Someone the light shines through

Sermon from All Saints Sunday, November 5, 2023 + Pr. Michelle Sevig

During our weekly Bible study this week, I asked the participants to share what they know about All Saints Sunday, why it’s important to them, or a memory they have. David told us the story about a Sunday school teacher who once asked a question to her young students, “Do you know what a saint is?” One of the little girls thinking about the big stained glass windows in the church that depicted saints throughout the centuries, said “A saint is someone the light shines through.”

It's unlikely that the little one understood metaphor and theology in such a profound way. She likely literally meant the sunlight shines through those figures in the stained glass windows, and those figures are saints. But she gave an eight-word sermon that morning without even realizing it.

 A saint is someone the light shines through. 

Now we don’t have any saints in our stained-glass windows at HTLakeview. We don’t even have any stained glass in our HTLoop sanctuary. But we are still surrounded by the saints whom God’s light shines through. God's love and compassion shine brightly through the saints who are formally recognized by the church, like Mary, St. Francis of Assisi, Sts. Peter and Paul, St. Julian of Norwich, and many others–those whose images are written on the icons displayed in churches, like ours.  Indeed these and others named as saints are the ones whom the church recognizes as people who have shared Christ’s light and love in the world with amazing courage and faithfulness. 

In today’s gospel reading from Matthew, we get a series of “blessed are” statements from Jesus. These are called The Beatitudes and come to us via a sermon from Jesus, delivered on the mountainside. It’s surprising, maybe, that on All Saints Sunday, we don’t have a text about heaven or resurrection, but instead, we hear a description about life and blessings here and now, in the kin-dom of God for the living.  

  • “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

  • “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

  • “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

  • “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

  • “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

  • “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

  • “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

In these verses, Jesus clearly defines the character of those who are blessed—the character of the saints. Rather than advocating for wealth or power, Jesus celebrates mercy, meekness, peacefulness, and righteousness. Jesus gives a description of, and a summons to, a new kind of life, a kin-dom life, a saintly life. We are to extend mercy rather than extract revenge, strive for peace rather than exert will through violence. 

You see, we are invited to transform our sense of where God is at work in the world, not searching for God in places of strength and power, but in places of vulnerability –amid our anger and grief, alongside those who experience mercy and work for righteousness. The God we know in Jesus always shows up where we least expect God to be: in a feeding trough in a stable instead of a jeweled crib in a palace, among the poor and destitute, rather than with the rich and powerful, on the cross of an outlaw rather than on a war horse of a conquering hero. 

God is always showing up where we least expect God to be. God’s light is shining through the saint who is at the bedside of the dying, sitting vigil with the one who is grieving, holding their hand, saying a prayer even while sitting in uncomfortable silence. God’s light is shining through the peacemakers who work tirelessly for an end to war, trauma, and strife calling on us all to seek an end to suffering and needless death. God’s light is shining through those acting with mercy toward our migrant neighbors–providing food and shelter, warm blankets, and friendly smiles. 

In baptism, we are marked for a saintly life. “Let your light so shine before others,” we say to the newly baptized, “that they may see your good works and give glory to God” Now Lutherans don’t really like the word “Good works” we prefer to focus on God’s grace. But I think we mean it more this way, ‘Let your light shine! Let God’s grace, mercy, righteousness, love, peace, compassion–all of it–shine through you,” for this is our calling to a saintly life lived here and now, in God’s kin-dom here on earth. 

This evening, surrounded by photos of our dearly departed, we remember and give thanks for the saints who have gone before us and shone the way of faithfulness. As we remember those who have gone before us we celebrate the unbreakable communion between past, present, and future. We draw comfort and resilience and hope from the fact that countless others have mourned and hungered and thirsted and grieved in years past and gone on from struggles to the fullness of life in God’s presence. As religious scholar Tim Beach-Verhey puts it, “The saints provide a glimpse of God’s already in the midst of our not yet. 

Together with all the saints of every time and every place we come together at this table to share in a feast that knows no boundaries of time and space. Gathered with us in memory and feasting in the presence of God are a whole host of angels and archangels, those beloveds of this community that have gone before us, like spouses Mark and Richard, grandparents and parents–Peter, Libby, Keith, Jim, and Kathie, a brother named Ralph and a friend named Paul, and a whole host of others we remember this day and always. Thanks be to God for their faithfulness and may their light continue to shine in our hearts and in our memory.