therefore since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses...

This has been an introspective day: I started to build my All Saints/All Souls Day family altar. For the better part of the morning I went through the scrapbooks my daughter M compiled for me over the years. In addition to the care and beauty she brought to this task, there are wonderful pictures evoking important memories and a collection of letters from friends and colleagues. What a treasure. Then I worked my way through a vat of unorganized pictures and papers that I had set aside nearly two years ago. That, too was fascinating and I came up with some more winners.

About this time last year I participated in an on-line study organized by the Abbey of the Arts called "Honoring Saints and Ancestors." One of the suggested practices involved creating an altar to celebrate and honor those in our lives and families who have helped shape and guide us. Two quotes from the study capture the essence of these altars: "We clasp the hands of those who go before us," said Wendell Berry; and Alice Walker noted that "And so our mothers and grandmothers have, more often than not anonymously, handed on the creative spark, the seed of the flower they themselves never hoped to see—or like a sealed letter they could not plainly read." The short but lively course was grounded in both the contemporary observance of All Saints Day in the Western Christian calendar as well as the ancient Celtic feast of Samhain, "which marks the beginning of the dark half of the year in the northern hemisphere and is a festival of the final harvest and remembering the dead." (For more information:https://abbeyofthearts.com/programs/self-study-online-classes/honoring-saints-and-ancestors-online-retreat-for-the-season-of-remembrance/)

Last year was filled with changes for me and upon looking backwards I was clearly in a sorting out mode: I tossed most of my sermon notes from 40 years, shed close to 1,500 books, went through all my files and pictures, too and kept only a plastic vat's worth of the past. We visited Tucson in the winter, started to work on our garden the way we've always wanted it, celebrated the wedding of two of my oldest friends, went to worship with the crew in Brooklyn, played a ton of new music, and slowed life down to a contemplative pace. Which is to say, I never got around to building that family altar. 

But this year felt right - and I now have the foundation up. Facing me are pictures and art that shapes my daily prayers: it is a wall of living contemplation. Behind me is now an altar to the beloved departed who continue to touch and shape my life. I still need to find a few more pictures of those who have joined that great cloud of witnesses and will continue the quest tonight. To date I have added: my mother's sisters, both sets of grandparents, my sisters Linda and Beth, Ray and Jane Swartzback (with whom I did my urban internship in NYC), Sam Fogal (pastor of my home congregation and life friend), Michael Daniels (who introduced me to AA through his own journey to sobriety), the grave of civil rights workers Goodman, Schwerner and Channey in Philadelphia, MS, my Aunt Donna, Fred Rogers, the construction workers at Ground Zero, some of the holy ground from Chimayo, NM, my United Farm Workers jacket patch and our old dog Casey.

I have long cherished that passage from the New Testament book of Hebrews that begins in chapter 11 and closes with these words from chapter 12:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

Clarence Jordan, who always pushed for clarity in his explication of scripture, renders this passage on"faith" as the turning of dreams into deeds. Faith is the assurance - the promise and reality - of all we have hoped for in Christ: new life within, hope, compassion and justice in this world, and intimacy with God in the world to come. As I hold my sisters and brothers in the community of L'Arche Ottawa up in prayer this week as they move through their pilgrimage of trust at Taize, I was grateful to come across this commentary from Taize concerning our "great cloud of witnesses."

The “great cloud of witnesses” that surrounds us are people from every age whose lives were determined by their faith in God. The author of the Letter to the Hebrews compares them to sports fans in the stands of a stadium. They have already finished their race. But they do not lose interest in those who are still struggling and running. They urge them on and applaud them. That is how witnesses support our faith. But however encouraging the presence of these witnesses is, we are not called to look at them but at “Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.” Jesus himself agreed to run a difficult race, to keep going in suffering and in shame. He agreed to be himself a simple witness and not a judge. (http://www.taize.fr/en_article167.html?date=2013-07-01)

Today, all around me, the hills are alive with vibrant hues of yellow. The fire bush in our yard celebrates the holy with arms of red as it moves into a time of quiet winter contemplation. The warm autumn air is also a reminder that soon this too shall pass. How did the Blessed Virgin Mary put it: My spirit rejoices in God my savior? I am surrounded by a GREAT cloud of witnesses.