
Marjorie Farmer, Charlotte McClenny, JoAnn Spencer, Thelma Moore, Algie Oldham, Jr., Ann Jacobson, Helen Zornes, Sandy Taylor, Violet Ward, Herb Grimes, Barbara Anderson, Jean Schroeder, Victoria Cox, John Egger, Martha Corbett, Betty Sandifer, Genevieve Colby, Minnie Sexton, Marjorie Rainey, Patsy Black, Carolyn Pickering Lautner, Carl Sputh, Paul Bennett, Mary Eleanor Stuart, Herb Spencer, Ann Schmidt Walker, Ed Cornelius, Vora Jean Watkins, Barbara Bilby, Beulah Sharp, Ann Egger, Charlotte Berns, Betty Bailey, Donald Ream, Jane Prather, Rosemary Anderson, Howard McKinley.
We celebrate the lives of those we have named, O God, and lift up many more names in our hearts.
Family of God, we remember you, and we honor you.
We know you are with us in the spirit of worship,
and you will not be forgotten.
We give thanks, O God,
for all who have gone on to join with You beyond this life.
We trust in the hope of resurrection and the promise of new life in Christ,
and know that in our grief and celebration, O God,
You are with us through it all, and we are not left alone.
In the name of Christ, in whom love lives forever, we pray.
Amen.