Weekly sermons from the traditional and contemporary worship services at Church of the Incarnation in Dallas, Texas. Rooted in Scripture and the Anglican tradition, these messages explore how the gospel speaks to our faith, our everyday lives and the world around us.
Well today, as we've said, the church does celebrate All Saints Day, a
day to remember that what the Nicene Creed says is true.
That to be a Christian is to be placed into a
communion of saints.
But of all the phrases in the creed, this is perhaps the phrase we
understand the least. Because what is a saint?
And what does it mean to be placed into communion with
them? And why should we even care?
To answer those questions, two points this morning.
First, the definition of saints, and second, the
communion of saints. First, the definition.
In order to see what a saint is this morning, we really only need to look at
one word, and that is the word blessed.
Because for hundreds of years now, out of all the gospel passages the church could
choose to read on All Saints Day, we have chosen the
Beatitudes. And the Beatitudes, of course, are called the
Beatitudes because of the repetition of that word,
blessed. "Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness."
Nine times, blessed. In the Greek, the word is
makarios. And so to be a saint is to
be makarios. But what does that mean?
According to a Catholic scholar named Father Simeon, who I believe to be the best
living commentator on the Gospel of Matthew, and who's honestly
transformed the way I read the Beatitudes, this word
makarios is notoriously difficult to translate.
Simeon lays out multiple options.
He says some say makarios means happy,
but that is the worst option because happiness is so
psychological and subjective. And the Beatitudes are not
describing some subjective or inner state, but they're
describing something that is objective and permanent.
Others, like our translation, says makarios means
blessed, and that's better. But blessed can also
give us the wrong idea. It can tempt us to make the
Beatitudes into a sort of reward system,
into a type of equation where A equals
B, or if leads to then.
And so if I will simply become the sort of person
described on the other side of that word are,
if I will become meeker or more merciful or
purer in heart, then God will finally bless me and
approve of me and reward me.
But the Beatitudes are not, and have never been, some sort of
spiritual homework assignment. I mean, they do not
command or prescribe anything,
but instead they describe. They describe not what
could be or what might be, but what will
be. And in fact, what already is.
Blessed are.
The third possible translation is fortunate.
To be makarios, and therefore to be a saint, is to be fortunate.
In the words of Simeon, it is to be in possession of some
good, some good that many desire but
not all can obtain.
And so what is it then that the makarios possess?
What is it that makes them so fortunate?
And that leads to what Simeon says is the fourth and best translation,
which is the Spanish one.
In Spanish, makarios is always translated
bien aventurado or
bienaventuranza.
And so do you hear it?
To be makarios is to be on a
grand adventure.
It's to be someone fortunate enough, by the grace of God, to
be on some journey that all desire but
not all can obtain.
Which sounds exciting,
until we read all of the phrases on the other side of that
word are, until we read about all the types of people
Jesus identifies as the makarios.
It's shocking, and it would've been shocking to Jesus' original
listeners because, as Simeon says, in Jesus' time,
in the Greek world, the word makarios was reserved for
two types of people.
The first were the gods.
The gods were said to be the makarios, or to be the fortunate ones,
because the gods were immortal. And therefore the gods were
immune from all human sadness, including the
saddest thing of all, which is death.
And so then therefore, by extension, in the Greek world, the upper class or
the privileged could also be said to be the makarios, the fortunate ones,
because out of everyone living, they were those who most
closely approximated the gods, insulated as
they were from at least most forms of human
sadness.
And yet look at what Jesus does this morning. He goes up on a mountain.
He goes up on the place reserved for gods, and he calls to himself
a group of people who in no way resemble gods or resemble
the privileged, but instead gathers to him a group of men, the
disciples, who are in no way immune from human
sin or pain or misery. And
he stares them in the face and he says, "From now on,
you are the makarios."
You are the fortunate ones. You are the ones on
some secret adventure that all desire
but not all can obtain.
Poor in spirit,
sad
Hungry and thirsty,
persecuted, reviled, hated,
makarios.
And so what is the definition of a saint?
It is to be on a grand adventure,
but an adventure that is, in so many ways, a journey
down,
a grand adventure into deeper and deeper dependence.
Dependence on God, but also dependence on other
people, dependence on all of the other hungry and
thirsty and dependent people that Jesus gathers around
himself.
And that leads to the second point, which is the communion of the saints.
Because that's what Jesus is doing in the Beatitudes.
