"What We Will Be”

A sermon by the Rev. Dr. Hilary J. Barrett

Preached at Pleasantville United Church of Christ, November 2, 2008,

1 John 3:1-3; Revelation 7:9-17; Matthew 5:1-12

“Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed.  
What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is.”

I am sure there have been more beautiful autumns, but I do not think I can remember one.  I probably say this every year.  The beauty of the fall has a way of sneaking up on me.  The colors change from glory into glory and this year the transformation has been sweet and slow and wondrous.  And who could have expected that we would have snow before Halloween on top of it all?  Yet one more wondrous color to add to the mix.  I love to be out of doors in this season.  The world is luminous.  The sun shining through the golden leaves makes everything glow with a holy light.  Perhaps that is why the seventeenth century poet John Donne said that “in heaven it is always autumn.”  His words come into my mind daily in this season.

It was in his Christmas Day sermon in the year 1624 that he spoke those words.  He was trying to teach his congregation about the nature of God’s mercy and he was comparing the difference between the seasons of the natural world and the steady grace and abundance of God’s mercy.  Listen to how he put it:

God made sun and moon to distinguish the seasons, and day and night; and we cannot have the fruits of the earth but in their seasons. But God hath made no decrees to distinguish the seasons of His mercies. In Paradise the fruits were ripe the first minute, and in heaven it is always autumn, his mercies are ever in their maturity.  We ask our daily bread, and God never says you should have come yesterday, he never says you must again to-morrow, but to-day if you will hear his voice, to-day he will hear you…he brought light out of darkness, not out of a lesser light; he can bring thy summer out of winter, though thou have no spring; though in the ways of fortune, or understanding; or conscience, thou have been benighted till now, wintred and frozen, clouded and eclipsed, damped and benumbed, smothered and stupefied till now, now God comes to thee, not as in the dawning of the day, not as in the bud of the spring, but as the sun at noon, to illustrate all shadows, as the sheaves in the harvest, to fill all penuries, all occasion invite his mercies, and all times are his seasons.[1] 

I know there are faithful Christians in the Southern Hemisphere; loads of them, I’m sure.  But I confess I cannot imagine what it’s like to celebrate the seasons of the Christian Year when the natural seasons are in opposition to our own.  Think about it.  When we are in winter they are in summer.  When we are in fall they are in spring.  How does one celebrate Christmas in the summer?  How does one remember the saints in the early bud of spring, rather than during this time of year, when the light is luminous and the trees softly lose their leaves?

It seems so fitting that we, here, in the Northern Hemisphere choose this time of year to remember those who have gone before – now; when the earth around us is so visibly changing, preparing for the long sleep of winter.  It seems fitting that, at this time, our thoughts turn to those who “fallen asleep,” as the scriptures have put it.  As the harvest is being gathered in, we choose this time of year to remember the Saints.

And so I invite you to join me in remembering the saints, because the church is founded on the act of remembering.  We remember the story of Jesus, and that act of remembering braids our lives together with one another's, with those Christians who have gone before, and with the very heart of the Creator.  We remember the Christian story, which is still in the making.  We are makers of Christian history too.  We are also the saints.  We will be remembered as well.  Now is our time to tell that story and to make that history.

We have some wondrous images from scripture this morning to lead us in our reflections about the saints.  The first is a brief but beautiful phrase from John’s first letter to us, and it says simply:  “what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is.”  What a wonderful truth: “what we will be has not yet been revealed.”  And what a wonderful promise: “when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is.”

That language spoke to me: “what we will be.”  And it speaks to me not only of what we will be in God’s heavenly home.  But also of what we will be when all of God’s plans for us have come to fruition…  What we will be…Well, what will we be?

The second reading comes from the book of the Revelation to John.  John creates a more expansive image: 

After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands…and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”[2]

The third reading I want to remind you of is our gospel lesson from last week.  In that text, Jesus showed us how, in the Resurrection, people would become wondrously transformed; they would become “like angels in heaven.”[3]

What will we be?  Well listen to these promises of scripture to find out:

We will be like him; able to see him as he is (1 John 3:1-3).

