Last week in the church year we observed the “feast days” (special celebration days—no feasting involved, unfortunately) of All Saints and All Souls. On All Saints, we remember and celebrate the lives of the saints, and on All Souls, we remember and celebrate the lives of those we love who have died.
In my tradition, the Episcopal Church, we’re a little more cagey about what exactly we mean by a “saint”. Yes, this indicates people who have been canonized by the church, like Saint Paul the Apostle or Saint Macrina, the Cappadocian church mother. But we also believe that saints are any faithful Christian who shares in the life of Christ. There’s a sweet English hymn that says it this way: “They lived not only in ages past; there are hundreds of thousands still; the world is bright with the joyous saints who love to do Jesus’ will. You can meet them in school, or in lanes, or at sea, in church, or in trains, or in shops, or at tea; for the saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too."
For the celebration of All Saints and All Souls, in addition to our usual liturgy of singing and scripture readings, prayer, sermon, and Holy Communion, we add a reading of all the names of those who have died in our congregation. As we say the names, we’re invited to remember their lives and all the ways that they showed us God’s love. They are our saints. And we also might reflect through study or worship on the lives of the big-S saints, the more ancient or official witnesses to God whom we’ve never met. They are our saints, too. In all these remembrances, looking to these beloved people of faith, we don’t only love and honor their memory, but also ask ourselves what they have to teach us about a faithful, love-centered and God-honoring life.
The late author Frederick Buechner described these folks as people “who are made not out of plaster and platitude and moral perfection but out of human flesh... who have their rough edges...like everybody else but whose lives are transparent to something so extraordinary that every so often it stops us dead in our tracks. Light-bearers. Life-bearers.”
It is especially tender each year to read the names of those members of our church who have died since the previous year’s feasts. This year we added Frank, who showed holy humor and a deep care for God’s creation; Nelson, who revealed the immense curiosity and holy wonder of learning; Tim, who taught us the love of the game and how to show up for each other; Judi, who radiated God’s love to children and all of us; Frances, who created beauty and welcome every day; Cecilia, lover and teller of a great story; and Bitsy, who gathered people around tables of food and dreams of community.
Of course, there is so much more to a life, countless stories and connections, struggles and questions in each person. Each of these saints, and all the others we have known and loved, these saints with rough edges, bore the light and life of God in this world. They showed us a glimpse of something holy, and taught us a bit more of how to walk in love. That’s something to remember. That’s something to celebrate.