John 11:32-44
When Mary came to Jesus and saw him she said to him, “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping and the other Jews with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said to them, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Come and see.” Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” But some of them said, “Could not the one who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”
Then Jesus came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone lying against it. Jesus said to them, “Take away the stone.” But Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone.
And Jesus looked upward and said, “Father, I thank you for having heard me. I know that you always hear me, but I’ve said this for the sake of those standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.” When he had said this, he cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”
A few years ago, I preached one of my favorite sermons on All Saints Sunday. It was for my friend, Peggy. Peggy had died over the summer, some of you might remember, and though she was a dear friend of our family’s, we didn’t find out about her death until a few weeks after the fact, when one of the sermons I mailed her every Monday, was “Returned to Sender.” Peggy lived alone. Her mother and sister had both died already. She had given a child up for adoption years before. And so on and so on. The short of the long is she didn’t want a funeral for lots of reasons. So on that All Saints Sunday after learning of Peggy’s death, I preached a funeral sermon for a funeral that never was.
Many of you know Cross of Grace added a new saint to our list just two weeks ago. Don Campbell died alone in his home on October 20th. Like Peggy, Don was without parents or children to celebrate his life on this side of heaven. His lovely wife of 58 years, Charlotte, died about 5 years ago. Like Peggy, Don was very clear about not wanting a funeral service of any kind. I’m not sure about all of his reasons, but I wasn’t surprised by that news. Don was as frugal as he was humble and unassuming. So I’m guessing he just didn’t want to spend the money or receive the attention a typical funeral service requires or assumes.
And I don’t mean to make a habit of this – preaching funeral sermons for or about those who don’t want funeral services, I mean – but since we were all going to gather anyway, and since I would have had to preach something this morning, I don’t think Don would mind. And, more importantly, I think there’s something to learn about “all the saints” thanks to the life and likes of Don Campbell, on this All Saints Sunday.
You might not know it – and I wouldn’t have guessed it – but Don served in the US Army during the Korean War as a staff sergeant in Psychological Warfare. How cool is that?
One of his greatest joys in recent years was the trip he took as part of one of those Honor Flights, to Washington D.C., to visit the memorials there for military veterans.
Don was a CPA who served the state of Indiana, private clients, larger firms and hospitals. And he used all of that wisdom, experience, and expertise, to volunteer for a variety of the Lutheran churches he and Charlotte were a part of over the years, too.
Don worshiped with us every week at Cross of Grace. He sat in the back – right about “there,” most of the time. And, even though he was 90 years old, he gladly learned to join us for worship, online, via Zoom and YouTube, without complaint when the COVID-19 pandemic demanded we keep our distance.
In addition to learning that new technology, Don wasn’t afraid to make new friends, either. Not only did he follow many of his pals from Greenfield to this new congregation at Cross of Grace several years ago, but he was charmed by the Blachly family and he became buddies with Linda Duff, too, after joining our ranks. Joining new churches and making new friends isn’t nothing when you’re 90 years old, I’m guessing.
And, of course, there was Charlotte. I visited her often in the nursing home over in Greenfield before she died. She was in the Alzheimer’s unit there. And I can’t think of a time when I showed up, unannounced, that I didn’t see Don already there, too. Sitting with her. Reading the paper. Helping her eat. Or just asleep in a chair. He was a steadfast, patient, loving presence for her, even though she didn’t remember who he was or why he was there a lot of the time.
So, cheers to Don Campbell, our most recently minted “saint” on this All Saints Sunday.
We talked about “saints” and “sinners” last Sunday in our Faith Formation class, with the Junior High kids… about that very Lutheran/Reformation notion that we are – each of us – at the same time on any given day, both “saint” and “sinner.” (“Simul Justus et Peccator,” for those who remember the Latin or who had stricter Lutheran Confirmation teachers than me.) It means we’re both broken and redeemed. Both sinful and forgiven. Both lost and found. Both dead to our sin and promised new life again, in spite of it.
And as part of that discussion with the kids, I rattled off the names of some saints – the ones who’ve garnered some notoriety over the years, who have festival days named and claimed for them in the life of the Church, and whatnot – people like St. Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa – or St. Joseph who some believe is great for real estate sales.
But the thing about Luther’s understanding about “saints” and “sinners” is the holy reminder that we all are … each of us is … a saint in the eyes and by the grace of God. And we are “saints” in the eyes of God, precisely because we were created in love and created for love and created by the love of our Creator.
Don Campbell was and is a saint, not because he served our country, or because he volunteered in the Church, or because he loved his wife well. Don was – and is – a saint because the love and grace and mercy of God created him as such and declared him to be so, in baptism. And Don lived a saintly life in response to the truth and promise of that Good News.
Likewise, we are, each of us, “saints,” not because we gathered for worship this morning, or because we did a good deed yesterday, or because we voted this way or that, gave this much money to so many churches or charities, or whatever. We are – and will be – saints, you and I, in the eyes of God because God wants it to be so. And we are called to live our lives in righteous, faithful, saintly ways on this side of the grave, until we realize the fullness of God’s promised grace on the other side of heaven – whatever and wherever and however that comes to pass, I don’t pretend to know the details of that.
When I think about Don Campbell, and my friend Peggy, and every one of those “saints” whose names we spoke just moments ago… (take a minute to be mindful, again, of the saints who have blessed your own life and times) …those faces as you remember them… those lives for which we are grateful.
And give thanks for their memory, for the blessings they shared with this world, for the source of the love they were and are, and for the way that love surrounds us, still, and calls us to live with joy and hope, with purpose and peace, in their honor, for their sake, and in the name of Jesus, who does for us what he did for Martha and the crowd outside of Lazarus’ tomb: he calls us to believe in this kind of surprising, unmitigated, amazing grace. And he promises that we will see the glory of God – on this side of heaven and the next – when we do.
Amen
