The Cruel Sea is on its way out – a reflection for All Saints Sunday

All Saints Sunday

Some made heavy weather through this sermon for All Saints Sunday in spite of the very well read scripture for the day – Revelation 21:1-6a. (My fault.) It was the detail in the text of the sea being no more which caught my eye and triggered my imagination. It’s not often we preach from Revelation. It’s the last word in our scripture, the last book that graphically seems to sum up the ways in which the Bible as a whole reveals God in the troubles of our lives.

All Saints Sunday – November 3rd 2024

Every grandparent of young children knows the Disney film Moana – probably word for word. Moana is the daughter of the village chief on a remote island where no one goes beyond the reef because of the dangers of the wider sea.

The wider sea is a place of danger. It’s not a place for poor islanders if they want to stay safe. Their boats were for fishing in the shallow seas. The seas are dangerous particularly for those who are poor, as we have been seeing in the attempted channel crossings that desperate people are making. The seas swallow the poor who dare to go beyond the reef.

It’s only the empires of the world that have conquered the seas with their vast ships and wealth of engineering. Rule Britannia and all that. 

Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves!
Britons never, never, never will be slaves.

Rule Britannia was written in 1740 just at the time when the British empire did rule the waves – as it did for two centuries until the First World War. While it may be true that empires bring some benefit, so often the ships of empire only brought trouble, bringing occupation and taking land, minerals and people for empires own purpose.

This is how Revelation sees the sea. Revelation is the last book of our scriptures. It wraps it all up and wraps it all up so graphically. It’s like a graphic novel. 

Revelation 21.1-6a
21  Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.
2  And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.
3  And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them;
4   he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.
5   And the one who was seated on the throne said, ‘See, I am making all things new.’ Also he said, ‘Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.’
6  Then he said to me, ‘It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.

John sees a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.

In the graphics of his revelation, John sees “the beast” rising out of the sea with ten horns and seven heads bearing blasphemous names. The beast comes from the darkness and the vastness of the sea. The beast had authority over every tribe and people and language and nation. In other words it was “empire”. The beast/empire made war on everyone who threatened its power, including trying to conquer the saints. All the suffering of the first heaven and the first earth comes from the beastliness of what comes out of the seas – those who rule the waves cause poverty, pain and tears “for the peoples of the world”. This is John’s revelation – what God revealed to John.

John himself was a victim of the beast of the sea. In his introduction, in chapter 1, he tells us that he is a victim of the persecution of Christians and that he was on an island called Patmos “because of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus”. 

Pliny and Tacitus tell us that prophecy, particularly prophecy with political implications, was seen as a threat by the Roman empire. Those guilty of such prophecy were deported. So, here is John, having been deported across the sea of empire to an island surrounded by cruel sea, living in exile. More graphically, empire swallowed John up and spewed him on an island – cast away.

Just as empire was doing its worst for John, those earliest Christians and other peoples of the world John has this revelation of the end of empire – the ending of the first earth ruled by empire. He sees a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more, because evil empire is no more.  He sees the end of the old rules and the beginning of a new rule in the form of the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, and he heard a loud voice coming from the throne of the new rule saying the “home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them.”

The point about empire and the sea underlines the political context of this revelation of God’s work. We still live in a political context which causes untold suffering. It is within that political context that God lives, moves and has his being. This is how God has revealed himself, time and time again, ever present in the troubles of the peoples of the world. This is the revelation that is treasured in our scriptures in book after book.

He comes to us. The Lord is here. His Spirit is with us – in the here and now, helping us through times of trial, strengthening our fight against injustices, making saints out of sinners. “See” said the one seated on the throne so different from those of worldly empires to John. “See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them.”  

This is down to earth. It’s not pie in the sky when we die, as when we say “she’s gone to be with Jesus”. No. The point of God’s revelation is that he is with us now. The Lord is here. His Spirit is with us.

