Isaiah 25:6-9, Psalm 24, Revelation 21:1-6a, John 11:32-44
When you have had a year of death, coming around to the readings for All Saints is like another punch in the face. Because chances are, the last time you heard these scriptures was at a funeral. And while they are supposed to be there to give comfort, that those we love are not separate from us forever, it's a reminder that they're gone now. And that's hard. The reading from John, while often cited as “see, Jesus raises people from the dead!”, when it is in this context, makes my inner 5 yr old want to ask, “but why didn't He do that for Grandma?”
This is supposed to be full of joy, and I just can't get there. I get the concepts of the great feast and the holy city and the coming of God to dwell with His people. And these are good things, things to be celebrated, to be greeted with loud hosannas and songs of praise. Knowing my grandmas, one has baked a pie and the other cooked some asparagus for that feast, because it's not right to just show up without bringing something! Their certainty is my certainty, that we will see each other again in a day to come. I hold to that, in the darkness, that there will come a day when death itself is no more, and all our tears wiped away.
Doesn't mean I don't miss my grandma.