Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Ruth 1:1-8, 16-17 "All Saints' Remembrances"

You are welcome to use parts of this sermon, but if you do, please attribute them properly!

         This weekend is a wonderful coming together of several diverse religious and spiritual events.  It is a confluence of not just the old, but of the really ancient as well.  It is a blending together of Christian and pre-Christian festivals and of Catholic and Protestant theological perspectives.
         First off, October 31st was the day in 1517 that Martin Luther formally posted his 95 gripes about, and theological arguments against, the Roman Catholic Church.  Not having Twitter back then, he nailed them with a certain flourish to the door of the Cathedral Church in Wittenberg, Germany. 
         Luther’s one-man protest sparked the Protestant Reformation that quickly spread throughout the world.  This event is important for us to remember because, had it not been for Brother Martin, we would not be worshipping here this morning in our small church with its big heart but rather would be attending mass at Our Lady of Perpetual Help in Windham.
         This weekend also marks the pre-Christian Celtic Festival of Samhain, which occurs halfway between the vernal or fall equinox and the winter solstice. Samhain in Gaelic means “summer’s end” and is a harvest festival.  It is the time when herds were brought down from the hills, when family members (and long dead ancestors) returned to the homestead for the winter months, when vegetation died back and killing frosts occurred.   As one blogger wrote, “Samhain is (like) the turning of the wheel. It feels almost like shutting off the lights for the evening or closing down the store for the night. It is time to go inward and focus on family and self.” 
         Not surprisingly, Samhain was traditionally associated with death and was a spiritually significant time when the veil between this world and the next, between the living and the dead, was thought to be at its thinnest.  For Outlander fans, this was the time of year when people like Claire time traveled through the standing stones to another world.  In the end, Samhain is a festival for honoring ancestors and those who have gone before us.
         As Christianity spread throughout Europe, the time of Samhain coincided with the Christian Church’s need to celebrate the lives of named saints who did not have their own designated feast day.  Known as All Saints’ Day, it was initially confined to the Diocese of Rome.  However, in the 9th century, Pope Gregory IV designated it an all-church day of holy obligation.   At some point, All-Souls Day developed as well, which was a day to recognize those non-designated Saints (that is, just ordinary folks) in one’s immediate family who had passed away.
         The more recent Protestant tradition has been to merge All-Souls and All-Saints Day into one.  After all, we believe that we – all of us – are both saints and sinners – and so we – all of us – ought to be honored for our life accomplishments. 
         This weekend then, is about new traditions arising from the old, about richer perspectives on life and death emerging.  One of those perspectives is the close bond we have with those we love – “Wherever you go, I shall go, wherever you live, so shall I live” – that continues beyond death. 
         Whether or not you think that the veil between the worlds is particularly thin this weekend, as Christians we believe that somewhere – somehow – “a great cloud of witnesses” loves us from beyond the grave, nudging and guiding us through our memories of them to be more loving, more like God intended us to be.  That is why on this first Sunday in November each year, we have All-Saints’ Remembrances, recalling those men and women in our families and in our church family who died in the past year.  “Wherever you go, I shall go, wherever you live, so shall I live.”
JAMES ENGLISH – James was a summer visitor from Winsor, Connecticut.  I know very little about this James English because there were actually two James English-es, both of whom were snowbirds and both of whom were summer residents of Raymond.  One James English passed away years ago and was married to Marjorie English, who annually came north from Virginia until two summers ago.  I recently wrote to her about our James English but have not yet received a reply. 
         I do know from talking to Marjorie a couple of years ago, however, that the James English we remember today was also married to a Marjorie.  So – right here in Raymond in the summer were two married couples of about the same age who were James and Marjorie English and who attended this church and who frequently played bridge together.  No wonder there has always been so much confusion!  I understand they got quite a kick out of the coincidence as well.
CHARLES GUERIN – Charles is Marie Guerin’s father.  Marie has been on each of our Maine Seacoast Mission trips.  Charles was 98 when he passed away.  He lived with a mental and physical vitality seldom seen in those so aged.  Trained professionally as an attorney, he devoted his career to the US Treasury, overseeing the tax code and tax implications of Medicare and working on tax-exempt status for certain religious groups (Thank you, Charles).  He was a lifelong student and loved gardening, politics, the news, ethics, cooking, genealogy, and languages.  His mind was always engaged in something.
