Once
upon a time, a very long time ago, but not very far away at all, a man
named Sebastian was born in a town called Narbonne, in
France. Of
course, it wasn’t called France then; it was called Gaul– it was the
third century after Jesus and the area was under the rule of the
Romans. Sebastian grew up to be very smart and very strong,
and
like a lot of smart and strong young men of his time, one day he said
goodbye to his family and he set off for Rome. And there,
like so
many others, he became a soldier in the Roman army.
But there
was something different about Sebastian. Sebastian did not
join
the army of Rome seeking to seek fame and fortune. Because
Sebastian was a Christian. And knowing that Christians were
being
imprisoned and killed throughout the Roman Empire, he joined the army
in order to do what he could to save his brothers and
sisters.
And he did it knowing that eventually he would probably be discovered,
tortured, and killed.
But Sebastian wasn’t just brave.
There must have been something about his faith in Christ, something
about how he lived, that witnessed to God’s love in a really powerful
way. Through him, many Romans became Christians.
And not
just any Romans: powerful officials of the empire, people
with a
lot to lose. There was Nicostratus, the man in charge of all
the
prisoners in Rome. Claudius, the jailer. And
Chromatius, a
leading city official, who set free the prisoners under his care,
released all his slaves, and resigned his position because of his love
for Christ. Sebastian had a special ministry with prisoners
and
those who oversaw them. He offered encouragement and love to
Christians imprisoned for their faith.
Miraculous
healings were attributed to him. When he spoke, it was said,
it
was as if he were surrounded by a warm glow of light. And he
did
all this in the midst of great danger – he could have been discovered
by the Roman government at any moment. But as the persecution
intensified, Sebastian refused to flee to a safer place and continued
his ministry.
And then, one day, he was betrayed by one
of his disciples to the emperor. When Sebastian affirmed
publicly
that he was a follower of Jesus, the emperor ordered him to be put to
death. His executioners shot him through with arrows and left
him
for dead. And this is how he is most often remembered – in
stained glass windows, in numerous paintings in the Louvre, in churches
throughout the world. A strong and brave man, tied to a tree,
shot with arrows, and abandoned. Stories say that when
Sebastian’s fellow Christians went to recover his body, they found that
he was still alive. He regained his strength, sought out the
emperor, and confronted him, denouncing him for his persecution of
Christians. The emperor had him beaten to death.
In
recognition of his faith, both the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox
Churches have recognized Sebastian as a saint, and his life and witness
are celebrated every year on January 20 – today – as the feast day of
St. Sebastian.
Now, it’s worth asking – how did Sebastian become
St. Sebastian? How did he end up becoming St. Sebastian and
not
just Sebastian, a really great guy? It seems that very early
in
the history of the church, individual communities began the tradition
of remembering the lives of local Christians who had been killed for
their faith every year on the anniversary of their death.
Often
churches were built over their tombs. Eventually these local
celebrations spread and particular martyrs became respected more
widely. People began to think that perhaps these martyred
Christians, because of their extraordinary faith, might have some kind
of special influence with God in heaven. Surely God would be
more
likely to grant a request if it came through someone like Sebastian who
was so close to God. So the practice of asking saints for
intercession with God began and spread. Miracles were
attributed
to the intercession of particular saints.
Eventually the church
hierarchies in Rome and Constantinople began to standardize the process
of who got to be considered a saint. In general, there were
two
requirements: first, extraordinary virtue. And
second,
documented miracles in response to prayers for the saint’s
intercession. Now there are hundreds and hundreds of saints.
Now
that’s very interesting, some of you might be saying…but we’re
Protestants. We don’t get into that sort of
stuff.
And you’re right. Some of our Protestant traditions might
refer
to the apostles as Saint Peter, Saint John, and so on, but in general,
we don’t go for it.
And we have good reasons for this –
primarily Biblical reasons. In the New Testament, the word
“saint” does not mean “someone who is incredibly, extraordinarily
good.” It is never, not once, used to refer to a particularly
faithful Christian. In the New Testament, “saint” is simply
the
most common word for a believer, for a follower of Jesus
Christ.
A saint is a Christian – any Christian. Not someone who was
perfect, not necessarily a great theologian on someone who died for the
faith. Just a Christian.
