Surrendering to Saintliness

Sermon for All Saints (Observed)

Saint Peter's | Arlington, VA

Matthew 5:1-12

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Good morning, Saints.

Between all of the saints of the Church there exists a spiritual bond.

The faithful existence and stories of both those past and present are bound up together. This is what we celebrate on this feast day—and it is a belief that is both deeply powerful and a source of great comfort.

Each and every saint, in the words of this morning’s collect, has been “knit together in the mystical body of Christ.” Even in physical absence then, those who have gone before us—perhaps including those who we have shared our lives with—remain present with us as part of a “great cloud of witnesses.”

A connection remains between the Saints known and unknown; between those who are living and those who have died. This communion of saints endures throughout all ages.

This morning, I found myself wondering just what makes a saint? And so that we might also be counted in that number, what are the “qualifications” of saintliness?

Perhaps someone who has modeled this for you now comes to mind—a mentor, a grandparent, a friend. For myself, a few personal heroes come readily to my thoughts.

People like Thomas Merton and Martin Luther King, Jr., or the first eleven women ordained in the Episcopal Church—all of whom share wisdom from the depths of their spiritual lives and demonstrate courage with a prophetic clarity. Or the poet, George Herbert, whose writings capture the profound beauty to be known in our lives so well that he facilitates our experience of it.

I could continue on for some time... Indeed, all of these persons lived great lives. And as such each is included in our Anglican calendar of saints. But what makes their lives truly worthy of our emulation is a bit different from what we might initially think...

So, to gain a more clear understanding of what it means to be a saint, we need look no further than today’s gospel lesson... These are the words Jesus uses to launch his public teaching ministry. “The Beatitudes,” as they are known, are part of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, where he lays out the good news he has come to deliver...

“Blessed are...” the poor in spirit, the meek, those who mourn... It makes for an interesting inaugural address. And, I have to admit, with the immense grief in our world and present in this room with the sudden loss of Polly Hussain, it is not so easy to hear these words.

They don’t fit neatly within expectations, and certainly not within those of Jesus’ hearers.

It is from a mountainside in a region that has long known the reality of conflict, exile, and an ongoing struggle for survival that Jesus proclaims: “blessed are those who are persecuted.”

These are the words offered to a people who know the feeling of hungering and thirsting for righteousness deep within their bones. And it is within this very state that Jesus suggests they are blessed.

Within meekness and humility, they are blessed.

Within yet unfulfilled longings for peace, they are blessed.

Within the ache and sadness of mourning, Jesus says, you are blessed.

It is a different, perhaps even strange claim to make. It may even seem counterintuitive to our conditioned ears. This isn’t the superficial way “blessing” is spoken of in pop culture. And in a far more substantive way, increasingly prominent movements like the prosperity gospel or White Christian Nationalism actually suggest quite the opposite—that “blessedness” will be achieved by merit. And once achieved it will be preserved through coercive power. No matter how mainstream these ideologies may become though, they stand in direct contrast to the beatitudes.

What is so striking in this teaching is what Jesus doesn’t say...

He doesn’t say it is those who have already obtained the object of their yearning who are blessed. He doesn’t say it is those who have conquered or successfully imposed their will upon others who are blessed.

Rather, Jesus declares that blessings unfolds in the present moment. Blessing is beyond our control and is not earned through might; it is simply a thing to be received.

And this is just where saintliness begins.

It is not those who have moved beyond a need for God who are blessed. It is not some elite status. The paradox here is that those who set out on a quest to master a saintly life have already failed. Because sainthood is not determined by what is achieved, accomplished, or acquired.

The key that opens the goodness of Gods’ Kingdom is quite simply this: faith.

It is within the need of God’s provision and deliverance and love that we know the lavish blessing God desires to give. Saints are those who know this. And in placing their trust in this hope their lives are so shaped they are then led deep into the life of the world—that they might share it with others. With faith that rises from both “ineffable joy” and grief, the blessed saints of God are just folk like me and you.

In our celebration of All Saints Day and in the baptismal covenant we will affirm in just a few moments, we trust that as beloved children of God, blessedness is our birthright.

As James Baldwin puts it,

“Our crown has already been brought and paid for. All we have to do is wear it.”

Amen.