Sunday, November 3, 2024
/All Saints (Year B)
Wisdom of Solomon 3:1-9; Psalm 24; Revelation 21:1-6a; John 11:32-44
The Rev. Clint Brown
My family was a camping family and, in a way, camping trips always look the same. Whether you’re sitting around the campfire chatting long after dark, biking or canoeing, fishing or swimming, playing badminton or horseshoes with the cousins, making s’mores, going for a hike, or just listening to the wind blow through the trees, the idea is to be out among nature with all its healthful benefits and enjoy a simpler time with people you care about. But I have to say, it was always the chance for independence afforded by this setting – the chance to go off by myself alone to walk and explore – that I most cherished.
And so it was for one of my rambles that I was first handed a compass and taught how to use it. The needle, I was told, always points north. Set a course in any direction and hold the needle fixed and you will find your way. Well, this was like offering Christopher Columbus three ships to sail the Atlantic or your teenager the keys to your car on a Friday night. A whole host of possibilities opened before me, not least of which the prospect of no longer having to stay on the trail. Excitedly and eager to try for myself this newfound power, I went off a little bolder than before. At an attractive place that looked suitable for exploration, I intrepidly turned off the road and left it behind…and it was exhilarating. But I must have gone a lot farther than I thought because, when I turned around to retrace my steps, I didn’t find the road where I expected it, and, for the first time in my life, I knew what lostness felt like. A terrible feeling crept into my stomach, and I broke into a sweat. I took out the compass. Now came the test. I had headed more or less due east, so the road must surely be somewhere up ahead if I kept going west. So I pressed on. Was I right? Did I really know where I was? Did I really know what I was doing? Was I ever going to find the road? Well, to my very great relief, I did find the road eventually and turned toward camp. And, to be honest, this was the most important part of the whole experience, because it was my time to reflect on what had happened. I had to admit that I had been really scared and not at all sure of myself…and yet the compass had worked. It did always point north. Everything that I had been told about it was true, and it had proven to be completely trustworthy. It didn’t matter one bit how worked up I had gotten, sticking to the course had guided me straight and true. And that, my friends, is the moral of this story. My little misadventure is a lot like life for a follower of Jesus. We do not lack moments when we are doubtful and unsure, even sick to our stomach for worry or lack of certainty, but, for us, the needle always points to one thing. Jesus? Yes. But, more to the point, resurrection. It is the truth that resurrection lies beyond our every misstep and ill judgement and every injustice visited upon us, that is the greater truth.
There is, in our lectionary readings for All Saints today, the unmistakable emphasis on resurrection. It’s as if to say, If we’re going to stick with Jesus, what can we expect? And the Bible is clear. Our destiny is resurrection. You’ve heard of “peace of mind”? Well, the Christian possesses the ultimate peace of mind. Jesus has conquered death. The powers of hell have been vanquished. All that is ugly and unjust and wrong in this present age has been defeated – a fait accompli. The reckoning may not come today, it may not come tomorrow, but we know the score in the end. This world will be judged, and that is a good thing because it will be judged righteously by the only one worthy to judge.
The final question of the Catechism reads: “What, then, is our assurance as Christians? Answer: Our assurance as Christians is that nothing, not even death, shall separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Whatever your current darkness may be – whatever wood you find yourself lost in – there is a compass I’d like to give you. Its needle is always pointing one way – to resurrection. And to see the possibility of resurrection in everything is what it means to live the life of a saint. Amen.