Almighty
God, you have so knit together your elect in once communion and fellowship…
We began our worship service by acknowledging how God
has connected us – not just with one another, but with all people in all times
and all places. We are knit together
with all those who have come before us as well as all those who will come after
us. We are more than a piece of fabric
or a bolt of cloth. We are a beautiful
tapestry, each one of us contributing something unique and glorious to God’s
vision for all humanity.
Knit together with what is past as well as with what
is to come. This is more than fancy
theological talk, it is a mindset, a perspective, and a statement of faith
giving us purpose and hope.
I spent some time this past week reading through the
Rector’s annual reports at previous congregational meetings (I know, you don’t
have to say anything!). In the years
leading up to the 1989 renovation of the Parish Hall and kitchen, Jim Newsom,
our rector at the time, reminded people the space in need of attention was
almost 100 years old and had not seen significant change since 1921. He saw the building as a gift from the past
and he was driven to make it right for generations to come. He possessed a ‘knit-together’ mindset,
giving him perspective, and creating a sense of purpose.
On Tuesday we will exercise our right to vote. It is a sacred moment and obligation. When I walk into my polling place free of
fear and with no concern of reprisal for how I fill out my ballot I will think
of soldiers who fought and died first in the Revolutionary War to establish this
right and then in subsequent wars to defend it.
And I will think about future generations. I will cast my vote for candidates I deem
best suited to carry forward our government for the next generation and
generations to follow. Election Day is a
‘knit-together’ moment in our national life.
All Saints’ Sunday is a knit together moment as
well. This year the Worship Committee has
come up with a new twist for our annual streamer tradition. We thought it might be interesting to write
the names of those we love but see no longer on individual tags hanging in the
space on invisible line. I sat back in the
pews earlier in the week taking in the sight and evaluating it. I like how the tags float and move above the
chancel. And I like how you can see
through them to the Resurrected Jesus in the triptych above the altar. His arms are open to the tags and his gaze is
fixed on them. It is a poignant and
powerful visual reminder of how every celebration of the Eucharist knits us
together: things past, things present, and things to come.
Through our collect we prayed…
…that
we may come to those ineffable joys that you have prepared for those who truly
love you…
It reminds us a part of the purpose of All Saints’
Sunday is to strengthen us along the way.
It is to help us eventually find our way to the “ineffable joys” God has
prepared for us. “Ineffable” is not a
word you hear thrown around much in everyday conversion. It means “that which cannot be described” or
“that which is beyond words.” There
awaits for us something so wonderful we cannot even find a way to speak about
it.
I was thinking about my father earlier in the
week. He died 37 years ago when I was
20. Who was he, I wondered. I cannot say my sisters or I knew him
well. We knew him only as a father. It occurred to me there are only two people
alive who knew him with any great depth – my aunt and my mother. Sometime in the not so distant future they
too will be gone and with them any living sense of who my father was.
As I pondered this during a nice fall walk in the
woods I realized the same will be true for me.
One day I will be gone, followed eventually by everyone who knows
me. All that will be left will be copies
of Rector’s Reports from Annual Meetings and who in their right mind will ever
go back and read them?
Surely all of this would be too depressing to bear if
not for one thing. We live in a world
God is knitting together. We are blessed
by what has come before us. We do our
best to be faithful in our time. And
somehow, someway, I believe something ineffable awaits and once there I believe
we will know and see all that has been essential and good to what we have added
to the tapestry. Nothing in the tapestry
will ever be lost. Every part of it –
you and me and all those we love but see no longer and all those no one even remembers
– will be a part of something indescribable and eternal.
