Readings for Christ the King Sunday, November 25, 2018

• 2 Samuel 23:1-7 and Psalm 132:1-12, (13-18) 
• Revelation 1:4b-8 
• John 18:33-37

"Not From Here," Pastor Kinsey
Some translations of Jesus’ words to Pilate say, “My kingdom is not of this world,” while others say, “my kingdom is not from this world.”  Does it make any difference, whether it’s, “Of,” or “From!?” 
 
Today’s gospel is from the trial of Jesus, hours before he is crucified, an odd choice, you might think, for the end of the Pentecost season, as we are about to enter Advent and Christmas!  But the connection, of course, is this dialog Jesus and Pilate are having on kingship and kingdoms, on this Christ the King Sunday. 
 
This is the last Sunday of the long, green and growing season of Pentecost, the 27th Sunday, or 6 months, after the Day of Pentecost.  After the festival half of the year – which takes us through the celebrations Christmas, Epiphany and Easter – the Pentecost Season is designed to teach the life of Christ.  This year, we followed the alternate, or Semi-continuous readings from the Hebrew scriptures – mostly the story of David – instead of the appointed First Readings which were chosen to complement the theme of the Gospel readings.  So, if you remember hearing about King David during the Season of Pentecost, you not only get a gold star for remembering(!), but you may be ahead of the class in understanding what today’s readings from Samuel and John are all about!
 
Today in 2nd Samuel, we hear King David’s final address, his oracle to his followers.  David outlines what it has meant for him to be Israel’s first and greatest king.  Lutheran professor, Kathryn M. Schifferdecker (nice German Lutheran name!) says there are three main points to King David’s oracle: 1) The king is ordained by, and answerable to God, 2) The king who rules justly is a great blessing to [the] people, and 3) God has made an everlasting covenant with David, and God is faithful (to that covenant). 
 
Remember that God didn’t necessarily want to turn God’s chosen people Israel into a monarchy.  God was worried about corruption entering into such a concentration of power.  But the people wanted it – they were insisting! – though mostly, just mimicking what they saw all around them, from Egypt to Syria to Babylon.  So finally, Samuel, the prophet of the day, tells them, God will anoint a king for Israel, but with a couple of conditions – basically, Schifferdecker’s main points, that God remains the sovereign over the king and nation, and the king will rule wisely and with justice, or else the people will basically suffer in a state of enslavement. 
 
And of course, God gets to choose the king!  So God instructed Samuel to visit the home of Jesse, who has a slew of sons, all poor shepherds.  Jesse must have been overwhelmed that Samuel had come to his lowly house, looking for a king, and he respectfully parades his sons out, one by one, from the oldest, on down.  And for each one, Jesse listens for the Lord’s command.  But God passed over all 7 sons that Jesse debuted.  Is this all your sons, Samuel asks?  Actually, Jesse remembers, there is the youngest, who they left out in the Bethlehem fields, to keep watch over their flocks.  No one considered that the least among them, might be chosen – the runt of the litter, if you will. 
 
Well, run get him, Samuel says!  God does not see with the eyes of mortals, Samuel reminds us, the reader, dazzled by outward appearances.  God sees into our hearts, knowing the true character. 
 
So in runs a breathless young David – who just happens to also be quite handsome, the text doesn’t mind reporting – and Samuel says, yes this is the one God chooses!  All the older 7 brothers’ jaws drop in astonishment!  David – the least, the outcast, the shepherd boy – is anointed by Samuel to be king. 
 
This is not the obvious pedigree of a king either.  David is far from royalty.  His father Jesse is not wealthy or well connected, and Jesse’s grandmother, Ruth, was an immigrant Moabite woman.  But for those who can see and hear what God is up to – like when God chose Jacob over his older twin-brother Esau, or when God lifted up Joseph, the youngest of 12 brothers, to save Israel from starvation – we know God sees possibilities in places the world does not. 
 
But David begins his kingship with a bang, conquering the big bad Philistine king, Goliath, which only burnishes his reputation as, the least among us, who is on his way to becoming greatest. 
 
But David is far from perfect.  One of his biggest sins – after he has become fat and lazy from all his victories – was betraying his closest and best field commander, purposely not giving him cover on the front lines in battle, so that he never comes home, all to cover up his affair with the man’s wife, Bathsheba.  David managed to hang on to God’s favor, only after Jonathan’s deft intervention that prompted the king’s confession and repentance.  But God’s worst fears were realized in the kings that followed down the line.  Israel became so dysfunctional it soon split into two kingdoms, and finally 400 years later, they were so weakened by corruption, that they were overrun by Nebuchadezzar, who destroyed the Temple, and the people were led into Babylon as captives.  David had at least struggled to be answerable to God, but the kings who followed, failed miserably to rule justly.
 