We will be part of a great multitude from every nation and every tribe – all standing before the throne (Revelation 7:9-17)

We will be like the angels, wondrously transformed from what we are to what we shall become (Matthew 23:1-12).

We will be gathered in worship, endlessly praising “the one who is seated on the throne” (Revelation 7:9-17).

We will be sheltered from life’s burdens (Revelation 7:9-17).

We will be in a place where hunger will be no more; and thirst will be no more; where the sun will not strike us by day nor the moon by night (Revelation 7:9-17 & Psalm 121).

We will be guided to springs of living water and every tear will be wiped from our eyes by God’s own mighty and merciful hand (Revelation 7:9-17).

What we will be has not yet been revealed.  But, O, what is promised!

On All Saints’ Sunday in the Church’s Year, the church in its wisdom gives us beautiful scriptures to guide us in our reflections; scriptures which paint a wondrous picture of what has been promised to those who love God.  And then there is also this lesson from Matthew’s gospel.  There is this central teaching of Jesus – the Beatitudes; the Blessings:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit…”
“Blessed are those who mourn…”
“Blessed are the meek…”
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness…”

On this day when we remember the saints who have gone before us, and on this day when we dwell upon the promises we have from holy scripture, it seems fitting that we are also meant to know that what we will be is even now being born in us.  What we will be has something to do with what we are now.

What will we be?  We will be saints – called to be followers of Jesus Christ.

Last Monday afternoon I had the privilege of hearing a great man speak at a public forum offered at Weidner University.  The man was Paul Rusesabagina.  He is the man whose story is told in the film, “Hotel Rwanda.”

The film, “Hotel Rwanda” tells the story of how one man made a difference.  In 1994, one of the worst atrocities in human history took place in the country of Rwanda.  In 100 days, one million people were brutally murdered because of racial and ethnic hatred.  Paul Rusesabagina was the manager of the Hotel des Diplomatic in Kigali, Rwanda.  He was credited with sheltering over a thousand Tutsi refugees during their struggle against the Hutu militia in Rwanda.  Paul was a man who would not turn his back on his friends, family and neighbors. 

On Monday he spoke to a crowd about his experience and then he received their questions.  One of the Weidner students asked him, “What kept you strong?”  And his response was, “Was I strong?”  He said, “I don’t know if I was strong.”  He said, “I tried to remain the normal human being I am; we don’t need to change – because when we change we become a stranger to ourselves and others.”

In the midst of unspeakable actions, this ordinary man was able to hold onto his humanity.  He was able to remain the normal human being that he was, despite the fact that all around him people were losing their humanity.  He knew that, if he were to change from the normal human being that he was, he would become a stranger to himself and to others.

Celebrating All Saints’ Day is about remembering the saints who have gone before us.  It is about honoring their wisdom and making holy their memory.  But All Saints’ Day is also about remembering that we, ourselves, are saints in the making.  We, too, are writing histories of the church as we live.  We, too, are in the process of becoming what we will be.  More and more like Him, we pray.

The season of autumn is filled with holy, luminous light.  It is a season when the harvest is being gathered in.  It is a season which reminds us that – like crops that ripen and are harvested -- in God’s economy, everything is brought to its full and timely maturity.  Let us be grateful for those who show us what it means to live as saints; who offer us a glimpse of what we will be.

As we conclude this morning, I invite you to join with me in an Affirmation of Faith that comes from Paul’s letter to the church in Rome.  It is an affirmation so important to the church that it has been routinely incorporated into funeral services for generations and generations.

If you are able, will you rise and join with me in this great scriptural promise:

We believe there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, and we know that in everything God works for good with those who love God, who are called according to God’s purpose. We are sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.  Amen.