Today I’m leaving for our annual Board of Ordained Ministry retreat.  No, I’m not on the board.   This is the time when we probationary members have our annual interviews.  We get together at one of the Methodist camps for fellowship and interviews about this time every year.  This is my second year, so hopefully this will be my next-to-last time to be there as an interviewee.

This is such a long and complicated process, and it is one that I have mixed feelings about.  On one hand, I appreciate the selectivity we have for UM pastors.  On the other hand, if we really have a clergy shortage, I don’t think drawing the process out a decade does much to remedy that.  Anyway, I don’t have any better ideas right now, and until I do, I’m not going to complain much.

Guy Clark is one of my favorite artists. He has a wonderful song that really captures a feeling that I get every now and then. It’s called That Old Time Feelin’, and here are the words:

And that old time feelin’ goes sneakin’ down the hall,
Like an old gray cat in winter, keepin’ close to the wall.
And that old time feelin’ comes stumblin’ up the street,
Like an old salesman kickin’ the papers from his feet.

And that old time feelin’ draws circles around the block,
Like old women with no children, holdin’ hands with the clock.
And that old time feelin’ fall on it’s face in the park,
Like and old wino prayin’ he can make it ’till it’s dark.

And that old time feelin’ comes and goes in the rain,
Like an old man with his checkers, dyin’ to find a game.
And that old time feelin’ plays for beer in bars,
Like and old blues-time picker who don’t recall who you are.

And that old time feelin’ limps through the night on a crutch,
Like an old soldier wonderin’ if he’s paid too much.
And that old time feelin’ rocks and spits and cries,
Like and old lover rememberin’ the girl with the clear blue eyes.

I don’t know that these words specifically refer to the way I’m feeling, but the song itself is definitely evocative of the general way I feel on days like today. It is sort of a homesickness. I read The Narnian a few weeks back, and it is the feeling I think C.S. Lewis referred to as Joy. Alan Jacobs describes joy in Lewis’ thought as follows,

“One cannot say it is exactly pleasurable – there is a kind of ache in the sense of unattainability that always accompanies the longing – and yet, as Lewis puts it, the quality of the experience ‘is that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction.’ This is why he calls it Joy: because the word longing fails to convey the desirability of the feeling itself.”

So, for what it’s worth, that’s how I’m feeling this morning. I’m not sure if it’s as desirable as Lewis describes, but it is certainly different than an ordinary day.

This Sunday, we celebrated All Saints’ Day. I preached from the Isaiah 25:6-9 & Revelation 21:1-6a texts. This is completely unedited and as most of you may know the final product from the pulpit is somewhat different than the manuscript. So, here you go:

Today we celebrate one of the great days in the Christian Year. On the first Sunday of November, many churches celebrate All Saints’ Day. The very first mention of this day is found in a sermon from the year 402 A.D., and for the last 1,600 years there have been churches who used this day to remember all of those who have died in the faith. Now this was definitely not a day that we ever celebrated or even mentioned in the little church I grew up in – most people, if they had ever heard of it, would probably associate it with the Catholic Church. However, in recent years there are more and more protestant churches that are beginning to celebrate this day, commemorating the faithful followers of Christ around the world, both living and dead. For the most part, All Saints’ Day has become a time to remember the faithful who have died in the year preceding that particular Sunday.

In some church traditions, being a saint is seen as something totally out of reach. We think of people like Mother Teresa – those people who have devoted their entire lives to service in Jesus’ name. Yet, being a saint is not out of reach. In fact, I believe that if today is to be a faithful time of celebrating the lives of ‘the saints,’ it should be a time when we lift up those ordinary women and men who practice their faith in the ins and outs of everyday life. Those are the kind of saints we need to imitate.