So did this end the experiment in kingship?  What happens to the part of David’s oracle promising that “God has made with me an everlasting covenant?” 
 
The Israelites returned to Israel when Cyrus the Persian set them free by conquering the Babylonians.  But their grief and PTSD left them conflicted about who they wanted to be, and found it hard to heal – and in their zeal to please God and rebuild the Temple, they adopted a kind of, Make Israel Great Again strategy.  They wanted a king like David, at least on his best days, but they could never return to the past.  Kingdom after kingdom – from this world – overran Israel, from the Greeks to the Romans.  And Israel - answerable to other kings, who lorded it over them – was unable to stand up and claim their own identity.  Why, they asked, if God was faithful, was this happening to them?
 
Thus began the many iterations of hoping for a new anointed king, a Messiah that would save them, right down to Jesus.  There were some brigands that rose to power briefly, and overtook the Temple declaring it sovereign for Israel’s God.  And, right up to the 12 disciples of Jesus, most apparently believed the, hoped-for, coming Messiah, would be one of these kinds of kings, to establish a kingdom like David’s, who had conquered and ruled the known world. 
 
Just before our gospel reading today, before Jesus is on trial, Jesus had led the people in a triumphant palm parade into Jerusalem, as they shouted, hail King David, blessed are you who comes in the name of the Lord!  But without sword or spear, riding on a donkey – Jesus was a different kind of king.
 
Jesus tells Pilate, “my kingdom is not from this world.  If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews.  But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.”  And it makes a difference that we translate this correctly.  “My kingdom is not of this world,” has been a misleading translation for a long time, if it is interpreted to mean that Jesus offer us a spiritualized, Platonic, other-worldly kingdom and realm. 
 
Jesus’ kingdom is not from this world, because it is from the royal line of God, from the truth of God’s realm.  But its aim, is us!  Jesus came to be born into this world to reveal God’s kingdom more fully to us, and even to hand it over to us, here in this life.  “Your kingdom come,” Jesus taught his disciples to pray, “on earth as it is in heaven.” 
 
Jesus died and rose again, to reveal it, and insure we could see it, and receive it thru the gift of the H. Spirit, which the church received on the Day of Pentecost. 
 
The gift we received, the truth Jesus was born for and came into the world to testify to, as John says, is that God’s non-violent love is stronger than lording it over others, that the last shall be first, and Christ is our King.  The last son of Jesse, a shepherd boy from Bethlehem, was anointed Israel’s king, becoming first, just as Christ our King was born in a humble Bethlehem manger.  And You and I, no matter how lowly we feel, are anointed with the oil of baptismal blessing, as kings and queens!  Together, we have all received the kingdom and realm of God, today, through the gracious gift of our humble, yet all-powerful, king. 
 
Hail to Christ then, our crucified, and victorious, Lord of All!

Readings for November 18, 2018, Day of Thanksgiving

• Joel 2:21-27 and Psalm 126  
• 1 Timothy 2:1-7  
• Matthew 6:25-33

​Thanksgiving, Pastor Kinsey
If there ever was a person who lived and proclaimed this teaching of Jesus – “do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear” – it was Lance Roberts! 
 
Pastor Lance was one of my mentors when we first moved to the UP, the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  Kim and I were called, some 15 years later, to the same two point parish that Lance had started at, in Stambaugh and Amasa.  But Lance – unlike us – was born and raised in Ishpeming, MI, near Marquette, a true Upper! 
 
Lance was the kind of guy who woke up every morning, and would tell everybody who’d listen, “isn’t this a beautiful day to be alive!  I tell ya, this is God’s country!”  And because we were colleague’s, Lance told me, more than once, especially in difficult or stressful times, “we have the best job in the world, we get to tell the good news!”  And he really meant it.  But Lance – in his “glass half-full” attitude – was never Pollyannish about it.  He was a hard worker, and a very generous and successful guy. 
 
When Lance heard I was a basketball player he invited me to join the team he was forming in Iron Mountain, where he was Pastor at First Lutheran.  He knew all the pastors in town and wanted to have, an all-Pastor team.  But, in the end, we had to recruit a few lay Lutheran members to fill out the roster!  We were so bad that first year, that at the end of the season, when we’d only won one game, they moved us down to a lower level in the league, for the following year.  But there, we were competitive, often making it to the playoffs. 
 
