Have you ever stood in a place where something important once happened? Maybe the Alamo or even Plymouth Rock? Or maybe you have traveled further and stood somewhere like the Mount of Olives?


When we stand in these places, it’s almost like there is a collapsing of time. We can imagine those other events taking place around us and somehow nearly see ourselves as participants, it seems in some ways we gain clarity from those other moments in time.


In our story today Joshua has chosen just such a place for his final address to the people of Israel.  They have gathered, west of the Jordan River, in Shechem, a place located in a mountain pass heading east/west between Mt Ebal and Mt Geraziim. The pass is not so wide. If you stood at the base of Mt. Ebal where the land levels out and started walking, you would reach the rise of Mt. Geraziim in about six minutes at a good pace.  Nearby are the great Oaks of Moreh. And for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years, people have gathered here beneath these trees, in the shadows of these mountains, to learn and to worship and to make covenants with God.


Joshua and the people of Israel have been here before. 


It was here that Joshua built an altar and gathered all the people as Moses had instructed -- to review the covenant that God made with them and to proclaim the Blessings and Curses—blessings if they remained faithful to the Lord, and curses if they forsook the Lord, according to the law of Moses. 


It was here that Jacob, also known as Israel, had set up an altar to the Lord in gratitude for being reunited with his brother Esau.


It was also here that Jacob, had called upon his entire family to give up their idols to foreign gods and consecrate themselves to the Lord and bury those idols beneath the tree at Moreh.


And it was here at the great tree of Moreh, that Jacob’s grandfather, Abraham, had first heard the promise of the LORD, “To your offspring I will give this land.” And Abraham had responded in gratitude by building an altar.


So many layers of history and time,

So many journeys and wanderings.

Altars built and idols buried.

Covenants made and broken and renewed.


In this sacred space, Joshua begins by recounting all the many ways that the LORD has been with them—how the LORD called Abraham out of his land and gave him promises, how Jacob and his sons went down to Egypt, how the LORD delivered the children of Israel from slavery, how the LORD gave the law to Moses and watched over the people and provided for them in the wilderness, and how the LORD has driven out the nations before them and given them this land flowing with abundance.


Then Joshua challenges them to fear the LORD and serve him faithfully and throw away their foreign gods, and he says, “but if you are unwilling to serve the Lord, then choose this day whom you will serve…”


The people gathered at Shechem that day respond, “Far be it from us that we should forsake the LORD to serve other gods…he has been there for us…he has seen us through…we will serve the LORD for he is our God”


But then, as if Joshua knows they are just saying the “right words”, he counters them—“You can’t do it! God is holy, and God wants all of you—not just a part. If you say you will serve the LORD and then forsake him and give your allegiance to other things—God is going to challenge you and call you out on your unfaithfulness.” And the people respond with added vigor. “No, we will serve the LORD our God.”


Then Joshua said to the people, “You are witnesses against yourselves that you have chosen the Lord, to serve him.” And they said, “We are witnesses.” He said, “Then put away the foreign gods that are among you, and incline your hearts to the Lord, the God of Israel.” 

 

As I meditated on this passage I found myself wondering, “What are those other gods that call for our allegiance in our day? On what altars do we sacrifice our time? Our health? Our children? Maybe they are the gods of Wealth, or Security, or Prestige. To whom do we pay homage by fearing? Do we fear the gods of Poverty, or Rejection, or Illness? I am working through this for myself—what do I fear? What am I willing to make compromises or sacrifices for? And am I willing to throw away or bury all those things and put my full trust in the LORD?


For some of us our sacred places have been taken away, we are unable to return to those places where our ancestors went before to make their vows to the LORD. And yet, we have an experience that bears much the same power and weight.


Last week we renewed our Baptismal Covenant. We renew it every All Saints Day and every Pentecost Sunday and every year on the Baptism of our Lord and every time there is a Baptism in our midst. It was declared at our own baptism and we proclaimed it when our children were presented to the LORD. In Baptism we are reminded of the waters of creation and the waters through which the children of Israel passed. We are reminded of our sin and our redemption in Christ and the offer to be made whole again.


So many layers of history and time,


So many journeys and wanderings.


Altars built and idols buried.


Covenants made and broken and renewed.



And we make our vows and we recite our creeds and we say the words of our confession. But then, as if Joshua knows we are just saying the “right words,” he counters us—“You can’t do it! God is holy, and God wants all of you—not just a part. If you say you will serve the LORD and then forsake him and give your allegiance to other things—God is going to challenge you and call you out on your unfaithfulness.” And we respond with added vigor. “No, we will serve the LORD our God.”


Then Joshua says to us, “You are witnesses against yourselves that you have chosen the Lord, to serve him.” And we say, “We are witnesses.” He says, “Then put away the foreign gods that are among you, and incline your hearts to the Lord, the God of Israel.” 


