A sermon preached by the Rev’d Dr Daniel Dries The Commemoration of All Souls Christ Church St Laurence – 2 November 2016 May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight: O Lord, our strength and our Redeemer. Amen. From the 8th Chapter of the Letter of St Paul to the Romans we read: For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Recorded on the walls of the Australian War Memorial in Canberra are the names of ordinary men and women who have given their lives in times of war and conflict. As of today, the names listed in Canberra number one hundred and two thousand, eight hundred and twenty-four. There is something profoundly moving in seeing the names simply recorded in this tragic roll of honour. In many parish churches, though not in this one, there are smaller boards, listing the names of parishioners who made the ultimate sacrifice for their nation. A simple list of names will always make a powerful statement but, of course, attached to every name, there is one absolutely unique story. As we are currently in the centenary of the ironically named ‘Great War’, the Australian War Memorial is attempting to do more than simply list the names of the sixty-two thousand Australians who died in the First World War. Until 11th November 2018, individual names are being projected onto a wall for 30 seconds at a time. This is a significant way of highlighting that the Roll of Honour is about real people, rather than immense lists inscribed on a wall. The War Memorial is also attempting to record the unique stories of those who are honoured there, acknowledging that many of these stories are tragically lost forever. During the Mass on the Commemoration of All Souls, we present our Rolls of Honour—the names of all those whom we love yet see no longer. These Rolls of honour, which will soon be placed on the High Altar are also far more than simple lists of names. Every one of the names recorded also has a unique story attached to it. One of the three books to be presented is the Chantry Book—it contains the names of those whose funerals have been held in this church. Often we have heard something of their unique stories in the eulogies read at funerals. Although, given that this book spans many decades, many of these stories have started to fade. Another of the books presented is the Memorial Book—it contains the names of our own loved ones. The stories attached to each of these names will be known to some of us, but not to others. Contained with its pages, along with lists of names, are infinite stories of joy and sadness, and certainly a great many stories of love. The third book presented is the AIDS Requiem book. The first name recorded in this book is Bobby Goldsmith; one of the first Australians to die of a greatly feared and misunderstood disease. The funeral of Bobby Goldsmith in 1984 was the first AIDS Requiem to be held in this church, at a time when there was great stigma and even refusal to offer a Christian funeral to those who died of this 1|Page
devastating illness. The AIDS Requiem Book contains the names of the AIDS victims whose funerals were held in this church. We can be certain that, along with these names, there are countless stories of pain, rejection and judgement. Devastating stories, so often justified by religious doctrine and practice. As I look through our memorial books, I see names that sadly mean nothing to me; I can’t possible ever know most of the stories. But I can make assumptions about a few of the names, or rather, the lack of names. As I see entries of unnamed babies, I am reminded of a time when stillborn, unbaptised and unnamed children were denied a Christian burial—devastating stories of rejection, justified by sound Christian doctrine. There is one such story in my own extended family and possibly in yours. Stories that bring decades of hurt and heartache. We also know that, until relatively recent times, the same rejection and denial of Christian burial rites was withheld from those who had taken their own life. The church preaches the boundless love of God, and the church wonders why so many have grown tired of its preaching.
In some churches, the names of loved ones are read aloud on the Commemoration of All Souls; perhaps some stories associated with the names are also shared. In this parish, we simply rest our books of remembrance on the altar—acknowledging that these books represent hundreds of individuals and the unique stories that go with them. In a sense, we are telling God what God already knows; we are presenting to God those who are already in God’s loving care. But there is more to it: we are also offering to God our sense of loss, our grief and our hurt. As we recommit our loved ones to God’s loving care, we also acknowledge our consistent failure to reflect the boundless love and compassion of God. The stories contained within these books have resulted in so many people being made to feel unworthy and unlovable. As we present their names and their stories to God, we acknowledge our own faults and limitations, but more importantly, we affirm the words of St Paul: …That neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy and love of God, rest is peace. Amen.
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