Lance was a fierce competitor.  Not that tall, but Strong as a bear, and could muscle his way under the basket to rebound, or take it out beyond the 3-point line, and drill it, nothing but net, with surprising accuracy.  But, it didn’t matter if we won or lost, as soon as the game was over, he always had the same analysis.  ‘That was a great game!’  Or, ‘we had a good run tonight, didn’t we!’  That was Lance! After the buzzer, immediately he was in the, ‘there’s nothing to worry about mode.’ ‘It’s all good!’  ‘Thanks be!’   
 
Lance retired a couple years before we left the UP.  And it was just the next spring, after we lived back in Chicago, just a few months before I arrived at Unity, that we heard the news.  Lance had been out planting more pine seedlings on his property – he’d planted 1,000’s over the years – but this time, something was wrong, he didn’t come back for lunch, as usual.  Lance died of a massive heart attack!  A giant of a person, and fellow follower, cut down too soon.  But a life well lived, to the glory of God!  And I immediately made plans to go up for his funeral. 
 
“Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear… can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?”  Of all the people I know Lance’s age, he was the last one I thought would go that young – being in such good shape, so active all his life.  But he certainly hadn’t ever missed an opportunity to share the good news – giving thanks to the God who has our every need in mind, and projecting that worry-free feeling Jesus taught his disciples! 
 
Jesus words of wisdom in our gospel reading are from his Sermon on the Mount, which in Matthew, covers 3 full chapters.  He’s speaking to his followers.  Not just his 12 disciples, but all his followers, ‘great crowds,’ which Matthew describes in the introduction to the Sermon on the Mount, as, ‘followers from Galilee, but also from the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea, and from beyond the Jordan,’ where Jesus hadn’t even been yet!  
 
And here, in the middle of his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells them, not to worry.  Not because many of them didn’t struggle for their daily bread, because they did, and Jesus taught them to ask God for their daily bread in (the Lord’s) prayer.  But remember – his mission statement, the kernel of Jesus’ message is – the kingdom and realm of God have arrived!  “Indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need food, drink and clothing.  But strive first,” Jesus tells them, “for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” 
 
Matthew also has a little introduction just for this section on, ‘not worrying.’  A familiar passage, I’m sure you know: “no one can serve two masters,” Jesus said, “for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.” 
 
“Therefore I tell you,” Jesus continues, “do not worry…” 
 
And we all have different ways of doing this, right.  Jerry Michalski told me on Friday how he witnessed the most extraordinary thing downtown.  He saw a man who was talking with a homeless person on the street.  He seemed to be adjusting their coat, or buttoning the buttons, or something.  They seemed to exchange something important, some grace-filled moment.  And then as he walked away, Jerry noticed the man had no coat of his own, and, it was rather cold out on Friday, as you might remember.  The man had literally given the coat off his back, to someone in need, without a worry for his own life, or what he would wear! 
 
 “…why do you worry about clothing?” Jesus said, “Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these.” 
 
And King Solomon was of course the richest person in the known world, who lavishly surrounded himself in the beauty of the newly built Temple – to Israel’s demise, some might say – perhaps the perfect example of trying to serve two masters, God and wealth!
 
Better to trust in the Lord to feed and clothe you, Jesus seems to be telling us.  Not that eating and having respectable clothing is not a good thing.  God knows you need them.  But this is about the road Jesus is calling us to follow.  Trust is key, trust in the one who is the giver of all good things (not trust in wealth) – following the call of the kingdom, and striving to do justice – that we may be the servants, the incarnate vehicles, God can use, to be repairers of the world. 
 
How do we learn to trust, when trust is not easy, and it’s not always natural.  It seems more logical to be careful, to be suspicious.  People respond more readily to fear mongering, today, it seems – it’s easier to be afraid, and, in a persistent state of anxiety. 
 
One way, not to worry, I think, is to play the long game.  We say yes to the God of love, and in so doing, we take the first step on the road to Jerusalem – the road we travel for the rest of our life.  We desire to be followers of Jesus, and so we take another step and we join a congregation of followers.  We get hungry and thirsty, and then after church, a turkey potluck dinner appears – trusting more, and worrying less!  Life is about more than food and clothing, which is what Jesus wants to reveal to us as we follow on the road, on the way.  Life is about ‘striving first, for the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness.’ 
 
