Revelation 7:9-17; Psalm 34: 1-10, 22; I John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12
The Rev. Candice B. Frazer
One was a soldier, and one was a beast, and one was killed by a fierce wild priest! Or was that one was a priest, and one was killed by a fierce wild beast? I sing a song of the saints of God was written by Lesbia Scott, the wife of an Anglican priest in England. Her children would ask her for a verse at bedtime or when they were having a picnic and she would make up little rhymes to pacify them. This particular hymn is based off one of those rhymes that had been published in a little book of verse that she had written for her children. She had no idea that it would be put to music and become a favorite of protestant Christians—especially Anglicans.
The hymn itself is joyful which is ironic considering the subject matter. Of the six saints identified in the hymn, two if not three were martyred, most of them were socially and politically rejected, and all of them suffered for their faith.
“One was a doctor” refers to Saint Luke. He wrote two of the books of the New Testament—the Gospel of Luke and The Acts of the Apostles. He is thought to have been a physician and certainly dedicated his life to the spiritual healing of people as he professed the gospel. Some believe he died peacefully in his 80s after a life of evangelism. Others believe he was martyred by the Roman Emperor Nero soon after Saint Peter.
“And one was a queen” known as Queen Margaret of Scotland. She was born in exile in Hungary and returned to Britain as a child. She was a Christian and spent her life tending to the poor, feeding the orphan, even paying for the restoration of the monastery at Iona. She died of a broken heart within a week of hearing that her husband and sons had been killed in battle.
“And one was a shepherdess on the green” is Joan of Arc. Born the daughter of a poor, sheep herding family she had a vision from God that she would help defeat the English that held France captive. She traded in her tattered shepherdess clothing for battle dress and led the French to victory. She was captured on the battlefield and tried before the English Inquisition for heresy and cross dressing. She would neither recant nor change her clothes and thus was found guilty and burned at the stake.
“One was a soldier” refers to Martin of Tours. Against his family’s wishes, he became a priest but because his father was retired military, Martin was required to join the Roman army. Though forced to be a soldier of Rome, Martin was considered the first conscientious objector. He refused to use his sword to kill and instead used it for kindness by dividing his cloak and giving half of it to a beggar who was cold. He was imprisoned for his refusal to fight and volunteered to go to the front lines without a weapon. Before he could get to the front, the enemy surrendered and Martin was released from both prison and the military. He became a priest and later a bishop. He is directly responsible for the etymology of the words chapel and chaplain as they are rooted in the Latin word for little cloak, capella.
“One was a priest” is a reference to John Donne. Born a Roman Catholic, he would become an Anglican priest late in life. He married against his father-in-law’s (the Lieutenant of the Tower of London)wishes and was imprisoned for it a short while. Upon his release, and because he had lost all of his inheritance in loose living, he lived off the assistance of relatives. Donne and his wife, Ann More, had twelve children of which two were stillborn and three died in childhood. His wife died soon after giving birth to their twelfth child. Donne struggled with suicide in the deaths of his children and mourned the loss of his love. He would go on to write some of the most beautiful poetry in English history. After his years of poverty, he would end his life as Dean of St. Paul’s Cathedral.
“And one was killed by a fierce wild beast”—our final saint is Ignatius of Antioch. Tradition identifies him as one of the little ones who sat on Jesus’ knee. Regardless of whether or not Ignatius knew Jesus, he became a Christian and refused to renounce his faith and denied the Roman gods resulting in his being fed to the lions for the crowds delight in the Coliseum.
These are serious saints that speak to such tragedy in Christian history. And yet, we sing about them in a children’s song. The song has come under fire over the years for its apparent lack of reverence for what these six people, and so many others we consider saints, have done to contribute to the faith. At the same time, it is one of the most popular and well-known Christian hymns of the modern era. The tune is American and the words are British—it is certainly not one of those dusty, dead German composers we love to sing on Sundays. And in many ways it reminds me of what we truly celebrate on All Saints’ Day—the joy of a sacrificial life.
To live as a sacrificial Christian is not necessarily about a willingness to die for Jesus—though that may be true. It is much more about a willingness to die to self—the false self—that distracts us from a true life with Christ. Thomas Merton describes a moment of great clarity when he was in the midst of a shopping district in Louisville and he suddenly realized that he loved all those around him, that they belonged to one another—he to them and them to him—even though they were total strangers. It was as if he could see the secret beauty hidden in the core of every heart—not their sin or hatred or cruelty or greed—he saw them as God sees us, as God’s children.
We are so attached to this false self of who we are, of how we see one another. Our attachment to this false self weighs a heavy burden upon us as individuals and as a society. In order to live fully and freely in the most basic way that God sees and knows us as his children, we must die to this false self and come alive in our true self. That sacrifice of the false self brings us joy and peace. It is what Jesus describes as an easy yoke and a light burden. It is a place of delight even when we suffer.
To die to the false self and begin to see the true self is to sing a song of the saints of God and see the world as bright with joyous saints who love to do Jesus’ will. You can meet them at school or in lanes or at sea; in church or in trains or in shops or at tea. The saints of God are folks just like you and me. The only difference is that they have set aside the distractions and judgments of the world to open their hearts in faithfulness to God’s will and desire for them.
We might not get thrown to the lions or stand up in defiance of an empire, but we can live faithfully. We can allow our hearts to be broken open to others in love regardless of whether we know them, like them, or agree with them. We can give of our lives in service to others—in our community, the workplace, church, even our homes. We can return to God a portion of that which God has given us.
Today is Celebration Sunday, a time when we return to God a portion of what God has given us, in praise and thanksgiving of those gifts of God. It is also a time to celebrate our partnership with God and one another as we support the mission and ministry of this place—the sharing of love and grace to a dark and broken world. This church stands as a beacon of light to the world. It is a place of possibility, connection, and belonging. It is a place in which to witness as the saints of God that we want to be too.
I John reminds us that we are beloved children of God. Jesus reminds us through the beatitudes that this life is not an easy one but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a joyful one. Blessed are we when we do not allow the distractions of the world to keep us from dying to false self and embracing our true self in joy and wonder; when we embrace the spirit of all the saints as a little child might receive them and claim our true inheritance in the kingdom of God.