"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."
Holy God, may we remember those who have gone before us, that you say they are Blessed in ways in which the world may scorn, we pray that we may do your will and be counted as a saint, blessed be in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
One of the movies my family has watched over and over is The Princess Bride. In one of the scenes, a kidnapper of the princess repeatedly mutters: Inconceivable.
Inconceivable.
Another man responds:
"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."
That’s my common thought when I see t-shirts and wall icons and decals on the back of vehicles proudly stating,
I am Blessed.
We are indeed fortunate if we have a warm place to sleep, we have food to eat, and our family is not under a threat of violence, but Jesus doesn’t promise us that security. And we should be thankful. However, being blessed is not some sort of litmus test to tell us and others that we have God’s Ear, and that we will be rewarded with financial stability and health.
No, when we say we are blessed we actually are claiming we are holy.
That is the meaning in today’s Gospel.
Holy are you when you are persecuted.
Holy are you when you show mercy to someone.
Holy are you when people revile you.
Blessed equals holiness.
Blessed equals consecrated.
"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."
Perhaps the reason that I have such a strong reaction to the phrase, “I am Blessed” is because it has become a type of Christian codespeak. The spark of God is in all of us. Being holy is not a costume we put on. It’s not a group that is privileged while others are left out in the cold. Jesus welcomed those who were on the outside far more often than he praised the privileged.
Holiness is not a black and white proposition. To be fair, the first two readings give into that in-or-out mentality, especially if the entire chapter of First John is read. That is unfortunate, but not surprising. Revelations and First John both were written by a group of believers known as the Johannine, and they had a bit of history. To start, they lived around the time of Nero, so they had to worry about persecution. Only two answers were possible, and if you said Yes to a question about believing in Jesus, you could and likely would be killed. The Book of Revelation speaks in code about the depraved nature of Rome and the rewards of belief in Christ and the rewards of the afterlife.
Sometimes it seems as if humanity hasn’t progressed much since the first century. It’s easy to divide people into two groups, rather than seeing a spectrum of abilities, strengths and weaknesses. But it’s not a blessing when we divide people into camps. It’s not holy, and that’s not the Gospel.
Jesus didn’t share the Beatitudes as a way to convince us that life is about suffering. Indeed, the opposite is true. Jesus is saying that sometimes you will struggle. It is not the goal. We don’t get extra points for getting beat up. We’re not extra-blessed if we’re always in mourning. And while peacemaking is holy, being born doesn’t guarantee stability in location or circumstances.
That brings us to the holiness of All Saints’ Day. Saints are the holy people of God. Because of their humanity, they struggled. They were sinners as well as saints.
Let's think about that for a moment. Saints give us an example of moments of holiness sprinkled in with daily living. It’s uncomfortable to be put on the spot as holy, because the expectation becomes one of perfection. Saints are not perfect.
St. Francis had an explosive fight with his father, who told Francis he had squandered his resources by being too generous with the poor. In response, Francis stripped naked in the town square of Assisi and renounced his family as he walked out of the town’s gates .
Mother Teresa, who cared for the dying in Calcutta, was often abrupt with those who joined her for the work she did. She struggled with doubts about her own faith her entire life.
Jackson Kemper, the missionary bishop for this area during the pioneer times for the Episcopal Church, and definitely did the work of the Holy Spirit. He had a long legacy that included starting Seabury Seminary in Faribault, Minnesota, which is an ancestor seminary of my alma mater of Bexley Seabury in Chicago. But when seven Iowa churches banded together without his explicit permission to form the Diocese of Iowa here at a meeting in Muscatine, he was unavoidably detained and didn’t show up. I often think about that when I’m here in this space where that meeting occurred back in 1853. How the Holy Spirit sometimes uses people we may disagree with to further the Kingdom of God here on Earth.
Saints are sinners. We’re a mix of human frailty and also the potential our Creator has sprinkled upon our soul. Let’s add to a few stanzas to that idea of blessedness being the potential for good.
Blessed are you when you wear a mask to help protect others.
Blessed are you when you wash the dishes without asking.
Holy are you when you realize people are not defined by for whom they vote.
Holy are you when you step into the fray and stand up for another person.
Blessed are the essential workers and the exhausted parents and the online students who are trying to make it through the day.
Blessed are you when you build community in the coming days and weeks as we work to heal our divided country.
The holiness of our lives is consecrated with our intent and our actions. It’s not a grand expression that says we are always faithful, but it’s an admission that we are living and doing the best we can at the time. The community of saints is filled with men and women who have passed to the other side, imperfectly but authentically loving others through their entire lives.
Blessed.
"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."
But it’s absolutely true that each of us has moments of blessing every day.
Friends, may God bless you and may you be a blessing to God.
Amen.
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