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Collect: Almighty God, you have knit together your elect in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of your Son Christ our Lord: Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints in all virtuous and godly living, that we may come to those ineffable joys that you have prepared for those who truly love you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.
Give ear O heavens, and I will speak; let the earth hear the words of my mouth,
for I will proclaim the Name of the Lord, and ascribe greatness to our God.
I’ve been thinking about David’s sermon from last week. We had the parable of the tax collector and the Pharisee, and rather than point the fickle finger of fate at the Pharisee and say, “You know where he’s going!” David suggested we stand in the shoes of both the publican and the Pharisee and ask ourselves the question: Where am I on this continuum?
In what ways am I like the Pharisee? Even when we thank God we’re not a hypocrite like THAT, we discover that’s precisely what we are!
When we look at the tax collector, the collaborator, the traitor, with eyes downcast, not daring to look up towards the altar, towards heaven, he beat his breast and cried, “Woe is me, a sinner.” David asked, in what ways are we like that? Do you think it was an honest prayer, or do you wonder if he wasn’t feigning humility?
Have you ever done that? Feigned humility?
I do. I make every effort to let others go first at coffee hour, because clergy are supposed to bring up the rear. That’s where we are in the procession. Have you ever noticed that? We bring up the rear, to embody our humility. So when the bishop comes to visit, the bishop takes that last place in the procession, and I find myself just a little miffed. “What are they doing in my spot?”
But that’s the way we are. Pride, humility, all mixed up. Devils one moment, saints the next.
And I say this, not to shame us, but to point out the reality of our lives.
I like how David helped us take a look at the scriptures with new eyes, fresh eyes; listening with new ears, fresh ears.
Because so often we hear and see these same stories day in and day out, week in and week out, year in and year out that our eyes tend to glaze over and our ears plug up.
That’s dangerous, because then we’re tempted to think we know it all, we’ve heard it all, we’ve seen it all. And we haven’t.
As Jesus says elsewhere (Mark 4:12),
“I speak in parables (in order that) folks may look but not perceive, and may indeed hear but not understand; lest they turn and be forgiven.”
It’s not that Jesus didn’t want folks to change, but to shake them out of their complacency.
“We know what the Law says,” they said. Torah. The Law. Love God. Honor the Sabbath. Don’t murder, don’t steal, … blah blah blah, yada, yada, yada.”
The danger is complacency. If you know it all, you can’t be taught. You can’t learn. As the Buddha might have said, “You cannot pour fresh hot tea into a cup until you have first poured out the swill that’s in that cup.”
If he didn’t say it, he should have!
So, following David’s lead, I want to take a quick glance at the Gospel for today, because it would be very easy to dismiss it as just a bunch of hooey or wishful thinking.
I mean,
Blessed are you who are poor? Yeah, right.
Blessed are you who are hungry? In your dreams!
Blessed are you who weep? Hey; Toronto lost. Who says there’s no crying in baseball? Blessed are you who weep? Says who!?
Jesus says these outrageous things, but they’re only outrageous if we’re not paying attention; if we’re not listening; if we’re not looking.
Blessed are you who are poor?
Why?
Because the kingdom of God is yours!
Don’t think of the kingdom of God as a possession, the way we might think of a car, or house, or cellphone.
The kingdom of God is the world in which we live and move and have our being. When we are unencumbered by our stuff, we are free to actually look around and see what God is doing and, more than that, see where God is leading us.
We are in that great unsettled time of transition between the priest who was and the one who is to come. In some ways we are like the disciples of John the Baptist who secretly come to Jesus and ask him, “Are you the one, or shall we look for another.”
John is in prison, and one of the jobs for the Messiah is to proclaim release to the captives. They’re talking in code: “Are you the one who will set John free, or will someone else do it?”
Remember how Jesus answers? He says, “Go tell John what you have seen and heard. The blind see, the lame walk, those with disease are made clean, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news delivered to them … blessed are those who take no offense at me.”
There’s that word again, “the poor.” And did you notice what’s missing in that list of things Jesus was doing? “No offense,” says Jesus, “but releasing prisoners isn’t on the list.”
It’s not that Jesus doesn’t care, but sometimes there’s just nothing we can do. I can’t do everything, but there are things I can do, and that’s where God has called me to go, and what God has called me to do.
