Christopher Senyonjo was a bishop in the Anglican Church of Uganda.

He had taught at their theological college.

He was part of the team that translated the Bible into modern Lugandan language.

After his retirement, in nineteen ninety-eight, he opened a counselling practice…

where he welcomed a number of gay and lesbian Ugandans as clients…

and sought to support them in the struggles they faced.

Word spread within that community about his welcome and acceptance…

to the point where he was seeing up to ten clients a day.

In two thousand and one, he founded “Integrity Uganda” to offer support and ministry to the LGBT community…

establishing a safe space where they could meet…

and providing housing and employment for those who experienced persecution upon coming out.

But the Church of Uganda insisted that he condemn homosexuality… 

and tell LGBT people they needed to convert to Christianity.

He refused.

So the Archbishop of Uganda revoked his clerical privileges…

barred him from conducting services…

cancelled his pension from the church…

and he began to receive harassment and death threats.

But that didn’t deter him.

In two thousand and ten, he founded the St Paul’s Reconciliation and Equality Centre…

which provides healthcare…

counseling and pastoral care…

women’s empowerment and education…

human rights advocacy…

and micro-loans for entrepreneurial development.

He survives, now, with support from his ten children…

and gifts from friends.

 

This morning’s reading from the Book of Revelation presents a symbolic vision—

a vision of a vast multitude of people of every nation and race…

standing before the throne of God…

robed in white and singing their praises.

And, we’re told:

“These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb”.

Despite how that might seem at first glance, it’s not referring to martyrs—

at least, not in the “classical sense”—

certainly not at the time that the Book of Revelation was written.

Indeed, it would be a number of decades before Christians were systematically put to death for their faith. 

As always with the Book of Revelation, the imagery of the visions is complex.

The “great ordeal”, here, probably refers to some specific time of testing—

although it’s laced with a certain degree of hyperbole—

while being robed in white symbolises, simply, that they have been faithful witnesses.

In the context of the time when it was written… 

that means that they had endured some sort of pressure…

some sort of oppression…

some sort of suffering…

but they hadn’t given in.

In particular, they had resisted the power and ideology of Rome—

especially its totalitarian claims;

and its demand for absolute, unwavering allegiance.

They had refused to accommodate to Roman social and religious practices;

they had refused to bow down to the Emperor;

they had resisted the pressure to conform to their society’s and their culture’s values—

insofar as those values clashed with what they understood to be God’s values and God’s intention for creation.

So, according to this vision, saints are not those who confess orthodox belief.

Saints are not those whose religious practices are “orthodox”.

Rather, saints are those who follow in the footsteps of Jesus—

who follow in the way of the cross…

in the way of self-giving and self-sacrifice.

According to this vision, saints are those who are willing to suffer— 

as Jesus did—

for daring to speak truth to power.

People like Dietrich Bonhoeffer…

Martin Luther King jr…

Rosa Parks…

Oscar Romero…

Desmond Tutu…

or Christopher Senyonjo.

 

Both preceding this vision of John’s…

and following it… 

they are other visions—

visions of chaos and destruction…

of famines, plagues, and natural disasters…

of wars…

and of economic and political oppression.

Within this vision, however, there is a remarkable promise…

made to those who similarly resist and endure, and who bear faithful witness—

that “they will hunger no more, and thirst no more…

and God will wipe every tear from their eyes”.

Through this vision, the author is trying to offer a sense of hope…

to a world seemingly consumed with violence and injustice…

and where evil seems to triumph…

and good people do, indeed, suffer.

The author is trying to reassure them that if they endure…

if they resist…

then they will be vindicated because God is ultimately in control—

not the powers of this world— 

and God will have the last say.

 

Now that sort of image of God made sense within the world-view of the first century—

a world where some sort of divine being was responsible for any exercise of power;

a world that lacked a sense of impersonal causality;

a world where nothing “just happened”…

but someone, usually a divine being, was ultimately responsible for everything.

And that sort of image of God would have been very attractive—

under those circumstances—

to those who were suffering.

Ultimately, however, it’s an image of God that ought to be very unsatisfying for us…

in the light of our more sophisticated understanding of the world and the laws of nature.

And it’s an image that’s potentially dangerous.

After all, it’s the sort of image that seems to feed so much terrorist ideology.

Perhaps, more helpfully… 

the image that we have here of Jesus is of the Lamb who was slaughtered…

of the one who gave his life—

not in violent retaliation or retribution…

but in faith and faithfulness.

It’s the image of the one who gave his life sacrificially—

not as some act of appeasement…

but simply in doing what was right…

in trying to make a difference…

and, in the very act of doing so, precipitating change.

In that context, the vindication of the faithful…

is the vindication of those who follow in the way of the cross…

because, in their willingness to take a stand…

in their willingness to suffer…

in their willingness to ‘speak truth to power’…

not only do they emulate the example of Jesus…

but they, too, precipitate change…

and provide an example for us all to follow.

 

And that, ultimately, is the point of “All Saints”.

It’s a time to remember all those who—

through their faith and faithfulness…

through their hopes and dreams…

through their courage and endurance—

have sought to make this a better world…

have brought it one step closer to the world as God would have it be.

‘All Saints’ is a time to remember those who have been an example to us…

who have confronted and challenged us…

who have inspired us…

who have pointed us ever more clearly and closely to the purposes of God—

revealed and made manifest in Jesus Christ.

And our remembrance of ‘All Saints’ is an encouragement to each one of us—

to learn from their example…

and, similarly, to strive to be that sort of saint for others.