And to give thanks.  ‘This is a great day to be alive,’ as Pastor Lance would say! 
 
What a privilege it is, as fellow followers, to be able to share this good news! 
 
Thanks be to God! 

Readings for 25th Sunday after Pentecost, November 11, 2018

• Ruth 3:1-5; 4:13-17 and Psalm 127  
• Hebrews 9:24-28  
• Mark 12:38-44

​War No More, Pastor Kinsey
On the 11th hour, of the 11th day, of the 11th month, 100 years ago today, Peace was declared, officially ending WWI.  The Great War, as it was called, but also, the War to End all Wars, was finally over, and people were jubilant.  Suffering and death were ended.  Indeed, no greater loss of life, so quickly, had ever taken place.  WWI invented modern technological, and chemical warfare, with terribly devastating results.  Though many young men and boys gladly signed up, by the end, people had had enough of war, forever. 
 
I don’t know how many boys from Unity signed up to go, but there is a plaque memorializing all those who didn’t return.  Pastor Davey, Unity’s pastor at the time, and only pastor since our founding in 1905, was in tears when the news broke and members of Unity came joyously marching in, after circling the neighborhood with many others, in an impromptu celebration.  ‘What can we give as a memorial to peace,’ Pastor Davey wondered aloud?  ‘Let it be an organ,’ he answered his own question!  And so they sold two Liberty war bonds to kick off the fundraiser.  It would take another year and a half before, this organ, right here, was ‘dedicated in thanksgiving to God, for peace.’ 
 
And so, from suffering and death, arose new life.  ‘The Lutheran gift’ of organ-music, to enliven our worship of God, brought joy here, with its new instrument, and has graced members of Unity for 98 years, in this Austin organ. 
 
By now, it’s certainly showing its age – and we do the best we can to tend, and mend it, from year to year.  But still, I’d rather not depend on WWIII to raise the money for a new one! 
 
The War to End all Wars lasted less than 30 years, when the 2nd WW broke out.  And the conflicts, and undeclared wars, we’ve been having ever since, have been far too many and too costly.  The truth is, war cannot end war!  It is much more likely that ‘violence begets violence’; that lies and deceit, power and posturing, and poking the bear, bring us closer, to armed conflict.  Stockpiling weapons and building up armies, are more likely to produce war, than peace.  WWI ended with great disillusionment, but it did not end waging war. 
 
Are you watching the TV show, This Is Us?  I don’t want to spoil it for you if you’re not caught up!  But this was the one where we learn how Jack entered the Vietnam war.  Jack is a sargeant, we discover at the beginning of the episode.  A very serious and caring leader, who ‘is there’ for one of his soldiers that gets badly injured when they are ambushed in the middle of the night.  Only later do we learn that Jack didn’t want to enlist.  But then, as the show likes to do, we go back in time, on the night of the announcement of the draft numbers, sometime in the 1960’s, when Jack and his younger brother, Nick, about to turn 18, go to the local bar to watch it on TV.  “The first number is – June 20, or whatever day they picked out of the hopper, and so if your birthday was June 20th, you were first in line to go.  Number 2 was announced; #3, #4, and we see Jack and his brother drinking a beer, starting to settle in, trying to calm their nerves.  But then his little brother’s birthday comes up as #5, and their world collapses.  Still Jack doesn’t enlist right away, it’s only after Nicky’s letters, that he sends back from Nam, start to get really dark, that Jack, always his little brother’ protector, decides he has to go.  Jack of course, will make it back home from the war, we know.  But his little brother never does, and Jack feels responsible ever after, a burden that changes his life, both for good and ill. 
 
Today we commemorate Martin, Bishop of Tours, who having been conscripted  in the Roman army by his own father, later had a conversion to become a follower of Christ, through an encounter with a beggar.  To follow Jesus, for him, meant turning around from his life in the army, even though he was arrested and served jail time, to do it.  Later, when he became a bishop, Martin was so dedicated to the freeing of prisoners, that when authorities, even emperors, heard Bishop Martin was coming, they refused to see him, because they knew he would request mercy for someone, and they wouldn’t be able to refuse!
 
In the post-Vietnam years, Congress decided to end the draft and go to an all volunteer army.  ‘Let’s just take the ones that really want to fight,’ was the rationale.  Except in peacetime, recruiters always emphasize the education and job training you can get by enlisting, and lots of boys coming from poor households see it as their opportunity – compared to college, which they can’t really afford. 
 
