All Saints and All Souls

Isaiah 25:6-9          Psalm 24            Revelation 21:1-6a           John 11:32-44

(Today we celebrate All Saints Day and remember All Souls; the souls of those we have loved and lost and who are now counted among the saints in light).

For someone who was brought up conservatively Baptist, I have a surprising devotion to the saints. I love the big hitters, particularly blessed Mary and Mary Magdalene, but they are merely the beginning of my saintly interest. When the Church went online for those long months of COVID our dispersed virtual congregation accidentally formed a new worshipping community under the watchful eyes of Ss Isidore and Carlo; the patron saints of the computer, and the internet. And this week I discovered the delight that is St Drogo – the patron of coffee, insanity and unattractive people and uncovered the irony that it’s St Gemma who’s the saint of all things back pain related. Who knew?!

And while we might petition St Anthony when we lose something, I am more interested today in the quieter, less famous, more under-stated saints that are around us, both living and departed, every day – because today is ALL Saint’s day, not SOME saints day.

Today we pause, breathe deeply, and seek comfort in the assurances of our Old Testament reading, that tells us there are those now feasting with the Lord at a lavish banquet. We hold tight to the promise that death will be swallowed up forever; there will be no more tears, no disgrace, no more waiting – just rejoicing and gladness.

Today we wait, together, for the day when we and our loved ones will be reunited, with God, in the new heaven and the new earth; where God will fully dwell with all humanity – our tears will be wiped away, mourning and pain will be no more, and all things will be made new.

Today we collectively gather at the universal tomb of death as we eagerly wait for Jesus to come and weep with us, take away the stone, and call life to ‘come out’ again.

We gather in this liminal space where we know death and grief – where, for some, this is the first All Saints Day where our favourite human saint is at the eternal banquet instead of eating with us – we gather here where our memories of our loved ones cause anxiety because we can no longer remember what their voice sounds like, we can no longer hear their laugh or smell their scent. And we gather here, taking our place in the line of the Saints – holding the baton that is ours to run with at this time, until it is time to hand it over.

And as we gather to honour those who have allowed the light of Christ to stream through them and warm our own faces, so we recognise that we each have a role in allowing ourselves to be used as saints – light bearers – on the journey of life for another.

You see, we are all saints. We are all forgiven, redeemed, made holy, given grace. There are those who came before us – great champions of the faith, stretching right back to the dawn of time – and there are undoubtedly those who will come after us. And here we are, right now, with our own part to play, trying to spot the saintliness in one another. Sometimes our light is tarnished, sometimes it is easier to spot. Sometimes we mar the image of the creator as it seeks to stream out of us. Sometimes we look at another and it is like we look directly into the face of Christ.

Last year I told you my favourite All Saints story, about the little girl wandering through a church, looking at the imagery of saints in the stained-glass window, before saying to her mummy, ‘now I understand! A saint is the one the light shines through’. Absolutely.

A saint is the one the light shines through. And one of the reasons we miss those who have gone before us is because the light that shone through them was fascinating and beautiful and life-giving and beguiling. Our call, as baptised children of God is to be that light for others or, as our gospel reading puts it, to follow Jesus’ invitation and command to be – like Lazarus – unbound, so the light might stream out of us, unhindered, undistorted, too.

We have a lifetime to do this, a lifetime to make an impact, and forever to be missed – like those we remember today. We grow into saints throughout our earthly lives, every day, ready to receive the crown when we reach the eternal banquet. And this is a lot to take in – a lot to process.

Today, we allow ourselves the time in this sacred place to recall the souls of all the saints; living and departed. We allow ourselves the capacity to be surprised by feelings that come unexpectedly to the surface and we sit with them, hold them, maybe light a candle for them and allow them to float upwards and outwards towards God.

We take a pause to allow the Christ to do that next bit of work in unbinding us, so that God’s Light might beam more brightly through us and, as God does God’s gentle work of grace in all these feelings, we simply breathe, say yes, and allow it to happen. So let us pray…