All Souls Day is about names written on hearts.
Each year the Church encourages us to name aloud those who
remain in our hearts but have passed beyond this world.
So in a minute or two we’ll read the list of our dear dead
naming them aloud before God.
This year thanks to J Gumbrill and
Freeman Brothers who employ Kevin Scott of Chapel Lane our
war memorial has been renovated free of charge and we’re to bless that
renovation at the end of this service.
The 33 names of those who died in World War One
whose centenary we’re now marking shine out afresh on our village war memorial.
They are in black set on grey granite.
That blackness, like the blackness of the
vestments on this day of the departed, reflects the sadness of lives sometimes wrenched
from the earth and the many broken hearts our loved ones passed from this world
have left behind.
In the first passage of scripture chosen for this
memorial eucharist St Paul speaks tenderly of people on his heart, the absent
friends he has in the Church he founded in Corinth.
Surely we
do not need, as some do, letters of recommendation to you or from you, do
we? He writes. You
yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, to be known and read by
all; and you show that you are a letter of Christ, prepared by us, written
not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but
on tablets of human hearts.
This afternoon we too have tablets of stone in mind, the
graves of loved ones and the village memorial stone. We come also with names
written on tablets of human hearts. Surely
our dear dead live on in our hearts, and those of the war dead live on in the
hearts of our community for which they laid down their lives.
Paul goes on to speak of the confidence we should place in
God. Such is the confidence that we have
through Christ towards God. Not that we are competent of ourselves to
claim anything as coming from us; our competence is from God, who has made
us competent to be ministers of a new covenant, not of letter but of spirit;
for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.
Christianity isn’t having all the answers. It’s having the
humility to admit you don’t have answers over things like death but you do have confidence in One who does. That lends you a solid competence.
A
Christian is a far sighted one. Someone adventurous. One whose confidence in
the victory of Jesus over death spurs them on. One who presses competently through
the false boundaries of unbelief, sin, apathy, fear, sickness and, last of all,
death, towards the gift of God in Jesus Christ.
To
be a Christian is to be opposed to nostalgia in the sense of wanting to stop
the flow of time and change. Christian faith is a forward journey with an
eternal perspective that welcomes the challenges and surprises of life with
Spirit given creativity since Jesus Christ is ever new.
If
you live your life not content with a boring sameness but with what is other
than, or apart from, yourself, this fascination draws you forward day by day
into the possibilities of God which exceed your imagining.
If
you centre in love on what is other than yourself you get prepared to face what
is the ultimate strange ‘other’ – I mean death. We come to see death as nothing
more than the frame of our earthly life.
A
frame is the picture’s friend. It shows it off. Without the defining of our
life’s duration in time the span of our life would stretch into an infinite
void. Without being born and dying we would be ageless beings. No one would be
older or younger than anyone or anyone’s parent or child – we would be no one
at all!
Who
I am in my inner self is what matters ultimately. This is a product not just of
heredity and environment but of my own free choices - to love or not to love.
By growing love in my life I make of myself, with the Lord’s help, a being
stronger than death.
Paul reminds us, returning to the passage, and his words
reach beyond the first century Corinthians to twenty first century Sussex, that
something has indeed happened to change the way we see death, and its something
linked to the coming, the teaching, the suffering, the death and the rising of
Jesus now ever present by his Spirit
Now the Lord is the Spirit,
and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.
That
freedom came first from the stone rolled away from Christ’s tomb and it flows
down the centuries and across the continents into hearts that welcome the risen
Lord Jesus.
It
is the name of Jesus that makes sense of all other names from history including
those held in our hearts today we will shortly be commending. Lifting them to
the Lord at All Souls Day’s memorial eucharist will be transformative for them
and for us.
As
the large Easter Candle brought into the sanctuary for the day of the departed
reminds us, there is one human alone who is immortal and his invitation stands
as much before us as it does before our dear dead.
It
is the invitation to move nearer to him.
As
our passage concludes And all of us, with
unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror,
are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another;
for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.
As
part of our prayer today we have opportunity to light candles for our departed
loved ones from the Easter Candle and place them in the sand tray. As we do so
we are saying Jesus from your risen glory give your light to my loved one who
has passed into death’s dark vale.
Give them eternal rest, O
Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them.
The
Lord who welcomes them welcomes us this afternoon, as we heard in the brief yet
eloquent invitation he gives us in our Gospel reading which I make my last word
to you:
Come to me, all you that are
weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my
yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you
will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is
light. Matthew 11:28-30
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