Sermons
This morning, surrounded by photos of our dearly departed who were also blessed in this life, we remember that God sees us. The Holy One knows the losses and struggles that weigh us down. The exhaustion from caring for others. The disappointments at home, work or school. The worry about a loved one who is ill or preparing to die. God sees us and honors us. God blesses us and accompanies us.
Iin the waters of baptism we connect to our cloud of witnesses who surround us, singing as a testament that these waters can be for us our sign of the end of all tears. One day we will meet with the saints on the other side of the river, but until then we listen deeply for their song and try to find our own part in the song. We join the hymn of all creation as we celebrate the baptized people of God, living and dead, who make up the body of Christ.
Who’s counting? We all are. Who can count the tears shed this year? Alas, we will sing through the tears. We will sing when our hearts are breaking, when the future is uncertain. Even when we can’t sing together, we will sing at home.
For in Christ all things will be made new. With this promise we mark ourselves with a water cross this day. With this promise we share bread and wine as a foretaste of a feast still to come. With this promise we sing, we sing: All of us go down to the grave, but even at the grave we make our song: alleluia.
Believe me, I know, it doesn’t always feel like a “saintly” life. There is struggle. Martin Luther, in the middle of his reforms said that where there is faith, there is always struggle. And for this struggling saint, that’s good news. Doubt, feeling overwhelmed, wondering if God is out there are the marks of every saint, including my friend Scott from youth group. When we feel our most low, and wonder if we’ve lost our faith, God names us as the most faithful. Blessed are those who struggle.