Blessed are the poor, for the kingdom of heaven truly is theirs, truly is ours.
Jesus also lists some woes, and I want to invite you to hear them differently.
I have to confess that whenever I have gone over the list of woes, I have done so with sadistic delight:
Woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation!
Woe to you who are full, for you will know hunger!
Woe to you who laugh now, for you will weep and wail and gnash your teeth!
Woe to you when folk speak well of you, for that’s what your ancestors did to the false prophets (and you can see where it got them)!
I mean, when I say it that way, it sounds more like Snidely Whiplash than Jesus Christ, doesn’t it?
But there is another way to hear the woes; there’s another way to speak them.
When Jesus approached Jerusalem, remember how sorrowful he became?
Luke 19:41 And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, 42 saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. 43 For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side 44 and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.”
Jesus wept for the city. In another place he says he wishes he could gather up the people like a hen gathers her chicks. That’s not an angry heart. That’s a loving heart, and I think that’s the heart of Jesus as he lists the woes.
It’s not the finger shaking, “Oh you scalliwags! I’m going to get you, and Toto, too!”
No, it’s, “Oh I wish you could see how much good you could do if you opened your hearts. Oh how I wish you could see how much good you could do if you would open your pantries. Oh how I wish you could help others find the things that bring you joy, or peace, or comfort. But you would not. You prefer to clench your fist than open your hand, your heart – how sad!”
Like the characters in The Great Gatsby, the rich eat, drink, and make merry, and they don’t care what kind of mess they make of things or of lives, or what trail of destruction they leave behind, because they just want to have fun – and they have people – underlings – to clean up the mess.
Jesus weeps for them. They don’t see it. But the kingdom is all around them, too, if they would just take the time to look.
“And I want you to do that, too,” says Jesus. “The kingdom of God is here. It’s all around you. And you all know what to do, don’t you? If someone’s hungry, you feed them. If they’re thirsty, you give them to drink. If they’re cold, you give them a coat. If they’re lonely, you visit them. If they’re in prison, don’t break them out, but you make a home for them when they’re released.”
And here’s the kicker. Jesus says, “You’ve got this. We’ve got this.”
Jesus knows it. As we heard in Ephesians (1:11-23): we are the treasure God has inherited; As we read in the Psalm (149:7): God takes delight in [God]’s people! God’s not a finger-shaker. God’s a lover. God doesn’t give scorpions, but eggs. God doesn’t spank, but gives hugs!
Today we’re celebrating All Saints. We’re remembering all of the people who have touched our lives. I love the Ofrendas back there. I love the tradition of setting up an altar where folks can bring their offerings (that’s what “ofrendas” means), incorporating the four elements of life: Earth, Wind, Fire, Water.
You know, as Anglicans, we’re part of a tradition that sees the darkness, that hunts & burns witches, that is scared of ghosts and goblins and things that go bump in the night.
Our brothers and sisters from Mexico and the Latina/Latino world seem to have a much healthier appreciation for what we SAY we believe, that for us, life is not ended, but changed. I love the light of the candles, the vibrance of the marigolds, how the ofrendas include the three stages of heaven, earth, and the underworld, and how all are connected; I love how the elements are woven, not only there, but all around us.
I hope and pray that you and I will take some time during this service and throughout the day to not just listen to the names of our saints as they are offered to God during the Eucharist, but to see the faces of those saints as we hear their names.
They were, and are, a blessing to God. They were, and are, a blessing to us. And Jesus says, through their witness, we can be a blessing to God and to the world as well. Why?
Because the kingdom of God is ours, and we are the Ofrendas God is presenting to the world. Demos gracias a Dios (Thanks be to God)!
Luke 6:20-31
Jesus looked up at his disciples and said:
“Blessed are you who are poor,
for yours is the kingdom of God.
“Blessed are you who are hungry now,
for you will be filled.
“Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.
“Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets."
"But woe to you who are rich,
for you have received your consolation.
"Woe to you who are full now,
for you will be hungry.
"Woe to you who are laughing now,
for you will mourn and weep.
"Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.
"But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. Do to others as you would have them do to you.
Sermon delivered by the Rev. Keith F. Axberg to St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Mount Vernon, WA on All Saints Sunday, November 2, 2025
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