Down to earth, not pie in the sky.  God makes his dwelling with us. He stands at the door and knocks – and waits, and waits till we answer his call – and all is revealed as soon as we let our hearts, minds, hands and eyes be opened.

It’s in our lives here and now that God reveals himself – as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. As father, making good things of earth, fashioning us for now, answering our prayer. In Jesus proving himself down to earth. As Holy Spirit breathing new life into us, inspiring us, encouraging us, strengthening us here and now.

Then the one seated on the throne made John see again. “See, I am making all things new.” This is heavenly Repair Shop stuff – making new the stuff of our lives. This brings hope here and now. This is the age we are living in – (the same as John’s, the same as everyone’s). We see so much that is broken – around us, and within us. But it is really the beginning of the end with God making all things new. Here’s the alpha, the beginning that leads to the end, the omega when there will be no darkness for shame to hide in.

This is how the book of Revelation came down to us. The one enthroned in love said to John, “Write this. Write this for these words are trustworthy and true” These words being “the home of God is with mortals” (those who will die), and “I am making all things new”.

This is how we have received the revelation of the love of God. Those words are trustworthy and true. We need to guard them with our lives and never let our Godtalk be pie in the sky when we die, but always the love from above, down to earth, here and now. Insist the Lord is here and his Spirit is with us, making all things new as we battle the beast.

We began our worship by remembering all the saints using this list circulated by Sheffield Manor Parish on their Facebook page. They credit Nel Shallow and Pete Phillips for the words.

We remember Lord today all Your saints
the brave and bold
the faithful and fearless
the pursued and persecuted
the imprisoned
the impoverished
the murdered
the martyred
the grace-full and generous
the poets and the prophets
the wonderers and the wise
the healers and the helpers
the preachers
the paupers
the cloistered
the commoners
the foolish and floundering
the unready and unsteady
the careless and the cautious
the following
the hopeless
the hopeful
the faithless yet forgiven
the faithful yet flawed
the wandering and wayward
the lost and longing
We remember today Lord all Your saints
called and chosen
beloved and beheld
holy and human
Amen

Saints and Stains – a sermon for All Saints Sunday

Some churches celebrate All Saints on the Sunday following All Saints Day (November 1st). Here’s a sermon for All Saints Day for our troubled times inspired by the gospel of the day is Matthew 5:1-12, itself a sermon for troubled times.

November 5th 2023

This is how to start a sermon.

How blessed are you who are poor in spirit, for yours is the kingdom of heaven.

There are two clauses in that first sentence – if you like, two lines. We could read between the lines “and those who aren’t aren’t” because Jesus is singling out communities and people who are poor in spirit. Theirs, and only theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 

So reading between the lines of that first beatitude we would have, “How blessed are you who are poor in spirit”, and then brackets (“and those who aren’t aren’t”). But then that doesn’t sound like the gospel until we add another line such as “but grace can change that”. 

I thought we would read the gospel again – reading between the lines. Could one side of the church say between the lines these five words: “and those who aren’t aren’t” with the other side of the church following on with the other five words: “but grace can change that”?

Let’s see how it translates:

  1. How blessed are you who are poor in spirit
  2. (and those who aren’t aren’t)
  3. (but grace can change that)
  4. for yours is the kingdom of heaven
  1. How blessed are the sorrowful and those who mourn
  2. (and those who aren’t aren’t)
  3. (but grace can change that)
  4. for you will be comforted.
  1. How blessed are you who are meek
  2. (and those who aren’t aren’t)
  3. (but grace can change that)
  4. You will inherit the earth
  1. How blessed are you who hunger and thirst after righteousness
  2. (and those who don’t aren’t)
  3. (but grace can change that)
  4. You will be filled
  1. How blessed are you who are merciful
  2. (and those who aren’t aren’t)
  3. (but grace can change that)
  4. Mercy will be shown to you
  1. How blessed are you whose hearts are pure
  2. (and those who aren’t aren’t)
  3. (but grace can change that)
  4. You will see God
  1. How blessed are you who are peacemakers
  2. (and those who aren’t aren’t)
  3. (but grace can change that)
  4. You are true children of God

……………….

