All Saints’ Sunday
November 1, 2015
Isaiah 25:6-9; Psalm 24; Revelation 21:1-6a; John
11:32-44
This past week at our district clergy gathering, a pastor
shared one of my favorite Scripture passages.
Except, this time it made me pause, because the first word she said was ‘remember.’ “Remember, he who created you, O Jacob, he
who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear.”[1] When I got home, I looked it up because I
didn’t remember that passage starting with the word ‘remember.’ Then I looked up other translations,
wondering if perhaps that’s how a different group of translators phrased that
passage. But I couldn’t find it in any
translation. The pastor added the word
‘remember’ to the beginning of the Scripture reading. Remember
this passage. Remember this promise. It’s
something we know. It’s something I’ve
read dozens of times, and she began the reading by saying ‘remember.’ You know this. I’m not saying anything new. But you may have forgotten. You may have gotten caught up in other things
and distracted or overwhelmed or angry. Remember. It’s what Rafiki says to Simba when he goes
to find him at the climax of “The Lion King.”
“Remember who you are!” Remember
God and his promises to you. Remember
God said, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through
the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall
not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”[2] Remember!
Don’t pretend you forgot. Don’t
live as if this promise isn’t true. It
is! Remember!
But what happens when you honestly don’t remember? When it’s not pretending or ignoring? What happens when you’ve gotten caught up in
the waters and all you can see are the wind and the waves and you’ve lost sight
of Jesus, even though you’ve tried your darnedest? Or what happens with illness or old age, when
your memory just isn’t what it used to be, and it’s not your fault? What happens when you don’t remember? This is actually part of what was discussed
at the continuing ed I went to a couple weeks ago. It was called “Body and Belonging: Nurturing
Wholeness in Christian Community,” and one lecture in particular was on
dementia and the memory of our bodies.[3] The standard account of memory and recall
says that to forget means to be unable to bring the past into the present and
recognize it as past. It says that we’re
autobiographical, that you are the self you tell about, and so that it becomes
a problem when you are unable to tell your story, or when you’re not who you
used to be, because, then, who are you?
However, the presenter is a Christian and he said that Christians aren’t
defined by the stories we tell about ourselves, we’re defined by God’s story, and what God says about us. He explained that the word ‘remember’ has
Latin roots and means “to pass back through” and the Spanish word, ‘recordar,’
means “to pass back through the heart.”
So memory isn’t just in the mind, but engages the whole body. Our bodies
remember things, especially things like a strong smell or a particular taste. Even if our brain doesn’t remember something,
another part of our body might. We are more than just our brains, we are also
our hearts and our souls. That’s why
they say you never forget how to ride a bicycle, even if you haven’t done it in
years. Your body remembers, even if your brain isn’t so sure about it.
The
church, together, is the body of Christ.
In Romans, Paul writes, “We have many parts in one body, yet the parts
don’t all have the same function. In the same way, though there are many of us,
we are one body in Christ, and individually we belong to each other.”[4] We belong to each other, and together we do the work of remembering. That’s part of why we come here each Sunday,
to remember together what God has done for us, to remember together God’s
goodness, to remember together God’s promises to us. We remember together that “God will wipe
tears from every face,” like we read in Isaiah.[5] We remember together that “the earth is the
Lord’s and everything in it,” from our Psalm this morning.[6] We remember together that there is this
promise in Revelation of a new heaven and a new earth and that one day “death
will be no more and there will be no mourning or crying or pain anymore.”[7] We remember together the things we confess to
believe in the Apostle’s Creed, which is part of why we repeat it each
Sunday. It helps us remember. We remember how to pray when we pray together
the Lord’s Prayer. We remember,
sometimes, how to praise, when we sing hymns together. We remember the resurrection of the dead,
when we read this story of Jesus calling out Lazarus when he had already been
dead four days and the stench of death stunk to high heaven. We come together each week to remember, to
pass back through our hearts God’s story of salvation, to remember who we are
and whose we are.
We also come together each week to help
each other remember. Sometimes, when someone’s brain isn’t working
right, whether because of disease or because of overwhelming circumstances or
mommy brain, we remember for each other. And this is important. Sometimes we do forget who we are. Sometimes we forget we are beloved children
of God. Sometimes we forget that we were
made in God’s image. Sometimes, for
whatever reason, we forget. And then we
need each other to remind us, to hold our memory for us and tell us who we
are.
When
I was little my family lived overseas for two years, and after we came back to
the States and my parents shared about our experiences, I couldn’t tell you
which memories I had on my own and which ones I had heard my parents tell so
many times over. I didn’t know which
memories were mine and which ones were memories of stories I’d heard repeated
over and over again. My parents held
some of the memories for me, the ones I was too young to remember. And that’s true in any family. As we have different roles in a family, we
remember different parts of our family’s history and we remember those parts
for other family members. We remember for each other, when someone
doesn’t know or has forgotten. And it’s
okay when someone doesn’t know or has forgotten. It’s not a judgment. It’s not a reason to feel guilty, like you should remember. There are times when we just don’t, and then
we can come together with our church family and someone will be here who
remembers for us. Someone will be here
who remembers the color of your grandmother’s eyes. Someone will be here to remember [why the
curtain behind the cross for All Saints’ Day should be white] or to set up for
communion. We hold memory for each
other.
Most
importantly, we remember God’s salvation. In Isaiah, we read a vision of worldwide
salvation. On Mount Zion, God prepares a
feast for all the peoples of the
earth. God destroys death, wipes away every
tear from each face, and removes the disgrace of the people Israel. We remember, to quote Isaiah, that “this is
our God, for whom we have waited – and he has saved us!”[8] Sometimes we need reminding who we are;
sometimes we need reminding who God is and what he has done. He has
saved us! We have been saved, even if we
forget, or try to pretend otherwise. We
come together to remember. Jesus says,
in our Gospel reading this morning, “If you believe, you will see God’s glory.”[9] Remember,
salvation for those who believe.
Remember, we are God’s people,
you are God’s beloved child. Together we remember.
So,
if sometimes you forget, it’s okay. We
come together to remember and there are others here who will remember for
you. If you’re at a place where you want to forget, there are still others
here who will remember for you. Not to
judge you, because we all have painful memories we want to forget, but to help
you, to be here for you, to be the muscle memory that remembers how to ride a
bicycle even if the brain forgets. “Though
there are many of us, we are one body in Christ, and individually we belong to
each other.” That was the difference,
the speaker at this conference said, between belonging and the political term
of inclusion. Inclusion means equal
access and equal treatment, it means everyone’s in the room. But it’s not the right theological term. You can be included without belonging. Just being in the room doesn’t mean you are
loved. Belonging means you are loved.
Belonging means you are missed
when you’re not in the room. Did you
know that when I look out at you, I’m actually doing a mental assessment of
who’s missing? I look for who’s missing
each Sunday morning. Not so that I can
guilt them about it, but because they belong.
We belong to each other, as Christ’s body, the church. And as the body, we remember for each other,
who we are, and whose we are. Then on
All Saints’ Day we remember who has passed during this past year, who still
belongs, but who we no longer see on this side of heaven. We remember, because they are missed. We remember, because they are part of our
family. And again at the table, we
remember and we participate not just with our minds, but with our bodies, as we
physically come forward to taste and smell.
We remember not just with our minds, but with our whole body, because
other parts remember when our brains forget.
Thanks be to God we have each other to help us remember!
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