A moment of unraveling
On Saturday morning, a notification for the New York Times popped up on my screen. I read the quote, “Despite ghosts and zombies, Halloween is a holiday for the living.” As the author describes her Brooklyn block, it could have easily been a description of 3rd and 4th Street here in Hamilton.
“Tombstones are planted in the flower beds. A witch appears to have flown into a tree and is suspended there, broom sticking out from the trunk. An undead crone, motion sensitive, accosts passers-by from the hedge.”
In this article, Melissa Kirsch touches on the celebration of getting together in real-time, the wonderful old-fashioned novelty of ringing a doorbell or knocking on a door, and the delight we feel as it is answered, even if by a scary face.
In a time where many of our personal interactions are through one form of technology or another, the community comes together in person, and face-to-face connections are made.
Joyful though perhaps creepy, these delightful exchanges bring our community together.
Here, at St. Paul’s, we decorate,
dress up in fun costumes,
hand out candy,
serve warm food and drinks,
and welcome everyone into the celebration.
Halloween is indeed a holiday for the living.
While Halloween is widely celebrated, the two days following Oct. 31st are more significant for many. In a practice dating back centuries, many churches observe these two days as a time when the living commemorate the dead. Nov. 1st is All Saints Day, a feast day during whi the lives of the many saints for whom there is no specific feast day during the year. The following day, Nov. 2nd, All Soul’s Day is a day of prayer for and in remembrance of the “faithfully departed”: family, friends, and strangers who no longer live among us.
For me, this season is a time when joy and sorrow are intricately woven together, and I move haphazardly from one to the next and back again. The church’s liturgical practices help me to slow down, pull at a few of the threads of my ancestry, and wonder about life, death, and the meaning of it all.
I remember aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins, siblings, and parents who have impacted my life in both positive and negative ways.
Their passing leaves me with many unanswered questions. And the more I explore the questions, the more my understanding seems to unravel.
I realize sometimes, we need to be willing to go into the desert of grief, look around, take in the sights, experience our emotions, ask difficult and awkward questions, and gain new understanding.
I believe
We must go there, but we must not stay there.
The unanswered questions can confuse and consume us.
In the 22nd chapter of Matthew, we are deep in parables, and the deeper we get into parables, the more questions arise.
Why does the fig tree wither?
By what authority are you doing these things?
Is it lawful to pay the emperor or not?
Who does the widow of seven brothers belong to in heaven?
What commandment is the greatest?
And Jesus’ questions
Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it human origin?
In the parable of the two sons, he asks which of the two did the will of the father?
When the vineyard owner comes, what will he do to the tenants?
Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites?
What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?
It is as if the Sadducees and the Pharisees are pulling at threads, hoping to unravel the truth. And Jesus is trying to take the threads of understanding and weave them into a larger tapestry. Yet, they could not accept and understand what was right in front of them.
In today’s gospel, a lawyer, who in biblical times refers to one who is well-versed in the Old Testament, wants clarification on the most important of the commandments.
He asks a most straightforward question, which is answered with equal clarity. All the twists and turns of the parables bring us to two very clear commands. Love God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.
Its simplicity only confirms the hardheadedness of the Pharisees and Sadducees when Jesus asks What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he? They are confounded and ask no more questions for fear of embarrassment. They only want answers that stay within their understanding.
When we are confused, we must remember understanding takes time and effort, pulling at the threads, letting things unravel a bit, and trusting Jesus to take those threads and weave them into his story.
This can be difficult and scary, yet we must go there.
In the Psalm this morning, please notice our verses jumped from 6 to 13. The omitted verses leave out an intense moment of struggle with God.
7 For we are consumed by your anger;
by your wrath, we are overwhelmed.
8 You have set our iniquities before you,
our secret sins in the light of your countenance.
9 For all our days pass away under your wrath;
our years come to an end like a sigh.
10 The days of our life are seventy years
or perhaps eighty, if we are strong;
even then, their span is only toil and trouble;
they are soon gone, and we fly away.
11 Who considers the power of your anger?
Your wrath is as great
as the fear that is due you.
12 So teach us to count our days
that we may gain a wise heart.
In this prayer of Moses, we hear deep emotions; he is consumed and overwhelmed, recognizing he is fallible and frail. You can hear the depth of his pain as he pleads with God to have compassion. It is a tightly woven understanding of the difficulties of living in the face of death and the joy of participating in life. Amid his fears and understanding of his weaknesses and frailty, Moses recognizes that wisdom comes not from denying death but from acknowledging it and then wholeheartedly embracing the steadfast love that will bring gladness in the morning.
Moses died at 120 years old. The Israelites mourned him for thirty days. Then, the period of mourning ends, and in the verses that follow, his life is celebrated, and his legacy carries on.
In an article by Iris Waichler, seven stages of grief are described in detail.
Shock and denial
Pain and guilt
Anger and bargaining
Depression
The upward turn
Reconstruction and working through
Acceptance and hope
In my personal experience, 30 days isn’t enough time to touch the surface of my grief. And quite honestly, three years after my sister’s passing, I am still filled with questions that overwhelm and threaten to consume me.
Yet I know
God is the God of the living because He is also the God who conquered death. Jesus, in his life, death, and resurrection, proves victory over the grave. The resurrection of Jesus promises us that as we move through life and death, we remain alive in the eternal story.
We, too, must prove victory over the grave by continuing to celebrate life by coming together in worship and community, loving God and loving neighbor even when it doesn’t fit our current understanding.
The Psalm reminds us it is okay to go there to pull the thread to examine the fabric,
and from this exploration, we recognize our frailty
and gain wisdom of the Kingdom of God.
In answer to the question of what will happen to the widow who married seven brothers at the resurrection, Jesus answers. “And as for the resurrection of the dead, have you not read what was said to you by God. I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob? He is God, not of the dead but the living.”
I love the paradox of scary Halloween and joyful children,
the celebration of all saints and all souls as we remember our grief and loss, and the beauty of lives lived.
And the even bigger mystery, that God, the Messiah, and the kingdom are both known and unknown.
We must continually go into the unknown, ask questions, allow our understanding to unravel, and, in faith, trust that new understanding will come in surprising ways as Jesus weaves the threads of our stories into his.
May the graciousness of the Lord our God be upon us, prosper the work of our hands; prosper our handiwork. So that in the days to come, when our time on earth has passed, our life will be celebrated, and we, too, can leave a legacy of love for those who will follow. Amen