Christ the King-Epiphany, Wilbraham

The Rev. Martha S. Sipe

November 3, 2024 / All Saints Sunday

Isaiah 25:6-9; Revelation 21:1-6a; John 11:32-44 

When Mark and I sat down this week to go over the mechanics for today’s worship, he asked me how I envision the mood of an All Saints service.  It’s a really good question – one that I’ve spent a good bit of time thinking about over the years.  What I shared with him – and what I share now with you – is that I approach All Saints in much the same way I approach a funeral service.  What I mean by that is this:  it’s about both grief and hope.  A funeral service without any acknowledgment of grief just doesn’t ring true.  You have to name the pain.  But it’s also true that a funeral without hope denies our belief in the resurrection to eternal life.  Funerals give voice to our grief and also turn us toward hope.  And that’s what I hope that we can do today – acknowledge our grief and remind ourselves of hope as we remember those who have died by lighting candles in their memory.

I suspect that I will see tears lurking in the corners of many eyes as you remember.  Perhaps your tears will be at the ready because your grief is recent.  For others, tears will be close to the surface not because your grief is recent, but because there are so many people that you remember on this day.  And for still others, you may only have one name on your heart, and that person may have died years ago, but you know as well as I do that grief really has no expiration.  We never fully get over some losses.

To those of you with tears in your eyes, I want to say just two things to point you toward hope.  The first is this:  Jesus understands our grief.  When we see him in this morning’s gospel lesson, he is in tears over the death of his friend Lazarus.  And might I point out that our Lord is not subtly dabbing with a handkerchief at a tear in the corner of his eye.  No, he is full-out weeping, so great is his grief.  I highlight Jesus’ weeping to you to remind you that Jesus really does understand.  He empathizes with us in the depth of our grief and sorrow.  He knows how low the human spirit can go.  He is acquainted with the pain of loss.  He understands.  And we are not alone.

But the second thing I want to say to you is, I think, even more important in leading us toward  hope is this:  our tears will end.  This is the hope, the joy, the victory that we also enact this day.  We know that one day, our faces will be dry.  That is the promise that we hear from the book of Revelation – that God will wipe every tear from our eyes, and that mourning and crying and pain will be no more.  Why?  Because of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  That promise of tears wiped away is already being enjoyed by those who have passed on before us.  No longer do they feel the sadness and pain that we do, we who are still on our life-long journey of faith.  And just as those who have gone before us have been released from their crying and pain, so will we.

But until that time, until we are reunited with our loved ones in heaven, until we have gone beyond the grief and sorrow of this world, then let us be signs of hope to one another.  Let us wipe away each other’s tears.  Let us comfort and support each other in our grief.  Let us light candles to remind ourselves – and each other – of the hope that Jesus’ resurrection ignites within us.