         From what I could see, he also loved challenging and intellectually pushing his daughter, Marie.  I know he grilled her on why she was going to Maine Seacoast Mission that first year and what she expected to accomplish spiritually – and, in doing so, also challenged me. 
         Charles was a deep theological thinker, able to see the hand of God working often in mysterious ways.  He was a faithful and active Roman Catholic, always seeing the potential of his Church, even in the midst of all the pain and controversy it has experienced over the past decade. 
         I met Charles once when Marie was picking up pot roast suppers here and asked him what he thought of Pope Francis.  He took my hand and smiled broadly, indicating that, from his perspective, the College of Cardinals had done well in its election.  I suspect that knowing his church was in good hands made it easier for him to move on graciously and gracefully.
RAY NEAL – Ray was a generous and faithful summer member of our church, making financial contributions to upgrade our sound system here in the sanctuary and to purchase a portable communion set.  Ray also remembered this church in a trust he established before he died.  As his daughter Pam wrote, it would “probably suffice to say that (Ray) loved the Raymond church and (his) summers in Maine” where he spent summers for 40 years in a home on Crescent Lake.
         Ray was warm, soft-spoken, and gentle.  He served in the Navy for a number of years, retiring as a captain, and was also on the Governor’s staff in Rhode Island, his home until he and his wife retired to Florida.  Ray was very involved in our church and was able to offer the Church Council sage common sense advice on finances and other matters on numerous occasions. 
         Caryl Gilman remembers three of the many loves of Ray’s life:
1.             His wife Kathryn, with whom he had four children.  He also adopted Kathryn’s daughter from a previous marriage.  
2.            Fishing – anywhere, anytime – on Crescent Lake, Lake Champlain, and elsewhere.
3.            His camp in Raymond…even after Kathryn’s death he continued to spend summers here until 2-3 years ago.
DOROTHEA PUTSCHER – Dorothea “Dot” and her family were longtime summer residents. She was a high school physical education and health teacher in New Jersey and worked summers as a counselor at Camp Wenonah on Trickey Pond.  After she married, she was a fulltime mother of what eventually became a family of six children - three boys and three girls - maintaining high standards and expectations for all of them.
         In her later years, Dot blossomed as an artist and craftswoman.  She loved painting – whether it was a landscape on canvas, the boat dock, or the back of the cottage on Sebago that became her and Dick’s three-season vacation cottage.  I understand that she was very organized – maintaining a list of all things that had been done - and still needed to be done - on the cottage.
         Dorothy was devoted to her Presbyterian Church in Delaware and to our church here in Raymond.  Over the years, she faced a number of serious health challenges, including the surgical loss of one of her lungs.  Surely it was her deep faith and the loving relationships she maintained with everyone in her family that kept her optimistic and unwilling to give up until God called her home.
BETTY WILSON – Betty is Stacey Grindel’s grandmother.  She lived in Maine all her life – though when she and her husband Charles retired, she took great pleasure in traveling to visit with family.  She was an avid reader who also loved knitting slippers and baking bread.
         Betty was a Girl Scout leader and also was involved in Boy Scouts for over 50 years.  You could often find her working with scouts at Camp Hinds.  In fact, she made the first Camp Hinds flags.  In 1992, she was awarded the Silver Beaver Award, one of the highest awards in Scouting – and not often awarded to a woman.
         Betty also volunteered at the Cumberland Fairgrounds, Native American pow wows, and the Navy Relief Society.  She was a loving caring mother, grandmother, and great grandmother.  Stacey recalled her this way:  “My grandmother was so special and amazing. Her focus was her family, and she loved us all equally. In college, she used to send care packages to me with special notes, homemade goodies and a few dollars for spending money. It always included the saying 'between you, me and the gatepost'. It was a special treat to get one of her care packages that continued even after college.
         I loved her and still love her dearly. Growing up she was a rock. I learned to cook and enjoyed canning with her that I now am teaching my kids. I learned from her a love of service, a love for the outdoors, and the knowledge that family isn't always related by blood.
