Window in All Saints Church, Beirut, Lebanon
Given that many churches in the Diocese in Europe, including the one with which I (Clare Amos) am most closely linked, will be marking All Saints and All Souls Day this coming weekend I felt it made sense to have a primary focus this week on the readings selected for All Saints Day. (Revelation 7.9–17; 1 John 3.1–3; Matthew 5.1–12)
As it happens, though, the readings for the Fourth Sunday before Advent – the alternative liturgical possibly suggested by the Common Worship calendar – which are Micah 3.5–12; 1 Thessalonians 2.9–13; Matthew 24.1–14 enter into an intriguing dialogue with the themes and scripture readings for All Saints Day, so I have found myself drawing in this Gospel as well.
I would be remarkably surprised if any of our chaplaincies which celebrates All Saints on Sunday doesn’t find itself singing ‘For all the saints’ at some point in the service. Sung to Vaughan Williams wonderful tune ‘Sine Nomine’ (‘Nameless’ – referring to the multitude of saints without number or name!) it is as much a part of the celebration of All Saints Day as Hark the Herald Angels Sing is of Christmas. It is interesting though that the words of the hymn were written at least 40 years before ‘Sine Nomine’ was composed: I wonder what it felt like to sing the hymn to the tune that was originally used for it?
But ‘For all the saints’ is not totally unproblematic! In fact it is quite militaristic in its language. Indeed a couple of the verses of the hymn are sometimes omitted for that reason. The Anglican priest-poet Jim Cotter, who died in 2014, is well-known for his alternative versions of a number of hymns, and he did the same for ‘For All the Saints’. You can find Cotter’s version in a number of places, including his book ‘Prayer in the Morning’. For copyright reasons I won’t include Cotter’s entire text in this blog… but to give you an idea of how he transposes the original words into a slightly different ‘key’, here is Cotter’s version of one of the latter verses:
And there will dawn a yet more glorious day,
The saints with laughter sing and dance and play
The Clown of glory tumbles in the Way: Alleluia!
I cherish the vivid images that spring to mind as I read or sing this!
‘For all the saints’ is not actually one of the ‘worst’ offenders when it comes to militaristic language in Christian songs and hymns. For me that particular accolade probably goes to either ‘Stand up, stand up for Jesus, ye soldiers of the Cross’, or ‘Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war’. Inevitably I have been personally affected by living in Lebanon during its civil war in which I encountered considerable numbers of ‘Christian soldiers’ or ‘soldiers of the Cross’ whose faith was expressed too readily via their sub-machine guns. Since then I find it very difficult to sing either of the two hymns I have mentioned above, though I found it interesting that when, while working for the World Council of Churches, and travelling internationally, those songs were very popular choices in many parts of the world which I visited.
So it is interesting to set alongside this that one of the key ‘Beatitudes’ in the text from the Sermon on the Mount which is the lectionary Gospel for All Saints is the blessing offered to peace-makers. The pledge that is offered to them is that they ‘will be called children of God’. (Matthew 5.12). The promise of being named as ‘children of God’ is picked up in the Epistle for this day, ‘See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God, and that we what we are…Beloved we are God’s children now ‘ (I John 3.1-2)
What is interesting however is that this reading from I John also includes a reference to ‘pure’ – a word which appears in the Beatitude which comes just before that associated with the peace-makers, ‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God’.
I John hints to me that we are supposed to see these four concepts peace-makers/pure in heart/seeing God/children of God as closely linked to each other. And in the process says something that feels only too relevant about peace-making. Namely that it is not simply an external process but requires of us – if we are to be ‘saints’ who follow the vocation of peace-makers – an inner transformation and purification.
In my interreligious work at the World Council of Churches and since, one of the issues that I was (and am) working on is the question of religiously motivated violence. It is not simply an ‘interreligious’ question – religiously motivated violence can certainly be ‘intra-religious’ as well. But it is certainly a question that often does arise in interreligious contexts.
Over the years I have got rather ‘allergic’ to being told in the various ‘high-level’ dialogue meetings I have participated in, that ‘our’ religion (whatever particular religion the speaker may profess!) is an engine of peace – certainly not of violence. It is a shallow statement and often to a considerable degree not reflective of reality..
Back in 2002, I remember listening to a speaker who brought his wisdom from Northern Ireland and who said starkly, ‘Unless religion is willing to acknowledge that it is part of the problem (when it comes to violence) then it cannot also be part of the solution. That has been a guiding principle for me ever since, and it is the focus of a current writing project of mine.
In the context of these readings for All Saints Day, perhaps my linked ‘take-away’ – drawing together the readings from the Beatitudes and from I John – is that if we who are called to be ‘saints’ are indeed to be peace-makers that will entail a willingness to be changed (‘purified’) ourselves. One cannot help make a full or enduring peace without being willing to undergo a personal and perhaps even painful process of transformation.
I will leave you, the readers, to draw out the implications of my comments for our difficult contemporary contexts. I do however note that the alternative lectionary Gospel for the Fourth Sunday before Advent (Matthew 24.1-14) also, by implication, offers a reminder of the way that the preciousness of the city of Jerusalem to peoples of several different faiths (‘competitively loved’ as Bishop Kenneth Cragg put it) has, throughout history, been itself a major cause.of war. One day, we must hope and pray, as the prayer below puts it, the city will live up to ‘the peace embedded in its name’.
Jerusalem, ‘perfection of beauty’,
City cherished and squabbled over,
Where hopes have been crucified
And the colours of resurrection still await the dawn.
We pray for all who love,
That as well as passion they may learn patience,
That their longings may lead to life,
That their faith in you may bring forth fruit,
For the healing of the nations.
Though your stones still cry aloud with the pain of centuries,
Drenched with the tears of the one who wept over you,
May the God who called this place his home
Give all people wisdom and courage
To discover in you the peace embedded in your name,
So that you may truly become, ‘The joy of all the earth’. Amen.
clare.amos@europe.anglican.org
faithineurope.net 