“Saint” or hagios in
Greek, is the Apostle Paul’s favorite word for a believer. In
fact, he never uses the word “Christian.” It seems that it
didn’t
even exist until after his letters were written. The root of
the
word ‘saint’ is hagios “holy,” which means “set apart for a
particular purpose.” Paul loves to refer to believers as
saints –
he does it over and over, including in our New Testament reading this
morning:
To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified in
Jesus Christ, who are called to be saints.
He
is addressing his letter not just to the leaders of the church at
Corinth, not just to the particularly faithful, but to all the
Christians in that place. All Christians, he is saying, are
called to be saints. We are called to be set apart for God’s
special purpose.
The most essential thing about being a
Christian is simply to say YES to God’s call to you. God
invites
all of us, every one of us, to join in his purpose for the
world.
This purpose, I believe, is to see the entire world come under the rule
of Christ; to see the entire world become the Kingdom of God…because
when Christ is in charge, the world comes alive. Every
molecule,
every particle, every animal, every person is exactly as it should be
and radiates joy. Evil is defeated, the broken becomes whole,
and
the only law is love. And God has invited us to be set apart
for
the purpose of creating such a world. Not bad.
A saint, in
Biblical terms, is not a 1000 year old monk in a robe. A
saint is
simply someone who has said YES to God’s invitation to join in this
purpose.
That is it. That is what it means to be a
saint. That is what it means to be a Christian. You
don’t
have to have faced down lions or performed miraculous
healings.
You just have to say yes to Christ. Everyone. You
and
me. We all can be saints. Saint Susan, Saint Fred,
Saint
Liz, Saint Olivier. We can be saints. All we have
to do is
say YES to God.
That’s a little bit scary isn’t it? I
don’t know about you, but when I think of the state of St. Ginger’s
heart, when I think of my own capacity to hurt other people, to turn my
back on God, I feel ashamed to be called a Christian, much less a
saint. I want to say, that’s great Lord, I’d love to work for
your purpose in the world, but I’ve got to take care of my own sin
first. I am way way too far from being good enough to do your
work.
Have you ever felt that way? Like you are too sinful
to serve God? We’ll start praying, we tell ourselves, AFTER
we
get a few things figured out. After I’ve stopped drinking,
after
I’ve gotten through the problems in my marriage, after I learn to
control my temper…then I can be closer to God, then I can work on being
a saint.
I don’t think that the Apostle Paul would be
sympathetic to our worries. He would not care a bit that we
feel
too sinful to serve God. After all, in this letter, he is
writing
to the Corinthians, who were definitely not girl scouts.
Corinth
was infamous for its abuse and mistreatment of the poor. In
addition, being a port city, it was also famous for its
prostitutes. And the Corinthian Christians were not an island
of
perfection in the midst of the sinful city. In his letter,
Paul
castigates then for their jealousy and quarrelling, for being arrogant,
litigious, and sexually immoral, for their lawlessness, and for
callously ignoring the suffering of the poor. Whew.
And yet
he calls them saints.
The fact of the matter is God does
not call us because we are good, because we are capable or
talented. God does not call us because we deserve
it. We
are called by God, we are set apart for God’s purpose, not because of
anything we have done but because God loves us. It is as if
each
one of us has received a phone call from the coach of the French
national soccer team, saying “I want you to come play for us.
Yes, I know you’re not French. I know you’ve never played
soccer
before and every time you try to kick the ball you fall down.
But
I love you and care about you so much that I want you to be on my
team. I just want to be around you.” Of course,
that
example doesn’t work well if you are indeed French and good at
soccer. In any case, every human person is called by God to
join
in God’s great purpose simply because God loves every one of us.
And
we should not refuse to say YES to God because we doubt our own
capacities. Our capability is not the point. The
point is
God’s love for us, God’s loving call to us in Christ. Yes, we
are
sinful. Yes, our rebellious natures, our faults, our serious
defects hold us back. But in spite of this, in spite of this
we
are called to be saints. We are set apart for God’s purpose,
for
working for God’s kingdom of love and justice. We cannot use
our
sins as an excuse to put off getting to know and serve God.
This
is not to say that we can just elevate ourselves to sainthood and let
ourselves off the hook. Our sin, the things in our life that
separate us from God and from other people, these things still
matter. The root word for saint is the same as the root of
the
world ‘sanctification.” To sanctify is to make
‘holy.’ To
be a saint, is to be in the process of sanctification.
