Remember

All Saint's Day, even in Protestant churches, can be a celebration of remembrance. We can remember those in our families, and in the world, who have died during the past year. We can remember the 'saints' in the history of the Church, and in our own church. We can also take the opportunity to give thanks for those who have been saints along the way in our own faith journeys.

The texts for Nov. 1 lend themselves to this, but they also speak of God's desire to be remembered by God's people.

The Old Testament lesson, Deuteronomy 6:1-9, contains the Shema -- considered by some to be the most important prayer in Judaism -- "Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one." Some translations conclude with "...the Lord alone". (In Hebrew: Shema Yisrael YHWH Eloheinu YHWH Echad.) The passage continues with "Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength," and with instructions to keep these commandments by passing them on to generations, talking about them in private and public life, and using external rituals of binding them on their head and hands, and placing them on the doorposts of their home and gates. This passage is the source of the Jewish practice of wearing the scripture as phylacteries, or teffilin, and of the mezuzah on the doorposts of homes.

In the Gospel text, Mark 12:28-34, Jesus, when asked by a teacher of the law what the most important commandment is, recites the Shema, adding a second commandment, "Love your neighbor as yourself."

Jesus' act of remembrance comes out of his own Jewish faith. Yet, in adding this second commandment, it becomes cruciform. Love of the creator, but also love of fellow humankind -- if you visualize this, it takes the shape of a cross.

Christians don't pray the Shema or wear the teffilin or place a mezuzah on our doorposts. So is there anything we have, or do, that helps us remember these two commandments that Jesus said were the most important?

Many of us wear crosses ourselves. I have several, but one that I am particularly fond of was given to me by a dear cousin. It's a simple silver design by Atlanta jeweler James Avery, given to me around the time I started seminary. I wear it almost every day. Like many necklaces, the clasp always seems to make its way around to the front, so I find myself checking it and adjusting the clasp. To do this, I have to grasp the cross with one hand while I turn the chain with the other. I do it almost unconsciously -- but I suppose, if I thought about it, I could use this as an opportunity to remember: Love God, love your neighbor.

Even if we don't wear a cross -- we may have some other emblem, item or practice that helps us to remember. Some may have a tattoo, some have a bumper sticker, some may have a special prayer they say each day.

But regardless of how we remember, the important thing is that we remember. And as Disciples, we have the table, of course. Each week, as we gather there, we remember the one whose love of God and neighbor was so strong that he laid down his life for it.

Photo: laura.wilkerson1333 (Creative Commons license)

Minor Characters

2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19

The long arc of David’s story — from shepherd to giant-conqueror to warrior to fugitive to king — is told through 1 and 2 Samuel, and again in 1 and 2 Chronicles. This week’s Old Testament text portrays a triumphant moment for David. He’s leading a group of men, and they’re bringing the Ark of the Covenant to the city of David, playing musical instruments, shouting, and dancing with all their might.

And mentioned in the middle of the passage is Michal, daughter of Saul, who looked out the window and saw David “leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart.” (v. 16 )

Who is Michal, other than Saul’s daughter? Why does she despise the sight of David dancing? It’s tempting to skip over this single verse, because it doesn’t seem to fit.

Michal was Saul’s youngest daughter, and years ago, she fell in love with David. Her father found out, and used her as a pawn to lure David into a dangerous wager that Saul hoped would result in David’s death. David delivered on his end of the bargain, so Michal became his wife.

Not long after that, Michal defied her father and helped David escape, saving his life. And then he went on the run.

With David gone, Michal’s father gave her to another man in marriage. This man loved her — when David returned years later, triumphant, and sent men to bring Michal to him, her second husband followed, begging not to lose her. He was told to go back home. Scripture doesn’t tell us how Michal felt about this turn of events, but perhaps this week's text gives us a clue.

Michal is a minor character compared to others in the story — David, Saul, her brother Jonathan. But she still has a story. If given the chance, how would she tell it?

In our own lives, we often look at others as minor characters. Even if we understand our lives as part of God’s story, we still run the risk of putting ourselves, our family, our church, our friends, our workplace, our nation, and our culture, at the center. We almost can’t help it. It’s the “view from the ground.” It’s how we make sense of the world.

The danger is that in relegating others to a minor role, we may forget that with God, there are no minor characters. When we forget that, we lose our capacity for compassion outside of our small circle. We also lose our ability to be blessed by learning what God is doing in others' lives.

God, in the person of Jesus Christ, demonstrated quite often that in God’s story, there are no minor characters. He specialized in turning upside-down every conventional notion of "major" and "minor." He conversed with an outcast Samaritan woman at a well. He noticed a blind man calling out for mercy, and healed him. He called out Zaccheus, up in the tree, and invited himself to dinner. He saw a widow putting small change in the offering, and lifted her up to the disciples as an example of great generosity.

Who are the "minor characters" in our world today? Who are the "minor characters" in our own lives? How can seeing them differently help us to be more compassionate? How can seeing them differently allow us to receive the blessings they bring?