Test Driving Theology

Jerry Buegler.  Elmer Buegler.  Gertrude Buegler.  Grace Moody.  Elliott Moody.  Lyle Tjosaas.  Carol Tjosaas.  Phillip Moody.  Charles Moody.  Jim Campbell.  Kimberly Devine-Johnson.  Tom Hunstad.  Matthias Meester.  Robert Roubik.  

These are my names.  The names of people, precious to me, who over the years I have lost.  These are my names.

You have your names.  Your own list of people that you have known and loved, and who have died in faith.  When you think of their names, you can’t help but see their faces.  You can’t help…but remember.

Today is All Saints Day. It is one of the most beautiful and most emotional days of the church year. It’s a day when we remember the people who have gone before us, those who have shaped us. It’s a day of memory, gratitude and hope.  It is also a day of tears.

We gather today with names, with photographs out on the tree in the narthex, with candles, and with stories. We gather with both grief and hope held together in the same hands. Because that is what it means to be human, and what it means to be a person of faith: to live between what has been lost and what is promised.

In our Gospel reading today, Jesus says: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.”

In other words, Jesus speaks directly to people who have experienced loss, and who are hurting. People like us. He looks into the eyes of those who are carrying loss, fear, and grief, and he says, “You are blessed.”

It’s important to remember that grief is not limited to the loss of loved ones.  There are many kinds of loss that bring us pain:  Jobs…relationships…opportunities… possibilities…hope… 

Whatever your loss, today Jesus looks you in the eye and says, “You are blessed.”  You are blessed.

Not because loss is good. Not because grief is easy. But because in the middle of it all, God is present.

Our Gospel reading today, called the Beatitudes, is not simply a set of sentimental sayings about how to be happy. They are words of promise for people who are struggling to hold on. They are words of assurance that the pain we feel does not have the final word.

When Jesus says, “Blessed are you who weep,” he’s not glorifying sorrow. He’s naming reality. He’s saying that God sees your tears. God honors them. God collects them, even. And God promises that joy is coming again.

On this All Saints Day, we stand in that sacred space between grief and hope. We remember the people we have loved. Some losses may be fresh, and the pain still sharp. Others may be years or decades past, but their memory still catches us by surprise.

Grief is not something to be rushed through or “gotten over.” It is a reflection of love. We grieve because we loved so deeply. Grief is the shadow side of love, but it is also its companion. The deeper the love, the deeper the ache when it is gone.

But God meets you in that ache. The cross and the resurrection remind you that even in death, God is not distant. The very heart of our faith is that Jesus entered into human pain fully…he wept at the tomb of his friend Lazarus…and then Jesus broke the power of death when he walked out of the tomb.

That is what gives meaning to All Saints Day. We don’t gather only to look backward. We gather to look forward, and to remember that resurrection is real, and that the story is not over.

Paul’s words in his letter to the Ephesians carry that same hope. He writes, “In Christ we have obtained an inheritance.” That word, inheritance, is a beautiful word. It means that something lasting, something important, has been entrusted to us. It’s not something we’ve earned. It’s something we’ve been given…something undeserved.

The saints we remember today have passed their inheritance to us, not in money or property, but in faith, love, kindness, and courage. They have handed down the light of Christ, generation to generation, person to person.

It was my parents who brought my brothers and I to church…who gathered us before bed to read from a devotion book and to have a prayer.  It was my grandparents who took us to church when we were visiting them on the farm…who pressed a quarter into my palm, so I could put it in the offering plate, and learn about the connection between our faith and our actions.

Think for a moment about those who handed faith to you. Maybe it was a parent or a grandparent who taught you a prayer. Maybe it was a Sunday school teacher, a camp counselor, a friend who invited you to church, or a pastor who walked with you through a hard season.

Those are the saints of your life. Ordinary people who lived their faith in extraordinary ways. People who, sometimes quietly and sometimes boldly, reflected the love of Jesus in the world.

Paul goes on to say that “the eyes of our hearts might be enlightened, so that we may know the hope to which God has called us.” That is what All Saints is about: opening our eyes again…to hope.

The resurrection does not erase our grief, but it transforms it. It changes the way we see death. It gives us courage to say, “This is not the end.”

When Jesus said, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,” he was describing the kind of life that grows out of resurrection hope. When you believe that death has been defeated, you can live differently. You can love more boldly, forgive more freely, and risk more generously.

The saints we remember today are not just people of the past. Now, they are one with the holy, and they remain deeply connected to us.  They are part of the ongoing story of God’s love that continues through us. 

When we gather here at the altar…at the communion table, in a very real sense, we gather with all the saints.  And in that moment, heaven and earth touch. The communion table stretches beyond time and place. The people we love, whose names and faces we remember today, are part of that same meal. They are in the presence of God, and when we receive the bread and the wine, in that instant, we are united with them in Christ.

All Saints Day is not just about those who have died. It’s also a reminder of who we are called to be now. Every one of us is a saint, not because we are perfect, but because we belong to God.

The saints we remember today did not live flawless lives. But they lived faithful ones. And now, the call passes to us. We are the saints of today.  We are the ones called to carry the light forward into our families, our neighborhoods, our workplaces, our schools, and our communities. 

Today, we have photos…we have candles…we have names…we have memories.  Each of these represents a life…a person…a love that has shaped us. Each name, each candle and every face also represents the light of Christ that no darkness can overcome.  

Today we remember that their light still shines. The flame of their love continues to warm and guide us. And the same Christ who held them in life now holds them in eternity.

Sometimes it can feel like the world is getting darker. But the truth of All Saints Day is that the light still spreads. One flame becomes two. Two become ten. Ten become a thousand.

The light that began with Christ has never gone out. It has moved from one heart to another, from one generation to the next, all the way to this very moment in this very place.

Paul’s letter to the Ephesians ends with this vision of Christ as the one who fulfills all of God’s promises. It’s an image of completeness, of wholeness. It’s a promise that one day, all things will be made new.  All things will be made new.

That is where our hope rests. Not just in memory, but in promise. Not just in the past, but in the future that God is already creating.

The saints we remember today are already part of that future. They are already held in that wholeness. And one day, we will join them.

Until then, we live in faith. We live as people of hope. We live as those who still believe that love is stronger than hate, that forgiveness is greater than bitterness, and that life has the final word.

So today, as we remember, and as we speak the names of those we love, let’s hold both grief and gratitude. Let’s honor their memory by living as they taught us to live: with courage, with compassion, with faith.

Let’s keep walking forward, not alone, but surrounded by that great cloud of witnesses. Because they are with us. Christ is with us. And the light still shines.  The light still shines.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit. 

Amen.