Why is it, that we continue to fight wars, when we want to end them?  When will we arrive at Isaiah’s vision, from over 2,000 years ago, that on “the mountain of the LORD… they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” 
 
Our gospel reading focuses on one widow, in her poverty, and the enormous sacrifice she made.  We have often lifted up this woman as an example to follow, especially in our Stewardship campaigns and sermons.  If she could give so much out of her poverty, how much more should we be generous!  There’s even a title for this story that has become synonymous with her – the Widow’s Mite, because a Mite (M-i-t-e) was another name for the smallest coin used in Palestine. 
 
Except that when we ask people to give generously, we’re usually talking about percentage giving, or tithing.  But the widow, says Jesus, gives “everything she had, all she had to live on.”  That’s different, by a long shot. 
 
Jesus is comparing the poor widow to the haughty Scribes, those leaders who ‘walk around in expensive academic gowns, preening in the radiance of public flattery, basking in their prominent positions, sitting at the head table at every banquet.’  Beware of them, Jesus says!  Watch out, because at the same time, they are also exploiting the weak and helpless.  “They devour widows’ houses…” 
 
Then, sitting down opposite the temple offering box, Jesus watched.  And he notes how the rich were making sure everyone noticed how they were making large contributions, while the widow put in two small coins, a mite, all she had to live on.  To the disciples, Jesus instructs them – this woman gave much more than all the others contributing to the treasury.  She sacrificed her life.  Who among us could say the same? 
 
But the widow, it would seem, is more of a foreshadowing of the sacrifice Jesus will make on the cross, for the life of the world. 
 
I have encountered many on our streets who have lost everything, but no one, in all their generosity, who has willingly given up all their possessions!  
 
'There is a reason the widow has only a penny left to her name.  It’s possible to be a hero, and victim, at the same time – which many veterans and military families understand all too well.' (Rev Brian Hiortdahl)  Poverty is not an accident in our society.  The wealth gap in America is so very wide today, because policies, laws, and politics continue to enforce it.  And war, and the Military Industrial Complex, are a part of those drivers. 
 
It doesn’t matter, if we have a draft, or a volunteer army, until we begin to put as much and more into planning for peace; Until we agree to mediate our problems and disagreements, by talking and diplomacy, through the rule of law (instead of the chaos of war).  If we don’t have a vision to beat swords into plowshares; If we don’t learn to ‘love our enemies,’ the gospel message of Jesus will not come alive, in us and our communities.  From us – we must demand Peace.
 
Jesus died ‘that we may have life and have it abundantly.’  We are the people who can embody, ‘no more war.’  If not, we’re just devouring widows’ houses, and preening for public flattery. 
 
Let’s find a way.  [Looking at watch]  it’s just about the 11th hour, of the 11th day, of the 11th month – 100 years later. 
 
It’s never too late, if we do it together.  Peace be with you!

Readings for All Saints Sunday, November 4, 2018

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

"Come Out," Pastor Kinsey
“The dead man came out!”  Amidst the tears of the many wailing mourners, and of the weeping of Mary and Martha, and finally Jesus’ own tears – there is no more confounding verse in John’s story than, “The dead man came out!” 
 
There have been so many tears this week, following the senseless tragedy at Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh. 
 
This past Friday evening, as part of a national movement, our local Jewish congregation, Emanuel, invited all of our Edgewater neighborhood to Shabbat services.  A number of Unity folks took up the call and attended, as a part of a large, overflowing crowd. Rabbi Marantz with his guitar strapped on, and Cantor Friedman with her beautiful voice, led the worship by inviting one guest after another to come up to the Bema and say a word, recite a poem, speak part of a responsive liturgy, share a testimony, or give a blessing.  A young woman who was to lead her Bat mitzvah the next day on Saturday, and who sat in the front row with her proud family, was even invited up, warmly introduced, and read Torah sripture to us!  I was honored too, to be invited to say a word on behalf of ECRA, our neighborhood religious association.  The eclectic diversity was awesome! 
 
And so, the tears and sadness, was well tempered by the deep and beautiful truth being conveyed in words, and even more so, I’d say, by the sheer fact of our presence together, which embodied the message that, Love is stronger than hate! 
 
When one of our communities are attacked, all of us are attacked!  We will not stand idly by – We will stand in solidarity!  We are Children of Abraham, from the same root, branches of the same tree.  (Our only Unity complaint, btw, was why do they start at 8pm? That’s too late, for us goyim!) 
 
