Wisdom 3:1-9; Psalm 24; Rev 21:1-6a; Luke 6:20-31
“Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.”
It’s funny how close weeping and laughing can be sometimes. I remember those times when our kids were young. We’d be rough housing and having a wonderful time. The giggles of a baby and a young child are a sound like no other. But it so often happened that at some unexpected point someone would get overstimulated and laughter would suddenly and inexplicably turn to tears and the fun came to a crashing halt.
There are those times after funerals, sharing a meal and remembering the one we’ve lost, when the stories start to flow. In the same way that weeping can spread through a crowd, laughter can spread through a crowd of exhausted mourners as they remember the life of the one who has passed on. The grandfather who’s pants fell down in the middle of his 90th birthday party. The quietly suffering uncle who always came alive while watching the movie “Casablanca”. The father who had an annoying song and a groaner joke for every occasion. The mother who put such love into every meal she made. The sister who hogged the only bathroom because she was always getting ready for that ‘big date’. The son who was always teasing his younger siblings yet made sure no one messed with them at school. So many loved ones to weep and to laugh for.
Then there are those who were not even relatives. The elderly man at the end of the street who had his own tennis court, and gave lessons to any neighborhood kid who wanted them.
The mild-mannered Methodist minister who suddenly became an amazing pillar of strength when a young teen died in the community he served. When everyone else ran the other way to escape the grief that was happening, he was like a fireman running into a burning building.
The elderly woman who always gave out the best Halloween candy, going so far as to invite the groups of kids in and take pictures so that she could see them grow up in the albums she displayed each year.
The young woman from down the street who postponed college plans and joined the military after 9-11, who became a Navy medic and saved countless lives from the deadly shrapnel of explosive devices, and who gave her own life to protect the wounded during combat.
Countless parents, teachers, neighbors, civic leaders, soldiers, police, firefighters, doctors, clergy; those who dedicated their lives to teach us, to help us, to love us, and to save us.
“Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.”
When Jesus spoke these words he was speaking to his disciples, not to the crowds around them. He may have included the crowd in the conversation so that they would know what kind of leaders the disciples were called to be. But Jesus spoke to the disciples so that there would be no question about the cost of discipleship to them, to their families, and to their lives. These first Saints of the church: Simon/Peter and his brother Andrew; James and John the sons of Zebedee; Philip; Bartholomew; Matthew; Thomas; James son of Alphaeus; Simon the Zealot; Judas son of James; and Judas Iscariot. These were the twelve who would soon weep. These are the ones who chose poverty, who chose hunger, who accepted being hated and excluded, reviled and defamed because of their devotion to their Lord and Savior. These are the ones called by Jesus himself to be our examples, our Saints. Jesus called them in the witness of the crowds to “love their enemies, to do good for those who hated them, to bless those who would curse them, to pray for those who would abuse them, to turn the other cheek, to give even their underclothes to the one who took their shirt, to give to everyone who begged from them, to allow themselves to be stolen from, and especially to do to others as they would have done to themselves.”
Jesus also warned the disciples not to “accumulate possessions, not to enjoy the comfort of a full stomach all the time, not to distance and anesthetize themselves from the pain and suffering of the world around them, to embrace the suffering and humanity of others and not to be people pleasers by their words and actions.”
The disciples and all the followers did a lot of weeping, especially after Jesus’ death. This world was a place of weeping long before Jesus came, and has been and will continue to be long after his death. But in the midst of all that weeping there have been and are bright spots among us. The Saints from scripture like Saint Paul, the saints from our lives, the saints in our families who have died. Today we come together to honor them, to give thanks for them, to weep for the laugher we had with them before they were gone, and to say, “Thank you” to them, and especially to God from whom they were a gift to us.
We’re also here to laugh, to smile and feel the warmth in our hearts as we remember the love we shared, and to dream about that day when we are all together again on the other side of creation. We smile through our tears because although we weep now at our separation, one day each of us will laugh again as we are reunited at that heavenly banquet where we and all the saints gather together in the presence of our blessed Lord and Savior who through his suffering and anguish made it all possible.
“Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.”
Grief is a strange animal. One minute you’re petting a warm kitty and the next you’re being ravaged by a tiger. Sometimes it’s like a warm, gentle, sleepy summer breeze that caresses your body, and sometimes it’s like a hurricane that pelts you with hail and seems determined to drown you. Grief is like an unexpected tide; one moment you’re only ankle deep in it and the next moment it’s crashing over your head and knocking you to the ground.
Grief is part of us as we remember those saints who have gone before us. Whether it’s that small twinge when we remember someone long dead, or the inability to breathe as we remember someone we just lost, grief is a part of remembering and it always will be. But that doesn’t mean that grief is a bad thing. Grief only happens because of love, because we let our guard down and let someone into the deepest places of our hearts. Grief can’t exist without love, and although sometimes it feels as though grief is the strongest emotion, and one we sometimes feel may swallow us and we will never find our way out of again, we have a merciful and powerful God who offers us hope.
Look around at all the memorials in this beautiful space. These people wept just like we do. They grieved for their loved ones who passed on, the mothers and the brothers and the best friends, just like we do. The wept and they suffered, they succumbed to disease and were killed in wars. They were imperfect and had all the weaknesses we have. But unlike us… can you hear that? If you listen really quietly you can hear… yup, it’s laughter. All these people memorialized in this blessed space no longer weep, they laugh. All those loved ones you hold in the depths of your human heart no longer weep; no matter how young or how horribly or how long ago they died, they laugh now.
And because of what Jesus Christ did for you and for me and for them, we get to spend a brief time with all our beloved departed each and every time we celebrate the Eucharist. There’s an ancient Greek word used in the Gospels during the Last Supper, “anamnesis”. English translates this word into “remember”, or in the negative, “do not forget”. But anamnesis means more than just remembering or not forgetting. It means “make it a part of you”, “become a part of it”. When we celebrate Eucharist we not only remember the Last Supper, we also take part in it. And not only we who are here today… everyone who ever took part in Eucharist, and everyone who is taking part in Eucharist at this moment, and everyone who will ever take part in Eucharist… we, all of us, are together for that brief time when Jesus is made real to us in the breaking of the bread. During Eucharist, we, together will all the saints, are transported out of time and space to be in the presence of one another with our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
And so as we celebrate the lives of the Saints, and remember the saints in our own lives, and realize that we are all saints in the Body of Christ, we come together at the altar to give thanks for the love that made us and all our loves possible. Today we have one more thing to give thanks to during the “Great Thanksgiving” called the Eucharistic Prayer – the Communion of Saints.
“Blessed are we who weep now, for we will laugh.”