Serman Sunday 31 sr October, 2010

Very truly I tell you---just as the Father raises the dead & gives them life, so also the Son gives Life!

May I speak in the name of God, forever creating, redeeming and sustaining. Amen.

I want to talk to you about death; about departure; and about - well, actually - donuts. Death - because like taxes - it is a certainty in an uncertain world; and because it is the eve of All Hallows. Departure - because as Mr Magnorium says, in the marvellous family movie, "Mr Magnorium's Wonder Emporium", "light bulbs die; I depart." And donuts - well, just the thought, like the sugar of the real thing, will probably serve to keep you awake in case you miss something; more about donuts later.
So firstly, death. Death really is a taboo in our culture. We avoid even the word if we can. No one dies any more. We "lose" them They "pass away", and even our funerals have become more of a celebration of life, than an opportunity for grief. Some of you I know are here today, because someone whom you deeply loved has died in the past year. And our hearts go out to you today, because the ache you feel today is shared in some measure by all of us. For to know the joy of human life and love, is also and always to know the pain of human death. And this time of year, All Saints and especially All Souls' - tide is an occasion to acknowledge that, and to address our grief at some little distance from its beginning. It is also an opportunity to set that grief in the context of the promises of the gospel.
Jesus said "Blessed are those who mourn." He meant I believe, that such people have known love and connection and relationship - and therefore have had something and someone to lose; and are happy in that sense. But even more powerfully, Paul writes "Death is swallowed up in victory." For the Christian death is not the end. The resurrection of Jesus shatters the idea that human beings cease to be. Which brings us to the notion of "departure".
Now departures are not easy. Anyone whose even been in the departure lounge of a major international airport knows that. The air is thick with fears, anxieties, hopes, longings spoken and unspoken. Every human parting, as has been said, is a "little death." They are, as it were, "practice runs". Little opportunities to strengthen our wills and our wings for the big "take-off"; chances to experience for "letting-go", that we will need when it becomes our turn, out time "to depart."
As the Bishop of Skondi, Ghana writes, "Those who die in Christ are near to God. They are only sleeping. Death is only a night's kiss from God. It is not death to those who love God. It is an exodus. It is going out to God." We depart in order to be with God which is far better. A little story.
An elderly woman who was a very active and faithful member of her parish for years was dying, and she asked the priest to visit her to talk about her funeral. She said, "When I am laid out in my casket, I want my rosary in one hand, and a fork in the other." The priest was caught by surprise; "You want to be buried with a fork?" "Yes. I have been looking back at all the Church dinners that I've attended over the years. I remember that at all those meals, when we were almost finished, someone would come to the table to collect the dirty dishes, and usually they would say, "Keep your fork." That meant that dessert was coming. When they said that, I knew the best was yet to come! That's exactly what I want people to talk about at my funeral. When people see me in my casket, I want them to turn to one another and say: "why the fork?" ; and I want you to tell them, that I kept it because the best is yet to come."
Jonathan's Aunty Molly, who died this year, would have agreed with that story, for she was fond of dessert, and a wonderful example of Christian faith and service. So finally, while we're on dessert, what about the donuts?
Buried far back behind the American custom of "trick and treating" at this season, lies the medieval Christian tradition of "souling". Beggars would go from house to house asking for food - a "soul cake" in return for saying a prayer for the departed members of a household. They would chant
'A soul cake, a soul cake,
Pray, good missus, a soul cake,
An apple, a pear, a plum, a cherry,
Any good thing to make us all merry,
One for Peter, two for Paul,
Three for Him who made us all.
Up with the kettle and down with the pan,
Give us good alms and we'll be gone.

Tradition has it that one cook, aware that many beggars were in it for the free food not the praying, decided to reinfuse the custom with proper religious sentiment. So she cut a hole in the middle of her soul cake dough and dropped it into hot fat, inventing the doughnut. The idea was that every time the recipient bit into the circle of dough, representing the endless circle of eternity, they would be reminded of their duty to pray; and of the endless encircling love of God which sustains us all.

So as we come now to remember those whom we love but see no more, let us remember that they are only a little further along the path than we are; all of us travelling back to the source of all life; the endless eternal light and love of God. Amen.

And so let us pray; Loving God we bring to you the memory of our loved ones and the grief we feel; grant them your peace; let light perpetual shine upon them and in your loving wisdom work in them the good purpose of your perfect will, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.