This is a huge and positive change, even within my lifetime.  The belief in interfaith cooperation, has grown, even as this recent sharp increase in anti-Semitism has been allowed, even encouraged, to show its hateful face.  We gathered together to “call out” death-dealers, and to raise up a resilient bright light of active, non-violent love and solidarity!
 
Jesus, “called out” Lazarus, with a commanding voice, in our Gospel reading today.  “And the dead man came out,” John says. 
 
Jesus says that he wants to do this, for a couple of reasons.  1) to show Martha, one of the sisters of the dead man, that if she trusted in Jesus as a purveyor of life, as a healer, and anointed one, that she, would see, the glory of God!  Martha had basically complained to Jesus that he took too long to come to their house!  If he had come immediately he could have healed Lazarus, who he knew, was ill.  And, it’s true, Jesus doesn’t come right away, on purpose!  He tells his 12 disciples that he’s going to wait a couple days.  ‘This illness in not unto death,’ he confides in them, but rather it’s for God’s glory.  So they stayed put, two more days! 
 
Seems rather callous doesn’t it?  What could Jesus be up to? 
 
And secondly, he seems intent on gaining a wider audience, a bigger following, to establish a movement of believers.  John records Jesus praying out loud: “I knew that you always hear me, Father, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here…”  and then he calls Lazarus out from the tomb. 
 
So, what do you see?  Do you see glory? 
 
“The dead man came out,” says John!  Which is a logical contradiction, of course – at least to our minds of reason, to our human cultural conditioning of fear, and illness, and death.  Dead people don’t walk out of their graves.  Personally, I’ve buried two parents.  So, hello St. John: What are you talking about!?!
 
I believe, there is a deeper meaning, living within the action of this story of calling out, Lazarus.  Seeing by the eyes of faith, we might note, is a different type of vision – like seeing the wind, by noticing the leaves of the trees blowing.  Though the Spirit is invisible, it does not negate the life-force of God, blowing and working through our lives and our culture. 
 
Jesus came to reveal the glory of God’s gift of life, that “in God there is no death.”  But it’s not like our faith is what makes God’s goodness happen.  God’s grace comes as pure gift.
 
Our whole collective culture, that we build up and create, in and around our lives, in and around our communities and institutions, in and around our cities and countries, are rooted in life, or in death.  Our faith is our courage and trust(!), that in God there is no death.  Our faith is our acceptance, that God is calling, and continues to call us out, from the dark places that are holding us back, holding us down, holding us hostage to fear.  God is calling us out, blowing the wind-of-the-Spirit, in, and around, and through us as a constant good news opportunity.
 
So when we refuse to hate in return for hate, refuse to be fearful in the face of violence – no matter how senseless and ugly – we give witness to the Light, and participate in the life of God’s glory, that it may take root, and grow, and thrive. 
 
Going to Shabbat as a Christian would have never occurred to me, not too long ago.  But today, it seems like a very important expression of my faith, and my belief that a Tree of Life can take root and grow, and its branches overshadow what is fearful and hate producing, in our culture. 
 
Today we celebrate All Saints, by remembering those we know, those we have loved and who have loved us.  Also those who have struggled in this life, relationships and moments with them we would like to take back, or wish we had a do over with, if they were still here.  We remember those who were our rock for us, and we have never been the same without.  Those we barely knew who died too young.  Those family who we loved; And those who were estranged from us. 
 
We celebrate and remember the saints we have named.  And we also celebrate those saints who are yet to be born. 
 
There is an old Scandinavian tradition that the communion rail around the table is in the shape of a semi-circle because, whenever we gather around to receive the bread and wine, in the meal of love and forgiveness, it encourages us to imagine the saints who have gone before us, and the saints yet to come, all at the one table of the LORD, all together with us.  They are dining with us somewhere around the imaginary, other half of the circle, that is not visible, but certainly present, as real as the power of love. 
 
We celebrate that on this All Saints Sunday, God is calling us out of our fear of death, of fear-itself, and into the culture of the power of forgiveness and love.  We can’t do it all, on our own, but only in supportive communities, with those who believe along with us. 
 
Though we may feel like the grave cloths are still clinging to our hands and our feet, binding us, and the struggle to believe is overwhelming, we know Jesus is
calling. 
 
Even amidst all the tears, Lazarus, the dead man, comes out, a living contradiction, and testimony, to the glory of God, that can never die. 
 
And so, with all the saints, with all the children of Abraham, with the awesome diversity we can create in our communities – our faith is nurtured and is alive.  Together, the power of Love, is stronger than hate and death.