The kingdom of heaven isn’t a heavenly space into which the poor in spirit move when they die. The kingdom of heaven isn’t so much a space as a rule. Theirs is the kingdom of heaven because they accept, follow and love the rule of heaven which puts the last first and the first last. They accept, follow and love the rule of heaven on earth.

The Beatitudes has been chosen by the church to celebrate this All Saints Sunday. Across the world, across denominational divides worshippers will be hearing this gospel. 

The passage tells us something important about the saints, and that is that life doesn’t look too good for those Jesus blessed. They were not squeaky clean. They were not like the unsullied in Game of Thrones. They were not untouched by what was going on around them. 

They were in the thick of it, suffering in the thick of it, hoping and praying in the thick of it. Jesus’ blessing comes in the thick of it. Blessed are those of you who mourn – those of you who are upset by the way things are, those who grieve for what’s been lost, those of you who are crying.

Those of you crying out for justice, who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those of you crying because of persecution. These people are in the thick of it, just as God’s kingdom people have always been in the thick of it, suffering trouble and troubled to their heart. 

God’s kingdom is not for the so-called innocent bystander or those who pass by on the other side – it’s for those who get involved in the politics of the gutter, both victims and helpers.

When we gather to hear Jesus’ preaching we join the crowd listening to his sermon begun with his blessings. There, on the mountain, is the throne of God, the majesty of God in the words of grace, blessing, encouragement and love. In Revelation  chapter 7 there is one who looks and marvels at the huge multitude of people around the throne of God. As this one looked he saw that there were people from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages. What they had in common was that they had all come through a great ordeal, they had come through the thick of it.

In my mind I gave this sermon the title of Saints and Stains. The author of Revelation sees the multitude robed in white – and that is the way we usually picture them in our stained glass – well dressed. The reality is very different. They’ve been through a great ordeal.They’ve been in the thick of it. They are blood stained, wounded. Their clothing is dishevelled and ripped. They’ve walked the refugee trails. They’ve cared for loved ones to their wit’s end. They’ve been bullied and taunted. They’ve been through great ordeals. What do we expect them to look like?

Here’s what St Paul says of himself and his travelling friends. “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed… We do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away our inner nature is being renewed day by day.” (2 Cor 4)

Not all of us face great ordeals but so many in the world are in the thick of it struggling to get food, keep warm, find rest in the midst of war, famine, flight, poverty, prejudice and health issues. Life is difficult. The challenge and call is about how we live in the thick of it and how we help and care. 

Those first hearers of Jesus’ preaching heard their blessing in their troubled times, in their troubled hearts, while they were in the thick of it, as ones going through great ordeals. How blessed are you who show mercy. How blessed are you who make peace. In the thick of it there is Jesus’ blessing. In the ordeals of the here and now, not pie in the sky when you die, there is the blessing of Jesus who himself is in the thick of it – (who, incidentally, on the throne of God, with a mock crown of thorns pressed on his head by crucifiers until his blood poured looks remarkably like the ram or lamb caught in the thicket as the sacrifice God provides in the story of Abraham and Isaac and the suffering servant pictured by Isaiah).

It was in the thick of it that Jesus knew his own blessing. It is in the thick of it that Jesus’ blessing has been heard down the ages.

A friend’s suggestion was for all of us to identify people who fit these blessings we call the beatitudes. For example, who would we single out as those in the thick of things who hunger and thirst after righteousness? ………….. These people would be our communion of saints.

We can take that further. Not only naming the poor in spirit, the mournful, the persecuted, but also joining Jesus in their blessing, growing our appreciation, our encouragement and our love for the work they do and the way they are, as well as appreciating, encouraging and loving them in the state they are in, in the thick of great ordeals. What would it be to be a church broken and gracious, hearing and  knowing God’s blessing in the thick of things while all the time joining the prayer of others in their ordeals?