A Glorious Ragbag

From Wellington Cathedral of St Paul

A Glorious Ragbag: 31st October 2010: am: The Very Revd Frank Nelson

• Psalm 149
• Daniel 7: 1 – 3, 15 - 18
• Ephesians 1: 11 - 23
• Luke 6: 20 - 31

What’s Halloween all about, I asked? The three senior choristers sitting in my office at the entrance to the Cathedral looked a bit puzzled. Clearly they did not expect the Dean to be talking about Halloween in the course of their regular Christian training programme. It’s something to do with ghosts isn’t it, ventured one. Dead people come alive. It’s evil. I suppressed annoyance as I remembered the rubbish written in that morning’s paper about Halloween, and wondered again at the way good Christian festivals have been dumbed down and twisted so that people have no idea what they are about. Then came the “Aha” moment. Is it something to do with the Lord’s Prayer? You know, “Hallowed be thy name.” We broke the word into its two parts of Hallow and Even. Yes, the eve before Hallows day. And hallow? Holy, saintly, saints.

I explained how, in the first few centuries of Christianity, the Church had been persecuted. I am sure we have talked before about St Stephen, the first martyr, but the choristers had no memory of him, nor any idea of what the word martyr means. I explained about Stephen dying for his faith as recorded in the Book of Acts, and that our patron saint, St Paul, had been present and possibly an instigator of his death. Local churches honoured their martyrs by remembering them on their death day. Later other people who had lived exemplary Christian lives, sometimes involving suffering, were also remembered. At some stage the point was reached when there were so many that a single day was set aside to remember all the saints.

Even that is simplistic as St Paul, once he had been converted and become the great evangelist and apostle to the Gentiles, addressed his letters to “The Saints” – meaning all those who believed in Jesus Christ as Lord. In one sense then all Christians are saints. We know that during the 4th century there was a day set aside to honour all the martyrs. In May 610 AD Pope Boniface IV consecrated the old Roman Pantheon to St Mary and All the Martyrs, in time-honoured fashion baptizing a pagan festival, taking over the date and the place. A century later another pope, Gregory III dedicated a Chapel in Rome to all the saints. This seems to have been the occasion when the date moved to 1st November. Several centuries were to pass before the 2nd November came to be called All Souls’ Day – a time to remember, not just the famous, but every person who had followed Jesus Christ, and no longer lived on this earth. So for over a thousand years people have kept the twin festivals of All Saints and All Souls on 1st and 2nd November respectively.

Exactly two weeks ago some 8000 Australian Roman Catholics gathered in Rome to hear the Pope pronounce that Melbourne-born Mary McKillop was now recognized as a saint in the Catholic Church, and would be known as St Mary of the Cross. Among the crowd in Rome was our close neighbour Archbishop John Dew.

Mary McKillop’s canonization, the rather clumsy word used when a person becomes a saint in a formal sense, raises some interesting questions for us as Anglican Catholic Christians. The Roman Catholic Church has a long and complicated pathway to sainthood. Anglicans are a little more straightforward. At the General Synod two years ago it was agreed that a few more people would be added to the list of those we commemorate as people who “serve God by holy living, industrious preaching, and religious dying” (quoting Jeremy Taylor 17th C). Among them were Mother Teresa and Thomas Merton. Interestingly, both were Roman Catholics.

When Christine and I were in London in June we were able to visit a chapel not normally open to the public, in the depths of the Tower of London. There we prayed briefly at the Shrine of another Roman Catholic Christian, Sir Thomas Moore.

This weekend we have probably all seen people dressed as ghosts and ghouls, and some may have been subjected to the iniquitous practice of ‘trick or treating’. It seems that Pope Boniface’s attempt to baptize a pagan festival has come full circle, and that for many, All Saints, in the shape of the modern day Halloween, has reverted to a pagan festival, with little Christian understanding or meaning. Which is a great shame!

Last Thursday we kept the feast day of Saints Simon and Jude. Thomas Harding’s novel, “Jude the Obscure” is named after this apostle. We know precious little about either Simon or Jude, except that their names are mentioned among the Twelve, and there is a tradition that they were martyred in Persia. Perhaps that is how it should be with the saints. Like Simon and Jude most saints are known only to God and their immediate circle – some of whom probably would not use the word saint of them. I chuckled when I first saw that quotation from Geoffrey Paul on the front page of the Today sheet: “the glorious ragbag of saints and fatheads that make up the One, Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church.” Not very flattering, but very down to earth. And most saints are that – down to earth.

Day by day in the Cathedral cycle of prayer we pray for “the ragbag of saints and fatheads” that make up this part of the One, Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church. Among people I give thanks for in this Cathedral are those who give money to pay for the glorious flower arrangements, often in memory of those they consider saints. There is a steady stream of people coming through the Cathedral each week, not as visitors, but to do some or other task – from arranging those flowers to watering them; picking up groceries to take to the City Mission or folding envelopes to send out the Cathedral News; practicing the glorious music we too easily become used to and take for granted or doing the odd hour of weeding in the gardens; using precious days off to shop and cook for all the saints to enjoy lunch later today. Add those whose vision and hard work resulted not only in the glorious Spring Ball but in $10,000.00 being raised for two educational charities, and the saints are seen to be quite active and very much alive around here.

Nor are they only active on church property and in church buildings. I think of those people who give generously and sacrificially of their time, expertise, often money, for the good of the community – parents standing on the sidelines to cheer eight year olds playing netball when a southerly is blowing; service club members gathering up old computers for re-cycling; the ever-willing people who take others shopping or to keep doctor’s appointments; people like my sister and brother-in-law who have devoted the past twenty-five years to caring for their son who is severely disabled following a traumatic birth. Sainthood cannot be bought on the spot – but is, rather, the result of long and sustained commitment to the good of others – in every sense, fulfilling the second great command, to love one’s neighbour as oneself.

Today then, we celebrate the Feast of All Saints. A ragbag we may be – but what a glorious one.

Eternal God, you have always taken men and women of every nation, age and colour and made them saints; like them, transformed, like them, baptized in Jesus’ name, take us to share your glory.