There is a classic story about one of these saints told by Tony Campolo. There was a man named Joe who was addicted to alcohol. By God’s grace he was converted to the Christian faith at a mission in one of the worst parts of New York City. Before his conversion, Joe was known – at best – as a dirty hopeless wino with no future. Following his conversion, something profound happened. Joe became the most caring person that anyone associated with the mission had ever known. He spent his days and nights “happening by” the mission to do whatever needed to be done. There wasn’t a single task that was too lowly for Joe to take on. There was never anything he was asked to do that he considered to be ‘beneath him.’ If a bathroom needed to have vomit mopped up, Joe was the man. If a toilet needed scrubbing, Joe was the man. Joe did anything he was asked with a kind smile and gratitude for getting the chance to help. He could be counted on to feed those feeble men who wandered into the mission off the streets, and to carefully prepare those for bed who were simply too far gone to take care of themselves. One evening, the director of the mission held a worship service and spoke to the usual crowd of still and sullen men with drooped heads. One man looked up, came down to the altar, knelt to pray, and began to sob. “Oh God, I’m ready to change.” The repentant man kept shouting, “Oh God, make me like Joe! Make me like Joe, dear God! Make me like Joe; make me like Joe!” Finally the director of the mission came, and knelt down beside the man to pray, “Son…I think it might be better if you prayed, ‘Dear God, make me like Jesus.’” The man looked up with tears in his eyes and a puzzled expression on his face. He asked, “Is he anything like Joe?”

That’s what it means to be a saint. We need to be like Joe! When people are around a saint, they know it. Saints are those people who follow Jesus so closely that he starts to rub off. When you look at a saint, there is something joyful and worthwhile about them – they embrace the world with one hand and God with the other. They’re people worth imitating.

Our scripture lessons for today demonstrate what awaits those beloved followers of Jesus, like Joe, have to look forward to after death. So often, we offer people condolences and talk about our loved ones being in a “better place.” Yet, do we really look forward to heaven? When I was a kid, my brother and I once talked about heaven. I remember us worrying that heaven would be just like church – except it would last even longer. Imagine: heaven itself is just like church that never ever lets out for lunch – an eternal Sunday morning service. Are you ready to sign up? Now, even though heaven is described in terms of eternally worshiping in God’s presence – it also uses the metaphors of those things in this world that we love the most. I’m going to take an unofficial poll here: Raise your hand if you like to eat. All-right – that looks like a 98%, at least – the other 2% are asleep! Isaiah is talking about what lies in store for the faithful and he says it’s like an all-you-can-eat buffet of the greatest food you can imagine: a feast of rich food, the best of the best! And on top of that, death is going to be taken care of for good – no more suffering, no more cancer, no more nursing homes, no more bad kidneys. God’s going to take care of everything that is wrong with this world – all our tears will be wiped away. Revelation then fills in some of the blanks from Isaiah – there’s going to be a new heaven and a new earth – it’s going to be like the most luscious wedding reception you’ve ever attended, except far better! “God’s home is going to be with humankind; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.” Now, does this sound like a never-ending Sunday service?

No way! This is the kind of vision that inspire people to live like Jesus! This is the kind of vision that inspires the ordinary Joes of the world! This is the kind of vision that make us want to be saints. To me, it takes a vision like this and the power of God to inspire the kind of life saints are called to live. Today we remember the saints – we remember the people in our lives who have stuck with the faith when everything went south. Today we remember the people in our lives who clung to their faith in spite of everything taking a nose-dive. Today we remember those people who loved life, who lived with a spirit of great joy, and who could find God in all the little things of our world. Today we remember those who looked at the mess they had made of their lives and turned it all over to God, accepting his grace, forgiveness, and salvation. Today we celebrate the countless Joes of our world. Today we celebrate the saints, and we look forward to that big family dinner that God has in store. Because, in the end, when all is said and done, God will wipe awa
y all of our tears, God will take away all of the pain of this world, and welcome us to the greatest celebration of all time – the celebration of his goodness and presence that will never, ever end.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Author and scholar, Scot McKnight has a new book coming out on Mary, the mother of Jesus. The title is, The Real Mary, Why Evangelical Christians can Embrace the Mother of Jesus. Check out this link to a pre-print excerpt and see what you think.

The Real Mary