Imperfect Saints
Luke 6:20-31
I have had a longstanding love of the saints and of All Saints Day. I might trace my early love of the saints to our chapel book starting in first grade. Our chapel book at my Episcopal school had a simple bulletin of sorts and a selection of hymns that were particularly easy to sing and easier for young minds to comprehend. It included the beloved song, “I Sing a Song of the Saints of God.” Like any good Anglophile, I delighted in the thought of meeting saints at tea. More importantly, the idea that all of us normal everyday people could be saints was in my mind early and has always felt somewhat obvious to me.
The hymn originated as a poem that was used for the instruction of children. It talks about the ordinary and extraordinary lives of saints—someone slain by a fierce wild beast, or doctors, or people you meet at sea. Singing that song so often as a child and belting out the words, “the saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too” taught me that in our relationship with God, we can work to be saints too.
Some of you may share this assumption that all of us are capable of being saints. And likely more of you have tension or at least some questions about saints and sainthood.
Many Protestant traditions do not celebrate the saints and some have discomfort with the very idea of saints. As our collect for today reminds us, we Episcopalians regard the saints as examples “in all virtuous and godly living.” The saints are those who have come before and who give us models of how to follow God.
Many Episcopal churches even have patron saints who they are named after. These saints offer a unique witness for the church to aspire to in their ministry. Saints serve as models and guides for us.
All Saints Day celebrates those faithful departed who have paved a way for us and who have given us a vision of godly living. For me, All Saints Day is equal part appreciation for and memory of our faithful ancestors and guides and part discerning our way of being faithful ancestors, or saints, for those who come after us.
In our gospel passage today, we hear Jesus’ blessings and woes. We might consider these as a description of sainthood, of a faithful Christian life. Jesus’ sermon on the plain is part proclamation and part pastoral instruction.
He offers these words directly to his disciples, but many others seem to overhear the instructions. The proclamation Jesus offers tells the disciples what life looks like in the kin-dom of God. If you thought that wealth and ease in this life are signs of blessing, Jesus comes along to say that it is actually those who are poor and hungry who will be blessed in God’s reign. The hungry will be filled; those who weep and mourn will laugh and rejoice. People who are hated, excluded, and defamed because of their faith in the Son of God are blessed and will receive a great reward. The life to which Jesus ascribes blessing sounds uncomfortable.
The life of the blessed is mirrored by the woes to people who are rich, full, and laughing. Woe to you who have plenty and yet do not share with those who lack. Jesus offers warnings to those who live with comfortable excess, and I would imagine this is at least in part because of the unjust systems their lives and actions help to secure. They are compared with false prophets who are loved and celebrated in their day but are ultimately lacking in faith and godliness.
Jesus also offers pastoral instruction. We are to love our enemies and do good to those who hate us. We are to offer the other cheek when someone strikes us. Mind you, this does not mean you must stay in relationship with someone who has abused you. But it does mean that we ought to pray for people who have hurt us.
Jesus instructs us to give without hope of return. We are to do to others not as they actually do to us, but as we might hope they would do to us. Jesus drives the point home, even sinners love those who love them and lend to receive as much in return. The bar is higher for the children of the Most High.
Does this sound impossible? Does loving your enemies and praying for them sound hard? Does living with discomfort sound, well, uncomfortable?
I assume I am not the only one who hears these instructions and thinks, “there is no way I can fully measure up to that.” “That sounds like a level of perfection I can’t reach.” Can I get an Amen?
Well, here is the thing about sainthood. It is NOT a matter of human will and strength. Saints are not people with superhuman emotional regulation, with pure and perfect thoughts, or with the ability to always give of themselves freely. Saints are people who allow God to work through them and through their lives. Saints trust that, with God, our imperfect selves can live godly lives. Sainthood involves a recognition that we are beautifully imperfect vessels of God’s creation who can bring God’s grace and love into the world. By God, and with God, and in God, sainthood is possible.
All Saints Day is an opportunity to give thanks for the ways Christ moves through ordinary people. We give thanks for God’s grace and power at work in the world through our ancestors and through each of us.
In her book Accidental Saints, Lutheran pastor and public theologian Nadia Bolz-Weber reminds us that when we celebrate All Saints Day, we are celebrating a whole bunch of imperfect people. All Saints, not just some of the saints. Not just the people we regard as worthy. Not just the saints who align with our particular vision. All of the faithful departed who did their best to love and follow God. All of those who have done great things in the service of the Body of Christ, even if their full memory bears imperfections and misdoings.
In Christ, redemption is possible. Just as our patron, St. Paul, went from persecutor of Jesus followers to zealous follower himself, our worst days and our greatest misdeeds are not the fullness of who we are. Each day is an opportunity to follow God anew. Each day is a chance to try to join the many saints of God.
Personal responsibility is still important. This is true in the case of Paul who did cause harm to many followers before his conversion. His words have also been used to harm in the centuries since. There is also still reason to critique those widely recognized saints who were enslavers. Sainthood requires redemption that can only come through the crucified and risen Christ. Sainthood does not require perfection and simultaneously does not absolve all earthly harms. Still, the Body of Christ changes things.
Jesus reminds us, “love your enemies; do good to those who hate you; bless those who curse you; pray for those who mistreat you.” We celebrate an imperfect roster of saints, and we pray for those who have hurt us, knowing that their sainthood is possible as well. Our prayers for them invite their restoration and redemption. Our active love and care for them brings them into the Body of Christ. There is a redemption arch beyond our understanding.
Nadia Bolz-Weber ends her book with a series of blessings. They are beatitudes for imperfect and accidental saints. I’ll end similarly today.
Blessed are you who are deeply aware of your imperfections and shortcomings, may you know God’s goodness and mercy.
Blessed are you who grieve, hurt, and suffer, may you know the healing power of Jesus Christ.
Blessed are you who are seeking to restore troubled relationships and those of you who have set necessary boundaries for your well-being; may you know the ultimate restoration and unity that comes in the Body of Christ.
Blessed are you who are alone, cast out, and hated. Blessed are you who feel rejected, unlovable, and mistreated, may you experience love and joy in God’s kin-dom.
Blessed are each of you who allow God to use you as an imperfect vessel. May you know the ways your life is a witness to Christian sainthood, because of God and not just your own might.
Blessed are those who are to be baptized today and blessed are those whose faith is known to God alone; may you rejoice in the communion of saints who surround you this day and always.
Blessed are you my siblings in Christ. May we work together, as normal everyday imperfect people, to become the saints of God and the ancestral guides for faithful people to come.
Amen.
© 2022 The Rev. Adelyn Tyler-Williams
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church – Fayetteville, Arkansas