We have a liturgically dense service today, as we celebrate All Saints Day and Remembrance Sunday.
Now, when we think of our Saints, our vocabulary doesn’t really seem to help us.
Because it seems to limit and segregate…
The feasts this week in the church recognise 3 facets: All Hallow’s Even – hallowing meaning holy – therefor the feast of those who have been made holy. (Not the feast of costumes and candy).
The Feast of All Saints on the first honours the formalised saints of the church: those whose accomplishments are acknowledged by the church as being significant in the life and mission of the church universal.
And the feast of All Souls on the second – that honours the souls of those whom we love but see no more - the normal folks in our lives who have gone to their rest.
Notice a theme? It’s those who have gone before.
And this is not a theme that we often like to think about: death.
Yet for those of us with faith, we recognise this is a chance to lean in to the promises that Jesus has given us: that death is not the end, but the next stage of our journey. The beginning of eternal life, in fact.
This can be a comforting reality when we consider our other commemoration today: those who have gone before us in times of conflict. We remember those who have served; those who continue to serve, those who have supported their selfless actions.
And we do some from a paradoxical perspective: for in remembering and respecting those who fight in our armed forces, we simultaneously pray for peace.
And in all thing, when we consider those who have died, we recognise that we focus not on their individual actions, but their hearts: their emotions, their connections. What they meant to us. Their personalities and convictions.
Their uniqueness as individuals in the family of God.
The very things that we remember them for.
And this is where we see the connection with the church calendar and our secular calendar and the scriptures:
In the first letter of John we are all called beloved, and assured that we are God’s children now. We: not just the folks who are here today, not just the first recipients of the letter, but all who come to God.
In the Gospel, Jesus assures us of blessings for every aspect of life: in times of distress, of need, of pain, of exclusion. And Jesus is speaking to the outcasts, the marginalised, the folks who are feeling unblessed. Jesus honours them with the blessing of peace, and inclusion, and love.
In Revelation, which is an intimidating book for many – we understand our shared place in the kingdom of God. For we are told of the great multitude of every language race and nation, who assemble together. And they have all come out of ordeal, and receive all that satisfies their needs with love and grace from the throne of God.
In the Prayer of Remembrance from the Legion, we thank God “for those valiant hearts, who at the call of Sovereign and country laid down their lives in the cause of freedom.” And invite God to unite us all in the Kingdom of the Prince of Peace.
Again: there’s a theme: we are remembering those who died.
It can be sad to do this: for these are people who influenced our lives, who shared love with us, who helped us to better understand God.
And it can be edifying, soul-filling, to remember them: as these are people who influenced our lives, who shared love with us, who helped us to better understand God.
There’s a spiritual coach named Laura Stevens-Reed - she has offered a prayerful focus to consider our dead: taking a different theme each day for the month of November: someone who let us ask questions, someone who advocated for us, someone who mentored us professionally: there are thirty of them. It’s a wonderful exercise.
Because it invites the act of remembrance to go beyond titles, beyond accomplishments, beyond earthly barriers:
Into the best of the people we have walked this earth with.
For these are the saints.
These are the souls.
These are the ones made holy as they seek closer relationship with God.
These are the peacemakers, who serve in unmentionable ways for the sake of peace.
We have been formed by the gifts of those who have gone before: in ways that far exceed our memories or comprehension.
And so, actions like remembering those who have died also invites us to consider our actions with the people who are still among us; in ways that we can build stronger and more faith-ful relationships with them.
For the saints walk among us: the holy ones are here.
The early church recognised sainthood not by formal processes and examinations, but by actions: those who lived the Gospel to the best of their ability were honoured as saints. Those who loved, who prayed, who fed the hungry, who tended the sick. Those who taught the Good news of God primarily by their actions, and secondarily by word: these folks were the saints of the day.
So we can choose to seek out the saints in our life: the people advocating for cessation of hostilities in the 43 active armed conflicts around the world. The people extending comfort to the heart-broken. The people praying for those experiencing need. The people who treat everyone they meet with dignity. The ones who are a voice for the voiceless. The ones who continue to wear the uniform, and the communities that support them.
The saints are among us: These are the normal people, who do extraordinary things because of love. They are witnessed by God, and sometimes – when we look through the lens of love and grace – we witness them too.
And furthermore, the actions of prayerful, intentional remembrance: like we are doing today – these inspire us to be the best that we can be, in the world as we see it today: acting for the future out of the gratitude that we have for what we have been given.
For we now wear the privilege and responsibility of living this life so that our loved ones will see the best in us, and want to remember us when we are gone.
We are the bearers of history, of memory, of skill: we have the chance before us to love the world, to care for each other, to celebrate the glimpses of the Kingdom that are present here and now.
So we give thanks for those who have gone before.
We give thanks who continue to be with us.
We give thanks for those who will come after us, trusting they will remember us for our good works.
So as we remember:
May we continue to receive the comfort of Christ in this life, confident that when we join our beloved in the great cloud of witnesses in the next life, Jesus will become Our shepherd, and guide US to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from Our eyes.
