Rector's Sermon
7 Novmber 2010

First Reading	Psalm	Epistle	Gospel
Daniel 7:1–3, 15–18	Psalm 149	Ephesians 1:11–23	Luke 6:20–31

       Last week on Halloween night we had about 66 youngsters come to our door. I freely admit I enjoyed seeing their costumes and giving out the candy. What struck me along with their politeness was the wide variety of costumes they wore. There were several Spidermans, princesses and batmans, but never the same size, and all quite distinctive. With their beads, makeup, false teeth, plastic ears, hats, and masks, the trick or treaters were all individuals, even as they walked up the driveway and knocked on our front door in groups of three to six.

       That fits what the celebration of All Saints is all about. Today we do not remember those from afar who are celebrities and are high up on platforms and stages distant from us. Rather we remember ordinary, everyday individuals who are all varied and clothed, as it were, in many different fabrics. They are people in our past who have been close to us, who have helped us on our lives' journey to see God’s light, to encourage us when we have stumbled, and often who have believed in us more than we believed in ourselves at the time. The saints in our lives could be a babysitter, a relative, a teacher, a choir director or a neighbor. They are not necessarily famous, super intelligent, powerful or wealthy. Yet they have all helped us realize some very important things and gain some very significant maturity and knowledge.

       I’m still hopeful that I will soon be asked to design stained glass windows.  My designs are at best pretty unique and I certainly deserve a commission. What if I were to design a large stained glass window for All Saints. It would have to convey both our individuality and be connected, forming a beautiful whole. That’s when I thought of a large quilt. Now I wasn’t allowed to take the quilt off our bed, but here is a quilted table runner that illustrates the idea. A quilt is composed of hundreds of pieces of cloth, in contrasting patterns and colors.  A good quilter would never think of going out to a fabric store and buying yards of the most expensive and finest material. Nor is a quilt made exclusively of evening dresses and silk scarves.  The cloth mostly reflects the work and use of everyday life. It may be pieces from an old curtain, or an apron, a tablecloth, an old pair of pants or a simple dress. Part of the skill of the quilter and lasting charm of the quilt itself is taking all these pieces of cloth, and arranging them in a pleasing and coherent pattern. Without the quilter’s artistry these pieces are just a pile of rags. The quilter sees the beauty and a larger whole in these pieces, even if by themselves they appear to be nothing.  Then, after arranging them all, the quilter must stitch them together. If a quilt requires hundreds of pieces of cloth, it also requires thousands of stitches to connect all the pieces. That takes a lot of time and patience, just as keeping us connected together does. Yet in the end, you have a gorgeous and useful quilt that will keep you warm on a cold winter’s night for decades to come and to be lovingly passed on to future generations.

       On All Saints we especially give thanks and offer appreciation for the many, many people both living among us now and those who have died who have shared so many different gifts. Together we form that wonderful community called the communion of saints, a communion whose larger pattern shows how people are to live together. Indeed to stay together and even perceive that the work we do in staying connected helps to complete the pattern of God’s vision, takes persistent and often tedious effort. But as a quilter will tell you, when a quilt is finished and spread upon the bed for the first time it’s a dramatic testimony that it has all been worth it.

       Jesus never knew about quilts, but he always reminded us about the various gifts that we have to give and receive from each other, gifts large and small, some of remarkable virtue and many of mundane everyday actions, that together make up the real fabric of God’s intended pattern for humanity. Jesus warns us that when we are so satisfied with ourselves we are unable to appreciate many of the gifts of others. If, for example, the only pieces I wanted to use in a quilt were from a pair of my old dungerees, the quilt would not only be too small, the pattern would be boring and not much to look at. When we are too full of our own desires and never hungry or thirsty, we won’t take the time and effort to work at caring and honest relationships among others and us. If we are so concerned about immediate popularity and easy success, we will not have the persistence and motivation to see that in what the world sees as a pile of rags, really has potential to become a work of art for the ages. So there you have it. The symbol of All Saints is a large well-constructed quilt and you and I are called as one of the saints, to get working on it.

       And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.