Sermon

Nov. 6, 2005

 

Being in Attitudes

A Sermon Preached at St. Stephen’s

November 6, 2005, All Saints Day

By Karen Eberhardt

 

This is a story about the Beatitudes – or being in our attitudes.  As some of you know, I grew up a Southern Baptist.  Some of my earliest memories are those of being in church on Sunday nights, and spending time at my maternal grandmother and granddaddy’s church outside Apex, North Carolina when it was a little bitty town with a railroad crossing, a farming and feed store and a drug store on Main Street.  If I was lucky, my Granddaddy would hitch the mule to the open hay wagon and I would get to ride to the feed store where he   would buy something for his little farm and then I would listen while he and his farmer friends stood around “chawing” tobacco and talking for hours at a time.  And then if I was really lucky, we would go to the drug store up on the street corner where my Aunt Polly worked, and I’d get to sit on the little round stools at the soda fountain and eat ice cream.  Across the street was the fancy brick church in town, First Baptist, where my Auntie Anne went to church, but my grandparents and Aunt Polly, and my family when we were there, went to the little rural wooden church out in the country called Salem Baptist.  

I have so many wonderful and kind of funny memories of my time spent at this church. Everybody went to Sunday school and then everyone went to church.  The old women sat on the left side of the church fanning themselves with the paper fans from the funeral home, and the old men sat on the right side, often with their old coffee can spittoons sitting underneath the pews in front of them.  I loved going to church there, where I got to wear my fancy dress and my patent leather shoes, where I got to hear the Bible stories told as only Baptist preachers can tell them; I loved singing the music, what we ex-evangelicals now lovingly call the blood songs; and I loved to watch as people would get up out of their seats at the end of the service and go forward to the altar where they would kneel down with the preacher and ask Jesus to come into their hearts, and they would be saved.  

But most of all, I loved it when the evangelist would come to town.  There would be a big tent set up outside, and for a solid week, we would go to church every night and hear the good news preached for all to hear.  It was a time of celebration and fellowship, a time to spend with friends, and a time to cry openly and freely (without totally understanding what it was I was crying about) when people would go forward and turn their lives over to God.  There is no way to adequately tell about the emotions, the sense of expectation and hope, despair and longing, that would build all night as we waited for the traveling preacher to start to tell the story.  We always went to those tent meetings with an attitude of both high expectation and fear.

We would hear the story of Jesus, as he was baptized by his cousin John at the River Jordan, and we children would be so amazed when John said Jesus was the Son of God, that he was the Messiah, the one the people of Israel had waited to arrive for so many hundreds of years.   We’d listen in awe as we heard that Jesus went into the desert by himself where he didn’t eat for 40 days, (remember I grew up in the desert), and then we would listen in fear as the devil came to torment and tempt the starving Jesus with the ability to change stones to bread with which to sustain his life, then with the ability to be all powerful by saving himself in the process of an act of death, and then with the knowledge that he could rule the earth if only he would worship the devil.  As we know, (thank goodness) Jesus refuses all these trappings of a worldly life, and the devil disappears.  When Jesus returns from the desert and discovers that John has been arrested he leaves his home in Nazareth and moves to Galilee , and takes up John’s call for repentance.

While walking by the sea one day, Jesus calls to Peter and Andrew, then to James and John to follow him and help him call all the people to repent and turn their lives and their attitudes over to God.  As this little band of men travel all over the region, people come to hear this man named Jesus, the tent preacher and healer.  The more he preaches and heals, the more famous he becomes.  He has become an evangelist.  Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a Billy Graham crusade, but if you have you might have some idea of how Jesus might have felt when he saw the huge crowds who had come because they wanted and needed to be healed in so many ways.  They were hungry and poor, they were sick and in mourning, they were afraid – afraid of their government and their religious leaders who were supposed to be the select few but were corrupt in their power and their faith.  They needed someone to tell them that they were cherished and loved, that they were on the right path, and that there is hope, that there is always hope.  

So what was Jesus response to these huge crowds of people who were so needy and in so much pain?  He left them, and went off into the mountains to be by himself, and knowing him, most likely to pray.  The people must have been disappointed and confused, but they probably also stayed around for a long time waiting for him to return because he was the famous evangelist and they knew this man was perhaps the most important person they would ever see or hear in their life.  The disciples however, followed Jesus, and when he sat down he told them, the one’s who were already with him and who were part of his ministry and work, the good news – the news of a new way.  This news wasn’t about repentance, it wasn’t about power, and it wasn’t about what they had to change about themselves to find God in their everyday lives.  

Now, I am sure that along about now, you must be asking yourselves what this story has to do with All Saint’s Day.  Believe me, I struggled with that very same question even as I sat down to write this story.  But as I was writing, I realized that it is a story for us, for all the saints, (because you know we are all saints) for the one’s who come to the tent meetings and wait with baited breath to hear the story again and again, and then watch in tears of joy and sorrow and unbelievable hope as those who don’t know the story begin to understand.  This is our good news, that no matter what attitude we are in today, we can never be beyond the grace-filled love of God, the caring, just, concerned, protective, comforting, strong, benevolent, and manifold love of God.  Today, as we weep for and remember all those who have gone before us, we must also rejoice because Jesus tells us that no matter where we are, what we are doing, what we are thinking, and how we are feeling we are always a part of each other and all of us are always blessed because we are all always and forever the beloved children of God.  

Eventually, Jesus goes on to tell us what is expected of us as saints, those who already know they are part of God and God’s all-encompassing family, but he wants us first and foremost to know that we are all saints, simply because we are all part of God.  And as saints, no matter what we face every day, yes every hour, and even every second of our lives, no matter what attitude we have met the day with, or faced each other with, we are assured that our reward is great, because that reward is having the deep, internal and abiding knowledge and understanding that we will always have everything we need, and yes dare I say it, even want, when we know beyond a doubt that we are greatly and marvelously loved in every fiber of our being just as we are, and that we continue to be  blessed and flourish throughout eternity.  And at the risk of being a little too evangelical or too corny here, when you ask how I know this, I tell you I know it because our Creator declared it, Jesus lived it, the Spirit fills my life and my heart and my soul with it, and from one of the best loved evangelical songs ever, because the Bible tells me so.  

 

AMEN