SANDY WINDE – Though Sandy has not been active in our church for 10 years now, he is still remembered fondly by many in our congregation. He volunteered with Cub and Boy Scouts for 15 years and was active in the community as a youth baseball and soccer coach and also volunteered as a middle and high school wrestling coach. Sandy was always ready to lend a helping hand in his conversational, down-to-earth way – and could be spotted most everywhere by the distinctive hat he always wore.
         Tom Wiley was a close friend of Sandy and remembers him this way:  “Sandy was a friend to all. 
 Whether you were young or old, big or small in stature or just a casual acquaintance he always found the good in everyone and everything.  Once you met Sandy you made a friend for life.  He would hunt to find the common bond with you and work towards a greater understanding and love for each other.    
         My personal memories of Sandy will always be those of a brother I never had.  We enjoyed numerous scout trips around this country including a trip to Gettysburg. Sandy was a huge civil war buff and truly enjoyed the sharing and learning about Joshua Chamberlain and the 20th Maine’s impact on the battlefields of Pennsylvania. “ 
         Sandy lived with a terminal illness for nearly three years, throughout it all approaching life as a blessing with optimism and a deep Christian faith.
MURIEL YEAGER – Most of us here know Muriel as “MumMum” – a spry, energetic, optimistic, Red Sox loving, vital, and faithful church member who passed away just shy of 101.  Muriel raked leaves and shoveled snow until she was 98 – and she was still trying to chase wild turkeys out of the back yard shortly before she died.  Muriel was always at worship, looking elegant, dressed to the nines. 
She and Rosemary and Ann were the Golden Girls and could often be found after church at Tim Horton’s or cruising the aisles of Walmart together.   My guess is that Muriel cut a wide swath in her younger days, as I have heard tell of her sliding gracefully down bannisters in New York hotels in her evening dress.
         Her daughter, Margo, asked family members to send a few thoughts for these All-Saints’ Remembrances.  Last week Margo gave me a page and half, single-spaced with tiny type filled with thoughts and memories of Muriel.  It was a joy to read, brought tears (good tears) to my eyes as I recalled this loving and friendly woman who lived so fully right up until she died. 
         Here are just a few of the things her family mentioned: ”What I valued most about Mom was how easy it was for her to make friends.  Lasting friends.  Some of her friends she had kept contact with for over 80 years.  She had such a large, kind heart.” 
         “I remember raking leaves with her and trying to keep up, and this was when she was 90.  She was a perfectionist.  You couldn’t quit until there wasn’t a single leaf remaining on the lawn.  Mom was so full of life and love.” 
         “What I remember most about Mom was her unselfish generosity, never looking for payback of any kind, just a warm and heartfelt thank you.  She would rather have given her savings away instead of enjoying the money herself.  I can look back and honestly say that I have never had the pleasure of meeting anyone in my life with such a giving heart as my Mom.” 
         “What I remember about Mom was her love for knitting and crocheting.  Every kid around was dressed to the tee.  She was always kind and giving – and played a mean card game too.” 
         “I don’t know anyone who has touched as many lives as MumMum did.  And missed?  Boy is she missed.  But I know she’s in a better place.  She’s with PopPop now.  Lately they have both been in my dreams.  I’ve never dreamed of my grandfather, but now that they are together, they are both visiting me in my dreams.  What a lucky lady I am!”
         When I was in college in New York, my fraternity buddies would offer to drive me home in the hope of getting a few of MumMum’s brownies.  She was known in those days as the brownie lady.  When I was in Viet Nam flying Marine Corps helicopters my buddies would flock around my cot when they heard that MumMum had sent me a goodie package.  MumMum had the special gift of letting people know she was thinking of them. She is truly the belle of the ball, and I know wherever she is everyone, is having a grand time.
         A blog post I came across this week read:  “’We have had our run. It is time to leave.’”  So said Andy Pettitte, pitcher for the New York Yankees (Sorry, Muriel!). 
         All of us will say that sooner or later.  If we have invested ourselves deeply in life and deeply in love we can greet the end of both career and life with joy and celebration.  It is not a joy and celebration that our time has come to an end, but a joy and celebration that while we had our time we dared to live fully, to love wastefully, and we found the courage to be all that we could be.”
         Surely that is the experience of those we have remembered today…..Wherever they go, may we go too.       




by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church U.C.C., Raymond, Maine

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