01 November 2009

Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 24
Revelation 21:1-6a
John 11:32-44

Heaven and earth.

Clean and unclean.

Time and the eternal opposing.

Near and away,

one from The Other,

like God from death and the grave.

Death,

to Mary,

to Martha,

to them in Judea forever,

the farthest removal from God,

the final removal from God,

the final removal

of God.

Lazarus and the dead, entombed,

and the tomb NOT

the province of God.

Unclean, everyone knows!

The shroud fouled and filthy,

all pussey and oozing,

untouchable . . . . .

and

anodoryoucouldcutwithachainsaw.

God and humanity on this one agreeing,

on this one in concord at least.

And anyway,

it’s just Lazarus.

Not married, you know – therefore,

not truly in the eyes

of the neighbor a man –

ever the boy,

how sad

and how clear,

not one in God’s favor.

“Yeah, the two of them were

never all that close,

ya know?”

And Mary and Martha, agreeing just this once:

had Jesus, Messiah, and Savior so dear,

been here and near,

not dawdling in all the wrong places,

our brother,

he would not have died.

“A wave of your hand hand, a puff of your breath,

and our still brother’s garments would still . . . . .

well, they’d at least still be clean.

Too late now.

Not God Almighty,

not the special Lord OUR God,

can unmess this mess.

Definitionally

not possibly we know:

God simply will not abide

things foul, things dead,

things that stinkely stinketh.

Cleanliness next to Godliness, all know.

Or at least the right sort of people know . . .”

Jesus now there

and Jesus weeps.

“What a hash they’ve made of it,”

he weeps.

“I and the Father, the One

I AM,

always and only

love

I AM,

but you have made

I AM

your monster.

Time to whirl your puny minds ‘round:

Lazarus, you stinker,

I AM

here!

Arriba, Muchacho, Hop to it!!!”

And “Oooooo,” and “Ahhhhhhhhh,”

goes the crowd. “Who knew?”

“Well, it’s been that way all along, you silly virgins.

The Light of

I AM,

it glows in the dark,

it shines in the tomb,

it’s the ember

amongst the cold ashes.

And this get down, too this set down:

I AM

not offended as you would suppose

at the stench of him dead for four days.

And the gray, sodden shroud –

it’s lifted and washed and unwound for

I AM,

Yahweh,

this way,

all along,

Glory Be.”

This, the Word of

I AM,

for this, the Feast of All Saints.

The Feast of All Saints. What’s it mean?

“You are one of them,” says

I AM.

“My promise eternal, elemental:

with water

and wind

and fire and oil,

with salt bearing witness: see –

the God that

I AM

promises

I AM

forever with you.

And you,

you’ll not ever rid your self

of

I AM.

You’ll not wash off the mark

of

I AM.

You’ll not badly act yourself away

from

I AM.

Nearer I God to thee . . . . .

than even your nose to your face –

and most especially

when all facing is gone.

God always near

I AM

God, unoffendable

I AM

by death un-put-offable,

by death unstoppable

I AM.”

“Right,” we say,

filled with the murk

of our selves’ own

Enlightenment,

it’s that that’s

I AM’s

chief offense, for we

KNOW

when we’re done, we’re done.

Dead is

dead!

Life forever in God?

It’s quaint, but it ain’t.

And what of All Saints?

“Wish fulfillment,” Spong-like we say.

Pat the child on the head,

but don’t dare you say

all the living and dead,

a party of Saints,

a communing of saints,

all chatting and dining and drinking,

Bah, humbug.

And here,

we thought Jesus was

a liberal.

“But a God’s got to do

what a God’s got to do.

So on a November day

darkness hovering,

I AM

the God undissuadable

I AM

the God undeterable

at grave’s side to comfort,

I AM,

all them that mourn

I AM,

at grave’s side

to offend

the hell out of the Enlightenment,

to turn tears today

into tomorrow’s wine of best wonder.

Here’s shock and awe,” says

I AM

without vengeance. “The distance between

I AM and you

and you and the dead

and you and the yet to be,

tiny, infintessimal

and to

I AM

but dust.

So wait and watch

this almost winter month:

you’ll see,

the light shines well in the dark

that you shall know

I AM

not absent in death,” says

I AM.

“For only the dead shall rise.

And all that separates

you from your dead

and you and the yet to live –

all that has been

and will be and are,

the distance between the saints –

mere breath.”

Jesus laughs.

“Oh, the surprises I have

for you my dears.Here,

have some bread and some wine.

Toast all the saints –

the ones near

to you in the pew –

and the unseen ones even nearer, for

I AM

and

THEY ARE

and, so yet,

YOU

SHALL

BE.”

Thus says the Lord I AM.

Amen.