All Saints’ Day, Year B | St. Luke’s, Metuchen, NJ

Isaiah 25:6-9; Psalm 24; Revelation 21:1-6a; John 11:32-44

A week ago, the streets of New Brunswick were filled with zombies and angels, vampires and cartoon characters. The littlest ones were looking for candy. Who doesn’t love a treat? Some of the older revelers were enjoying a witches’ brew that gladdened their hearts with a bit more of a kick.

At the university we handed out water and food to over 500 students on the street, encouraging them to be safe while they were having fun. It’s easy at a young age to be enjoying life at top speed so much that you feel invincible. It’s easy to forget how fragile life can be. Part of the fun of Halloween festivities is to laugh in the face of fear and death. To dress up as monsters and ghouls. To be scared and live to tell about it another day.

I’ve always felt other cultures do a better job helping the whole family understand the deeper meaning of All Saints. Perhaps the best example is the celebration of Dia de los Muertos in Mexico. It is a time to remember those who have died, especially in the last year, and to celebrate their lives and their memories publicly and at home. They build ofrendas, home altars, decorated with flowers and the favorite food of the deceased. In this way, the dead are honored and in some way feel closer. They bring symbols of life to the grave and celebrate with joy and not just tears.

Our faith tells us that no matter how bad things may get, there is life. No matter how many tears may be shed, there is joy waiting.  

This morning we hear stories of suffering but also of restoration.

God’s people have suffered. In Isaiah’s prophecy, Isaiah is speaking to God’s people in exile. They have been weeping because of their suffering. They have been crying out to God for salvation. In this morning’s text we are shown a glorious image of God’s restoration. The setting is on a mountain. Mountains are best, because they are high ground. No enemy can sneak up on you. No flood can wash you away.

The people are feasting on rich food and drinking well-aged wine. Both of these are images not just of prosperity but of time – it takes time to age fine wine. And rich food doesn’t happen quickly either. It takes time and care to make the very best. But this image isn’t just about the party.

They are celebrating because God has destroyed death. God has swallowed it up forever, as easy as that rich food God’s people are enjoying. And God has wiped away the tears from ALL faces. God has removed the disgrace of the people from the earth. What a glorious image. This is cause to celebrate, indeed!

Lift up your heads, O gates; and the king of glory shall come in.

I saw a new heaven and a new earth. The old has passed away. God has come to dwell with us, and God has adorned his people as a bride. Another excuse to party! And hear it again, “God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear away from their eyes. Death will be no more.”

“See, I am making all things new!”

“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Mary is a mix of emotions when she sees Jesus. She is grief-stricken because Lazarus has died. She’s also confused and angry. “Jesus, where were you?”

In some of the most powerful words in all of scripture we see the very human side of Jesus. “Jesus was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved,” and then we hear, “Jesus began to weep.” This is not one manly tear trickling down his face. Jesus is weeping along with Mary, Martha, and all those gathered to mourn Lazarus. Tears are real. Weeping is part of what it means to be human. Jesus knew what it meant to grieve.

We lose people we love. We ask those hard questions, “God, where were you?” “If you had been here, if you had done your job, my friend, my husband, my mother, my son, all those innocent people, would not have died!” This scripture gives us an image of God in the face of Jesus. Jesus wept. God not only sees our tears, but

God feels the grief as well.

But the story does not end in tears. “Unbind him, and let him go.” Jesus calls on the crowd to roll away the stone from in front of Lazarus’ tomb, even though they are afraid of the smell. Jesus thanks God, very much like how he thanks God for the bread and the wine at the Last Supper. This is a moment much like the moment in Isaiah and Revelation. At least at this moment, for these people, death has been conquered. They were wiping away their own tears that day when they saw Lazarus.

But death would soon take Jesus away from them. Yet again, it wasn’t the end of the story. Jesus would rise, and they would see their mourning turned to dancing. They would feast with him. They would celebrate.

Our lives are marked by tears and rejoicing. We cry tears of joy at the birth of a child, and tears of sorrow when a parent dies. We hear this promise; this unbelievable promise that one day, this cycle will end. Death will be no more. We can’t wait for that day, but for now we must expect some more tears to come our way.

We as the entire human race, on a global level, have suffered over the last two years. We are living through a major reminder of the frailty of human life, how vulnerable we all are, the weak and the strong, the rich and the poor. Just yesterday, the life of Gen Colin Powell was celebrated at the National Cathedral in Washington. Gen Powell was an Episcopalian and a faithful church member. Longtime friend, Richard Armitage, shared a typical exchange the two would have every week. Armitage would ask, “Did you go to church?” And Gen Powell would always answer, “Oh yes, I was at church. And I want you to know I’m in the state of grace.”

As we observe All Saints’ this year, we remember all who have died, the great and the unknown. Those whose lives had a “happy” end, and those whose end was perhaps more tragic. We remember those whose faith served as an example to us all. We also remember those whose faith was known only to God.

During the prayers of the people, we will remember those who have died. Let’s take a slightly longer pause there as we name those on our hearts. Don’t hesitate to name them aloud as well. God knows their names, and God knows how much we love them and miss them.

As we come to God’s table this morning, they are with us, and, as Colin Powell put it, we are all in a state of grace – those of us here and those who are now in the nearer presence of God. God’s grace extends to us all. We look forward to the day when we will be reunited with those who have gone before us. For now, we may shed a few tears, but we also know that, one day, God will wipe away all our tears, forever. Amen.