In
today’s reading, Paul refers to the Corinthians as people who are
“sanctified, or made holy, in Christ Jesus.” On the one hand,
sanctification refers to the work of making us holy that Jesus has
already done. It is offer of a place on the French national
soccer team from the coach. On the other hand, sanctification
also refers to the Holy Spirit’s work in us after we have accepted
Christ – God’s work in us to free us from our sins and make us more
whole, more alive, more like Christ. It is as if, once we
have
been accepted on the soccer team, we respond to this honor by training
as hard as we can. We know we’ll never get good enough to
actually deserve being on the team, but we can allow the coach to work
with us and grow in our skills. That process of working with
the
coach is also sanctification. We are already accepted and
loved
by God, but we must do all that we can to respond to that love, we must
be willing to allow the Spirit to work in us, to change us, to train us
to work more effectively for God’s purpose.
Yes, we are
already saints. But this cannot allow us to become
complacent; it
cannot be an excuse for staying in our sin. But the fact that
Paul calls the obviously imperfect Corinthians ‘saints’ can remind us
that God makes us into warriors during the battle – God makes us into
good soccer players during the game. God does not work with
us to
heal our brokenness and free us from our sin in some space away from
every day life. God doesn’t stop and make us perfect before
we
begin to live as Christians. No, it is the midst of our messy
lives, in the midst of our fumbling attempts to follow God, that we are
made more Holy.
Saint Ignatius, God says, you are a
little bit whiny. Nevertheless, I have big plans for
you.
You are going to love me and serve my world. Saint
Bernadette,
you are pretty selfish. Nevertheless, I have a purpose for
you.
Saints, God says to all of us, get moving. I have called you
for a purpose.
As
Protestants, there are parts of the veneration of saints, and saints
this time I mean famous and outstanding Christians, that we might find
troubling and unbiblical. But there are also important things
that we can learn. We can look to the lives of the saints for
inspiration. Knowing as we do that we too are saints, that we
are
not categorically different from the heroes of the faith that have gone
before us, we can look at the incredible things that they have done and
know that we are capable of the same kind of faithfulness. So
often we set the bar too low. We underestimate what we are
capable of doing in service of God. Read about Saint Vincent
of
Paul, who wandered the streets of Paris at night looking for anyone who
was suffering from cold or hunger and remember that we can do more to
help others. Read about St. Clare, who joyfully gave up all
she
owned and inspired thousands to join her in service, and remember that
we can do more to inspire and encourage those around us. Read
about Dr. Martin Luther King, Junior, whose birthday we celebrate this
Sunday, and remember that our faith and the pursuit of justice are not
separable – that we could do more to change the societies in which we
live.
Paul reminds the Corinthians that “in every way they
have been enriched in Christ,” that they “are not lacking in any
spiritual gift” as they wait for Christ’s coming. We are not
lacking in any of these gifts either. Sometimes we need the
reminder that we are capable of so much more than we can
imagine.
In addition,
looking at lives of the saints can remind us that we have a tendency to
skip over huge swaths of Christian history. There were the
disciples, then there was Martin Luther, and now there’s me.
Reading about the lives of famous saints can fill in these gaps and
help us to remember that we are part of an unbroken chain of believers
that extends from the first disciples to this church at this moment to
the end of time, when all of creation will worship God
together.
We are not the first people to deal with temptation and suffering and
we will not be the last. The church has been through a lot in
the
last 2000 years and it will last until Jesus comes again - not because
the church is good but because God is faithful. Remembering
that
helps me to put my worries and problems into proportion. It
helps
me to remember that even if the American Church in Paris goes through a
few bumps, the chain will not be broken. It helps me to
remember
that God has been faithful in the past and that we can trust him now.
I
love the song “When the Saints Go Marching In,” which we’ll get to sing
in few moments. Whenever I hear it, I picture row
upon row
of these famous saints, limping up to heaven. They have
calloused
knees from hours spent in prayer; they are clothed only in rags because
they’ve given everything else away; they are bleeding from the torture
they have undergone for their faith. They are super
Christians,
the superheros of the faith. But mixed in with them, we can
picture row upon row of sinners, we can picture ourselves.
Doing
our best to respond to the call of God. Saints because we are
called by God, set apart for God’s purpose. Saints because
God
loves us.