Now, when we think of our Saints, our vocabulary doesn’t really seem to help us.
Because it seems to limit and segregate…
The feasts this week in the church recognise 3 facets: All Hallow’s Even – hallowing meaning holy – therefor the feast of those who have been made holy. (Not the feast of costumes and candy).
The Feast of All Saints on the first honours the formalised saints of the church: those whose accomplishments are acknowledged by the church as being significant in the life and mission of the church universal.
And the feast of All Souls on the second – that honours the souls of those whom we love but see no more - the normal folks in our lives who have gone to their rest.
Notice a theme? It’s those who have gone before.
And this is not a theme that we often like to think about: death.
Yet for those of us with faith, we recognise this is a chance to lean in to the promises that Jesus has given us: that death is not the end, but the next stage of our journey. The beginning of eternal life, in fact.
This can be a comforting reality when we consider our other commemoration today: those who have gone before us in times of conflict. We remember those who have served; those who continue to serve, those who have supported their selfless actions.
And we do some from a paradoxical perspective: for in remembering and respecting those who fight in our armed forces, we simultaneously pray for peace.
And in all thing, when we consider those who have died, we recognise that we focus not on their individual actions, but their hearts: their emotions, their connections. What they meant to us. Their personalities and convictions.
Their uniqueness as individuals in the family of God.
The very things that we remember them for.
And this is where we see the connection with the church calendar and our secular calendar and the scriptures:
In the first letter of John we are all called beloved, and assured that we are God’s children now. We: not just the folks who are here today, not just the first recipients of the letter, but all who come to God.
In the Gospel, Jesus assures us of blessings for every aspect of life: in times of distress, of need, of pain, of exclusion. And Jesus is speaking to the outcasts, the marginalised, the folks who are feeling unblessed. Jesus honours them with the blessing of peace, and inclusion, and love.
In Revelation, which is an intimidating book for many – we understand our shared place in the kingdom of God. For we are told of the great multitude of every language race and nation, who assemble together. And they have all come out of ordeal, and receive all that satisfies their needs with love and grace from the throne of God.
In the Prayer of Remembrance from the Legion, we thank God “for those valiant hearts, who at the call of Sovereign and country laid down their lives in the cause of freedom.” And invite God to unite us all in the Kingdom of the Prince of Peace.
Again: there’s a theme: we are remembering those who died.
It can be sad to do this: for these are people who influenced our lives, who shared love with us, who helped us to better understand God.
And it can be edifying, soul-filling, to remember them: as these are people who influenced our lives, who shared love with us, who helped us to better understand God.
There’s a spiritual coach named Laura Stevens-Reed - she has offered a prayerful focus to consider our dead: taking a different theme each day for the month of November: someone who let us ask questions, someone who advocated for us, someone who mentored us professionally: there are thirty of them. It’s a wonderful exercise.
Because it invites the act of remembrance to go beyond titles, beyond accomplishments, beyond earthly barriers:
Into the best of the people we have walked this earth with.
For these are the saints.
These are the souls.
These are the ones made holy as they seek closer relationship with God.
These are the peacemakers, who serve in unmentionable ways for the sake of peace.
We have been formed by the gifts of those who have gone before: in ways that far exceed our memories or comprehension.
And so, actions like remembering those who have died also invites us to consider our actions with the people who are still among us; in ways that we can build stronger and more faith-ful relationships with them.
For the saints walk among us: the holy ones are here.
The early church recognised sainthood not by formal processes and examinations, but by actions: those who lived the Gospel to the best of their ability were honoured as saints. Those who loved, who prayed, who fed the hungry, who tended the sick. Those who taught the Good news of God primarily by their actions, and secondarily by word: these folks were the saints of the day.
So we can choose to seek out the saints in our life: the people advocating for cessation of hostilities in the 43 active armed conflicts around the world. The people extending comfort to the heart-broken. The people praying for those experiencing need. The people who treat everyone they meet with dignity. The ones who are a voice for the voiceless. The ones who continue to wear the uniform, and the communities that support them.
The saints are among us: These are the normal people, who do extraordinary things because of love. They are witnessed by God, and sometimes – when we look through the lens of love and grace – we witness them too.
And furthermore, the actions of prayerful, intentional remembrance: like we are doing today – these inspire us to be the best that we can be, in the world as we see it today: acting for the future out of the gratitude that we have for what we have been given.
For we now wear the privilege and responsibility of living this life so that our loved ones will see the best in us, and want to remember us when we are gone.
We are the bearers of history, of memory, of skill: we have the chance before us to love the world, to care for each other, to celebrate the glimpses of the Kingdom that are present here and now.
So we give thanks for those who have gone before.
We give thanks who continue to be with us.
We give thanks for those who will come after us, trusting they will remember us for our good works.
So as we remember:
May we continue to receive the comfort of Christ in this life, confident that when we join our beloved in the great cloud of witnesses in the next life, Jesus will become Our shepherd, and guide US to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from Our eyes.
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