A Great Cloud of Witnesses
Ecclesiasticus 44:1-10, 13-14
One week ago today at
this time, I was sitting in a pew in my family’s church in Northern
Indiana. Clifford and I and my brothers and their families
occupied five short pews. That little church has struggled and
flourished and struggled again and again over the years. Right
now it is experiencing one of its lows. In an attempt to please
everyone, the decision makers decided that the 10 o’clock service
should offer service booklets, the Book of Common Prayer, and…on the
wall behind the altar a projection screen with the Nicene Creed,
the Lord’s Prayer, words of hymns and the weekly announcements, among
other things. A piano, guitar, flute, bongo drums and hand-held
instruments for the children replaced the organ on that Sunday.
Praise music and traditional hymns were sung in equal numbers. There
was both a children’s sermon and an adult sermon. The children were in
church for the beginning of the service (and their sermon) and then
went to Sunday school classes and returned in time for communion. It
was all a bit overwhelming, at least for me.
My grandfather was rector of that small church from 1907 to 1917.
I’m not sure if he served during one of the highs or one of the
lows. I know he must have struggled at times because he was deaf
from an untreated ear infection during his seminary years at Faribault,
Minnesota. I know he officiated using the 1892 Book of
Common Prayer and that he and my grandmother and their four sons lived
next door to the church in the rectory which was torn down some years
ago to make room for a church parking lot. I really know very
little about him. He left no journals or diaries that might have
recorded his sorrows and his joys. There is no trace of the
sermons he prepared and presented. Since he died before I was
born, I have only his obituary and some old photos to examine trying to
catch a glimpse of who he was — my grandfather, The Rev. Henry Stephen
Streeter, buried behind our little Indiana church, a member of the
church at rest — and I think probably a saintly man but also a very
human one.
When I read today’s passage from Ecclesiasticus (44:1-10, 13-14), I thought of him. Here’s what it says:
“But of others there is no memory; they have
perished as though they had never existed; they have become as though
they had never been born, they and their children after them. But
those were also godly men, whose righteous deeds have not been
forgotten…Their offspring will continue forever, and their glory will
never be blotted out. Their bodies are buried in peace, but their
name lives on generation after generation.”
All week I thought of that church service and I thought of
my grandfather. I wondered if he had been as resistant to change
as I sometimes am. I wondered what he would have thought about the
service. The projection screen probably would have been out of
his comfort zone. It certainly was very difficult for me to
consider it with an open mind. I will be honest. I didn’t view it
with an open mind. But as I reflected this week on the whole
experience, my thinking shifted. No, I still am put off by the
projection screen but I keep thinking about those pews filled with my
grandfather’s descendants. His offspring, his four sons, are now
part of the church at rest but their children and their children and
their children filled the pews. My brother, Bob, led Evening Prayer
last Wednesday. My brother, Steve, is on the vestry. My
brother, David, is teaching an excellent adult education class on the
Old Testament. My niece, Julie, is discerning a call to become a
vocational deacon. I don’t imagine any of them will ever make the list
in the Calendar of the Church Year. And being my relatives and
members of the human race, they are just as imperfect and, at the same
time, resistant to change as I am.
Yet, with all their imperfections, they are touched and healed and
enabled by God’s grace. Like me, they stumble and sin and resist
change and make poor choices sometimes. Yet, like all of us, that
still small voice is within each of them. Sometimes they hear it;
sometimes they don’t. And sometimes as a church community,
they stumble and sin and resist change — both good and bad and make
poor choices. It is true for that church community, all church
communities and the church at large. Sometimes we turn our backs and
walk away. Yet, in the words of Eucharistic Prayer C, “Again and
again you call us to return.” When we turn backs on him, he is
still there waiting to accept us with all our imperfections. When
we ask, we are given the faith and the courage to try again. God
remains faithful to us in spite of our failures and during our
struggles both as individuals and as communities.
One of my favorite books is Lesser Feasts and Fasts. It
contains the Calendar of the Church Year from the Book of Common
Prayer. The greatest portion of the book is dedicated to the
celebration of the Lesser Feasts. At first glance, the saintly
persons honored seem to have little in common with each other. They are
both male and female. They are both young and old. They are
both scholarly and illiterate. They are both from centuries ago
and from the fairly recent past. They lived all over the
world. In addition to the Propers for a particular day, there is
a short biography of the person who is being remembered. Those
biographies are fascinating. It strikes me that in such a diverse
group of people, there is a common thread that binds them. God’s
grace and their faith allowed those often ordinary people to shine with
extraordinary brilliance.
The Guidelines for adding persons to the church calendar mirror the
saintly qualities that are evident in people everywhere. All
these qualities don’t exist in equal measure in any one person that I
know but individuals in that Indiana church and in the St. James’
community display a wonderful mix of goodness and saintliness. I would
like to share the list with you.
It is important to note the caveat that introduces the list: “The
Church commemorates persons, not abstract qualities. Nevertheless, it
does look for certain traits in those whom it chooses specially to
commemorate.”
Here’s the list as it is written:
1) Heroic faith. This means bearing witness to God in Christ “against the odds.”
2) Love. “If I have all faith so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.
3) Goodness of life. People worthy of commemoration will have worked for the good of others.
4) Joyousness. As faith is
incomplete without love, so does love involve “rejoicing in the
spirit”—whether in the midst of extraordinary trials, or in the midst
of the ordinary rounds of daily live.
5) Service to others for Christ’s sake.
“There are varieties of gifts…and there are varieties of service.
The Church recognizes that just as human needs are diverse, so also are
forms of Christian service—both within the Church and in the world.
6) Devotion. People who
are worthy of commemoration have shown evidence of seeking God through
the means of grace which the Church recognizes, having devoted
themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of
the bread and the prayers.
These aren’t qualities found only in “the Church at rest”
but also in “the pilgrim Church”—those living today. The communion of
Saints includes those who have died, those who live now and those who
will come after us. As I reflected on this list, I thought of how
these qualities are evident in this congregation. I invite you to do
the same. I think you will be amazed at the strong thread of
faith that binds us together and is demonstrated in countless ways by
countless saintly people.
By God’s grace, a great cloud of witnesses came before us, lives among us and will endure beyond us.
Amen.
The Rev. Betsy Porter
Novemeber 4, 2007
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