All Faithful Departed, Nov. 3, 2008

Wisdom 3:1-9
1 Corinthians 15:50-58
John 5:24-27
Psalm 130

“The Days of the Dead”

Today we are observing all Soul’s day, or more properly, the rememberance of All Faithful Departed. Along with Halloween and All Saint’s Day, it is one of the three traditional “Days of the Dead”. It is the day to commemorate those who, in the medieval Latin tradition, had not yet been cleansed of their sins and were waiting in purgatory. The Church had taken upon itself the duty of absolving the dead of their sins, retroactively, by saying, and sometimes selling, masses for the dead. This practice was greatly abused in the Middle Ages and the reformers, most especially Martin Luther, would have none of it. God saves souls, the church does not. We cannot dispute the truth of that.

In some cultures such as Mexico, these souls are thought to be still wandering the earth, waiting to be taken to heaven. So there are festivals and great parades of ghosts and goblins. Children go from door to door begging food to give to their loved ones in case they come home for dinner one more time. There are strong pagan origins for some of this, but it has been adapted to a quasi Christian context. This may all seem like just a childish fantasy or an excuse to collect candy on beggar’s night. But I wonder how many of us still set a place at the table for an absent loved one, or leave a child’s room untouched for years after they are lost. Is it because we don’t have the heart to take these things away, or do we harbor the fantasy that they might yet return? Many of us need the chance to reconcile ourselves to our losses, and perhaps that is why we continue to have this special liturgy.

The observance of this day has continued in Roman Catholic, Orthodox, and some Anglican churches. And in the 1979 prayerbook, All Soul’s Day has been restored to the calendar of the Episcopal Church. There is now a renewed appreciation of this day as a way of remembering our dead and setting apart time for grieving. All Saint’s Day is a triumphal celebration, almost like Easter, to celebrate the saints of the church, and to honor our own dead. But the tone of All Saints almost makes me feel guilty about grieving. It is a time to celebrate, not to grieve. I sometimes feel a little left out. It is all white vestments and big music and a general celebratory atmosphere. It is a day for baptisms and renewal of baptismal vows. Most of us celebrated this great feast on “All Saints Sunday” yesterday. It is this day, the day after, when we are allowed to quietly remember those who are personally known to us and for whom we grieve. It is not a triumph, it is a funeral. The music is a solemn requiem, the vestments are black. And tears are permitted. I doubt that we are praying unabsolved sinners out of purgatory, but I do think that many of us have unreconciled feelings about those who have died. There are things that should have been said but never were. There are forgiveness, apology, and good-byes that didn’t quite happen. No matter how much warning there may have been, death often seems to come too soon. We may think we are ready, but we are not.

Life can be hectic and busy. And we may have convinced ourselves that we have no business being sad. I hear some TV evangelists telling people that they are not allowed to be sad because they are saved and Jesus loves them. It is all joy, joy, joy. I have news for them. It isn’t. There are plenty of reasons to be sad and it does not mean that we are not good Christians. It does not mean that we have denied our faith or anything like that. Christians have every reason to be optimists. But we cannot be “up” all the time. It is an unreasonable standard and just adds guilt to grief. After all, even Jesus wept for Lazarus. I think when we deny ourselves this opportunity, we deny our own humanity.

This service is not a funeral for any individuals. It is a commemoration of all the faithful departed for whom we still mourn. But at the end of this service, we are using this opportunity to commit the ashes of two sisters, Grace Mildred Swain and Marguerite Virginia Swain, to our columbarium. They are mother and aunt to Carol Cavinee. They were close in life as only sisters can be, and they will spend eternity together. They will share the same niche in our columbarium. With their other sisters, they shared jokes and secrets and even their own secret language (piglatin). They took trips together, even a cruise though they were afraid of the water, Mildred was outgoing and friendly with a ready smile. She had trouble remembering names but with her smile and wit could often fake her way through it anyway. She was active until the day of her death. And she loved thunderstorms. It thundered loudly the day she died, maybe announcing her transition into the next life. Margurite was a traveler, always on the go. She was loving, kind and generous. Somehow it seems fitting that these devoted sisters will be together forever. It closes yet another chapter in lives well lived.

In tonight’s gospel, he says that the hour is here when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live. The death and resurrection of Jesus Christ converted the sting of death into victory. Death became new life in Christ. We do not need to grieve for Mildred and Margurite and all the other souls who have moved on. They are nearer to God. This liturgy is for the living who have stayed behind who may feel sad and lonely. It is our opportunity for reconciliation, acceptance, and closure. As long as we live, we will miss our loved ones. But there is a time to let go.

Halloween, All Saint’s Day and All Soul’s Day are the “Days of the Dead”. I suspect they occur at this time of year because it is the transition time from fall into winter. The earth looks like it is dying, but it is not. We know that there will be new life again in the spring. We will celebrate the resurrection and watch the earth turn green and vibrant once again. But for now this season is a time to mourn and to remember. We don’t need to deny or defer our grief. It is not an admission of failure. It is just the pain of separation. But sadness is not despair. In the midst of our tears, we must not forget that we have been promised a new life in Christ and that our faith will make us free. And when we finally stand before the throne of the Lamb, we can be confident that God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. Amen.