On the mountain, he is establishing a community.
And the Beatitudes then become his Magna Carta or his
constitution which outlines citizenship in
the people of God. He is saying, "From now on, poor
in spirit, meek, peacemakers,
these are the types of people you can expect to find
gathered around me."
And usually, we read the Beatitudes so
individually.
We think that God is asking each one of us to become all
nine of the people in the Beatitudes, but that is actually not
what is happening at all.
Each of the Beatitudes, instead, is naming the sorts of people we can
expect to be around Jesus, and therefore, it is
naming the sorts of gifts that each individual Christian
brings into the community, almost like the spiritual gifts
in Paul's letters, in which each of us brings one,
maybe two or three gifts to the table.
And so I bring my Beatitude of poverty of spirit, and you
bring your mercy, and you bring your tears, and they bring
their persecution or their peacemaking, and together, all
of us become the people of God.
And that is true both for saints who are living and
saints who are dead.
Because
if I am joined to Christ and united to
him by faith and baptism,
and a medieval peasant who lived in the year 1219 is
also united to Christ by faith and
baptism, then in some very mysterious way,
I am also united to that peasant.
And because we are both dependent on Christ, we are
also, in some very mysterious way, dependent on
one another.
And this brings up what is probably Anglican Episcopalians' biggest
question when it comes to the saints, and that is, should
I pray to them?
And the answer is this:
we should not pray to the saints, but we should
absolutely ask them to pray for us.
Because to pray to the saints would be to direct our worship or devotion
to them, and therefore it would be to give to them what
belongs only for God.
But should we ask saints to pray for us? I mean, yes.
Because as the theologian Jason Michelli has said,
our fellowship with the departed is not altogether different from our
fellowship with the living.
If we believe in the communion of saints, then asking the departed
saints for their prayers is no different than someone in this
congregation asking you to pray for them this week,
or you asking someone in this congregation to pray for
you.
Because both the living and the dead are all friends
in Jesus Christ, we can talk to and pray for one
another.
It is not that the saints are our way to Jesus Christ,
but rather, Christ is our way to them.
Which brings me to the story of one saint who Christ has brought into communion
with us, and that is a man named Ji
Tanyong.
Ji Tanyong was born in China in the year 1834, and
he grew up in a wealthy family, and he eventually became a doctor.
But in his 30s, he contracted a very serious
stomach sickness, and he treated himself with opioids,
which was a routine treatment at this time.
But Ji quickly became addicted to these opioids, and
he suffered from that addiction for the next 30 years.
And over those 30 years, in spite of his addiction, Ji started a
family. He became a father and a grandfather,
and he also developed a reputation in the community for
providing free medical care to the poor.
In spite of his addiction, or perhaps because of it, Ji never
abandoned his faith, but for the next 30 years, he went to
Mass not only every week, but every day, and he
also frequently went before the priest for confession.
But for 30 years, every time Ji went to Mass,
he was denied the body and blood of Christ,
and every time he went for confession, he was denied
absolution because his addiction was seen as, quote,
"unrepentant sin."
Then, in the year 1900, there was an uprising in northern China that
we know today as the Boxer Rebellion.
And as a part of that rebellion, 120 Christians were put to death,
including Ji Tanyong and his family.
And it is said that Ji asked his executioners to be
beheaded last, so that he could comfort all of his friends
and family as they went to their deaths.
So exactly 100 years later, in the year 2000,
Pope John Paul II canonized Ji Tanyong,
officially making him a saint and giving him the name
Saint Mark.
Blessed Saint Mark Ji Tanyong,
so needy and stuck and broken for
30 years,
and yet so makarios and
bienaventuranza,
longing desperately to see the face of God,
hungry and thirsty
for God,
reviled and persecuted on account of
God.
And so this morning, as we gather around the mountain at the feet of
Jesus and hear the Beatitudes, Saint Mark
is gathered with us.
And this morning, as we hear of this heavenly throne room
described in Revelation, where we will gather
before the Lamb and before the throne with all those
others who have passed through the great ordeal,
with all those others who have washed their robes white with
blood,
and with all those others who will no longer cry or be
hungry or thirsty,
Saint Mark Ji Tanyong will be with us.
Saint Mark does not bring me to Christ, but Christ has
brought him to me.
And so we say, "Blessed Saint Mark, pray
for me,
a sinner."
In the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
Amen.