May Their Memory Be for Blessing
Scripture: Matthew 5:1-10
Preacher: Rev. Beth Neel
Sermon
When Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg died, you might have seen this phrase posted in the media somewhere: “May her memory be for blessing.” She was Jewish, of course, and Jewish tradition doesn’t focus very much on what happens after we die. So we say, “May this person’s memory be for blessing.” People also noted that Justice Ginsburg died on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and in Jewish tradition it is said that a person who dies on Rosh Hashanah is a good and righteous person. Many have found that to be true about this tiny, powerful woman.
I read a wonderful article on what this means more specifically, by a writer named Molly Conway, and on this All Saints’ Day, I’d like to share some of it with you as we remember those beloved to us who have died.
Molly Conway writes this. Righteousness “… is to be viewed as a balancing of the scales, an active working towards justice. To use a simple example, one should donate to the local food bank not to gain favor with God, or to be nice to those with less than ourselves, but because it is unjust for anyone to be without food, especially while others have plenty. Correcting injustice, balancing the scales, evaluating the distribution of power and creating equity is… the work of righteousness.
“When we say that Ruth Bader Ginsburg was a [righteous woman]… we don’t just mean she was a nice person. What we’re saying is that she was a thoughtful person who worked tirelessly to create a more just world. One that would perpetuate equality and access, one that wasn’t reliant on charity, one that was better for people she did not know, without the expectation of praise or fame.
And “[w]hen we say ‘may her memory be for blessing’ the blessing we speak of is not ‘may we remember her fondly’ or ‘may her memory be a blessing to us’; the blessing implied is this: May you be like Ruth. Jewish thought teaches us that when a person dies, it is up to those who bear her memory to keep her goodness alive. We do this by remembering her, we do this by speaking her name, we do this by carrying on her legacy. We do this by continuing to pursue justice, righteousness, sustainability.
“So when you hear us say ‘May her memory be for blessing’ don’t hear ‘It’s nice to remember her’—hear ‘It’s up to us to carry on her legacy.’ When you hear us say, ‘She was a [righteous woman]’ don’t hear ‘She was a nice person’– hear ‘She was a worker of justice.’”
(https://www.facebook.com/molly.conway.9/posts/10215219636682935)
Ever since I first read Ms. Conway’s words, I’ve thought about how I and how we might carry on the legacy of those who have died. How do we continue to bring color and delight like Jeanne D’Archer did? How do we carry on the legacy of Dick Hensley’s innate decency? How do we continue Leslie Wykoff’s quiet, gentle wisdom? Joe Sullivan’s persistence and resilience? Gwen Harper’s dedication?
It has been a hard year, and it has been a hard year to lose someone we love. We cannot grieve properly, we cannot say goodbye the way we would like, the way that is healing. Our grief sits there like a puddle, never absorbed by the good earth.
And it has been seven months of awful deaths. Over 1,000,000 people worldwide have died from COVID-19; over 230,000 in the U.S. and almost 700 in Oregon. This pandemic has forever changed the way we live and the way we die. There is no righteousness in it; if there are any saving graces, they are few and far between.
The deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, and too many other people of color have awakened us once again to the sin of our racism. Who celebrates these lives when they ended so tragically? What does it mean to carry on the legacy that these people worked for? What righteousness can come from their deaths?
What are we to do on this All Saints’ Day, a day that is usually a poignant celebration, but this year is marked by deaths without memorials, and the original sin of racism, and the almost unbearable stress of a presidential election?
We do what we always do: we remember the saints. We celebrate their lives and their legacy. We carry on the good that they did. We do not judge them by their worst day. We grieve and lament their loss. We pray that they are now with God.
Because we have been blessed by the presence of these saints, those we will name today and those whose memory rests forever in our hearts. One person can change the world because the example of one person’s life can change us—make us want to do something that matters, make us want to behave more kindly, make us want to trust God more.
You, too, are saints, you know. You are. You are the living saints, the people of God here and now, doing the work of righteousness, promoting justice and peace, extending mercy and love.
I thank you for that. May your living be for blessing, too.
To the glory of God.