In the Presence of Saints

Truth be told, I've never pondered the power of being surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. I know many people who pray for the saints, including my Catholic husband. I have participated in liturgies where we name how the communion of saints intercede on our behalf. But I often struggle with what this intercession looks like as I wrestle with the Hallmark images of heaven versus a seminary professor who called it heresy to sing "I'll Fly Away." 

My prayer life is grounded in traditional practices - a bit of scripture, an app to guide my way, countless books on my shelf from which to choose, and solid time in my comfy chair first thing in the morning. I also pray in my car or while walking down the street. And, Craig never lets me take a bite to eat without him giving thanks for our food. 

I've never considered myself anything close to a mystic. But something mystical happened to me yesterday while on retreat at a nearby monastery. 

When packing 26 books on Sunday afternoon, I added a study Bible I have not used in a while. It's one I used to turn to often before gravitating to a different one for use at home and another one at the office. I'm not sure why I selected this one. But, in some mystical way, it now makes sense.

When I opened it yesterday, I found a prayer tucked inside. Its words have been typed and copied often. There are a few typos. "Amen" is spelled "A-Men." It's a prayer that was placed before me not long after I arrived in 2005, when I used to gather with a group of longtime members of our church and a few others for Bible study each week. I don't know who first suggested we pray the prayer. But we never started our reading without it. The words mean more to me today than they did at the time. As I read them again yesterday, I realize how I was, indeed, praying with the saints - people who longed to become the people God called and created them to be - even in their 80s, 90s or 100. Nearly all of them are gone. But yesterday I paused and gave thanks for Jean, Lois, Gilbert, Howard, and Ruth who are all with the saints of light - and Mary Elizabeth and Annie Lou who are still on their journey of discipleship. I recall how much time we spent together - praying these words, studying scripture, and then praying for each other. We were shaped and formed together every single week.

After pondering the prayer and each one of them, I returned to my work. I always come to the abbey with a clear set of expectations for my week: to read as much as I can, to have a sense of where I'm headed in my preaching on Easter morning, to pray, and to plan sermon series - sometimes for the whole year and other times for a season.

With a half a dozen books already read, I turned to the work of finishing a short reflection for Palm Sunday and then study for Easter. And it is then when I experienced a profound sense of being surrounded by the saints. Words from John 20 nearly leapt off the page of my Bible, words I've not noticed before found in an explanation in this particular study Bible. It was clear that these words were to form the foundation of my Easter sermon. My reflections for Palm Sunday then came through in a matter of minutes. It rarely happens this way. So often sermon writing can entail sitting in a chair for hours as I wait for something to surface. But yesterday, I was given clear direction. It was almost as if the Wednesday Bible study was reading scripture with me, saying out loud, "But isn't this interesting? What do you think of this?"

Perhaps the saints are all around us - praying for us, seeking God's very best for our lives, interceding on our behalf. Lois, Howard, and Ruth I miss you terribly. I often wish you could see all God is doing in your church today. But perhaps you can. It seems clear that you want to be part of Easter.

Perhaps you've made me a mystic after all.

For all the saints who from their labors rest,

who Thee by faith before the world confessed;

Thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest.

Alleluia, Alleluia!

Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress, and their Might;

Thou, Lord, their Captain in the well-fought fight;

Thou, in the darkness drear, their one true Light.

Alleluia, Alleluia!

O blest communion, fellowship divine!

We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;

yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine.

Alleluia, Alleluia!