And from our Baptismal Covenant we respond, “We will, with Gods help.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     


By Paula Jefferson November 2, 2025
It has only been a few months since we last heard this particular Gospel reading. While I was driving up and down Highway 35 last week, I thought about how we might approach the text differently…especially on All Saints Sunday. This is the day we remember all the faithful people who have gone before us…ordinary and extraordinary folks who lived lives of love, mercy, courage and hope. I began with questions: Who is a saint? Who is not a saint? The second question is much easier to answer. We can all think of people throughout history who would definitely not fit any definition of sainthood. But the other question is harder. It brought to mind a character who wears a red suit, big white beard, moves around in a sleigh pulled by reindeer. Santa Claus is an icon of generosity. But is that the fullness of a saintly life? We often admire people for what shines outwardly: strength, beauty, power, fame, athleticism, traveling the globe on Christmas Eve delivering millions of gifts…because that stuff is easy to see and easy to glorify. But Luke is reminding us that true blessedness looks very different…it is found in the poor, the hungry, those who mourn. Blessed are those who are rejected or marginalized because they embody love…feeding the hungry, forgiving enemies, speaking truth to power. Paraphrasing Jesus: Blessed are you who are living in such a way that your life looks like mine. So what are the signs of a Christ-shaped--or saintly--life? To answer that, I drew from Jesus’s sermon on the Plain and a few well-known saints. 1. Humility —Jesus said, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” Richard Foster devoted his life to guiding Christians into deeper spiritual formation. He described humility as the freedom to see ourselves truthfully, to rely fully on God, and to serve others without seeking recognition. [1] Humility reflects the blessedness of those who recognize their dependence on God. 2. Courage —Jesus said, “But I say to you who hear: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer devoted his life to following Christ faithfully in a world that was in moral and political crisis. He said that moral courage is nurtured in the context of faithful Christian community. Courage is faithfully doing what is right, trusting God’s guidance, even when it costs us. [2] His moral courage exemplifies living faithfully in the face of evil. 3. Joy —Jesus said, “Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied…Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.” Henri Nouwen devoted his life to helping others encounter God’s love through prayer, presence, and compassionate service…especially alongside the most vulnerable among us. He said that joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day. It is a choice based in the knowledge that we belong to God and have found in God our refuge and our safety and that nothing, not even death, can take God away from us. [3] 4. Love and mercy in action — Jesus said, “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” Mother Teresa devoted her life to making Christ’s love tangible through service to the poorest, sickest, and most marginalized people in the world. For her, love was not an abstract idea—it was what you do with your hands and heart every day. She incarnated mercy in action, making tangible the call to bless and serve others. 5. Faithfulness in difficulty —Jesus said, “Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man.” Martin Luther King, Jr. devoted his life to pursuing justice and equality through nonviolence and love rooted in faith and moral conviction. He said, “The ultimate measure of a [person] is not where they stand in moments of comfort and convenience, but where they stand at times of challenge and controversy.” [4] His nonviolent witness and moral perseverance reflect Jesus’ promise of blessing for those who are persecuted and remain steadfast in their faith. There’s something of a paradox here that drew my attention. Each of these Christ-shaped lives emerged in response to real suffering, injustice or need. If Christianity had not moved through a period of superficial evangelism in the 20 th Century, we would not know Richard Foster. Without Adolf Hitler and the evil that surrounded him, we would not know Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s name. He would be a little-known academician teaching systematic theology. Without societies that toss aside people with disabilities, Henri Nouwen would have been a Roman Catholic priest none of us knew. Without human class systems that devalue whole groups of people, Mother Teresa would not be a household name. Without systemic racism, Martin Luther King, Jr. would have been a Baptist preacher in an Atlanta Church. We would not know his name. Each of these people responded to the wounds and injustices they saw in their own time in their own backyard. They took up the cross of love and carried it just a little farther. And I wonder if that quality is the benchmark of sainthood? As I look around this congregation, I see 100 saints: people who walk into classrooms every day, prepared to teach growing minds; people who walk with friends going through difficulties like loss of memory; people who feed the hungry: with meals on wheels, Union Gospel Mission, food pantries in Fort worth, and in leper colonies far away; people who make bed rolls for the homeless; Sunday School teachers who faithfully prepare to help children, youth, and adults grow in faith. People who extend hospitality to us and to St. Matthew’s and to families who gather here to celebrate the lives of their saints. Friends, we live in a very challenging era of American life. Everywhere we look, we see signs of division, misunderstanding, and an inability to work together for the common good. It is, I think, a reflection of a deep dysfunction in our culture….an incapacity to listen well, to negotiate in good faith, and to compromise for the sake of the whole. In times like this, the calling of the Church is extraordinary. We are called to embody the values of God’s reign: faithfulness, humility, courage, joy, and love---showing the world what it means to live differently, even when society struggles to do so. We, too, must take up the cross of love in our own lives, carrying it just a little farther each day. And as we do, we join the great communion of saints who have walked before us, who have borne witness to God’s love in times of trial, and who now cheer us on as we continue the journey. [1] Richard J Foster; Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth [2] Dietrich Bonhoeffer; Life Together [3] Henri Nouwen; Spirituality & Practice [4] Martin Luther King, Jr; Strength to Love 1963
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