In 1951 the Rev. Alvin E. Magary, pastor of the Lafayette Avenue Presbyterian Church in Brooklyn, New York, published a book with the title Saints Without Halos. In it are essays in which Magary looks at New Testament figures from a very human point-of-view. He resists the idea of putting these persons on a pedestal and looking at them with rose-colored glasses. He tries to look at them as human beings with flaws that we prefer not to see. HIs point is clear: in many ways they are no different than we are – persons who deal with everyday doubts, uncertainties, fears, anxieties whom God encounters and through whom God works.
As we approach All Saints Day (November 1) it occurs to me that we can look at persons in our lives who have struggled with life and with the faith and who would never consider themselves saints, and yet who persevered in seeking to respond to Christ’s call to discipleship. Here a few examples. From my experience there are many, many more, and I’m sure you know of many yourselves.
Malcolm McRae was a confirmed bachelor who worked for the American Red Cross and was a faithful member of and an elder in a Presbyterian church in central Texas for many years. He cared for his mother who lived with him. In the quiet and humble way he went about his work and his life he reflected a quiet confidence in the faith which guided him. He would not think of himself as anyone special, and yet in his own quiet, dependable way he exhibited the winsome faithfulness of a disciple of Jesus Christ.
A member of First Presbyterian Church in Monticello, Arkansas, Lamar Williamson served as clerk of session of that church for 41 years. In his book …And a Time to Laugh, Jerry Tompkins records excerpts from the session minutes that reflect Williamson’s iconoclastic humor. What a gift that refreshing sense of humor must have been both to the session and to any presbyter who was charged with examining those session records!
Ray and Sue Schneider were Presbyterians from Michigan. Ray worked as an executive for Shell Oil Company. After their children were grown Sue went back to school to earn a Master’s degree in art history. Both were active in the Westminster Presbyterian Church in Houston until their deaths. Quiet and unassuming, Ray served on the Property Committee, faithfully serving on the mowing team and could be seen riding the church’s lawn mower even in freezing weather. Sue was active in the church’s book group, among other activities. One time after offering a MInute for Mission in morning worship, Sue returned to her seat with, along with her notes, the pastor’s sermon manuscript. When it was discovered, she promptly returned it to a very nervous – and relieved – pastor.
Bill and Mae Bell Boone were an older couple who owned and ran a liquor store in southwest Houston. They said they never joined a church because they thought it might not “look good” for the church. When they were persuaded that it would be perfectly all right for them to join and be a part of Westminster, they were faithful in worship every week, participating where they could. That they were accepted in the life of the church was, no doubt, a reflection on them as well as on the church.
Mary McCue was in a difficult marriage, but she and her husband were determined to stay together. Somehow they made peace with each other. Mary played the piano every Sunday morning for the small Presbyterian congregation in a rural part of east central Missouri. She was soft-spoken and humble. In fact, by looking and listening to her, one would not know that she and her sister came from one of the wealthiest families in the county. While an elder in the church, she never forced her views on anyone, and yet when the church was in a financial crunch, very quietly she made up the difference. She was a class act.
None of these persons will make the history books. Yet I contend that all are saints – with or without halos. And there are many, many more, and I suspect that in this part of God’s kingdom you yourselves can think of many – those quiet, unassuming, humble folks who taught Sunday school or played the piano or organ or who served as ushers or greeters or served on the session or a committee or who knew just the right word to say in a difficult situation. Saints all of them.
George MacLeod was a Presbyterian minister in the Church of Scotland. In the late 1930s he went to the Isle of Iona off the west coast of Scotland and, with the help of many unemployed laborers, restored the abbey there. Primarily through MacLeod’s efforts it became a retreat center which is still there today and under the jurisdiction of the Church of Scotland.
Below is a prayer MacLeod offered which would be most appropriate for All Saints Day:
Be Thou, triune God, in the midst of us as we give thanks for those who have gone from the sight of earthly eyes. They, in Thy nearer presence, still worship with us in the mystery of the one family in heaven and on earth.
We remember those whom Thou didst call to high office, as the world counts high. They bore the agony of great decisions and laboured to fashion the Ark of the Covenant nearer to Thy design.
We remember those who, little recognised in the sight of men, bore the heat and burden of the unrecorded day. They served serene because they knew Thou hadst made them priests and kings, and now shine as the stars for ever.
If it be Thy holy will, tell them how we love them, and how we miss them, and how we long for the day when we shall meet with them again.
God of all comfort, we lift into Thine immediate care those recently bereaved, who sometimes in the night-time cry ‘would God it were morning’, and in the morning cry ‘would God it were night’. Bereft of their dear ones, too often they are bereft also of the familiar scenes where happiness once reigned.
Lift from their eyes the too distant vision of the resurrection at the last day. Alert them to hear the voice of Jesus saying: ‘I AM Resurrection and I AM Life’: that they may believe this.
Strengthen them to go on in loving service of all Thy children. Thus shall they have communion with Thee and, in Thee, with their beloved. Thus shall they come to know, in themselves, that there is no death and that only a veil divides, thin as gossamer.
The Presbyterian Historical Society of the Southwest encourages everyone to recall and give thanks for all those who have lived lives of faithful discipleship to Jesus Christ, who did so with grace and humility, calling little or no attention to themselves, and who, like John the Baptist said, “He must increase but I must decrease” (John 3:30).
