Lectionary Readings: Year A – All Saints

Today we celebrate both All Saints day, and All Souls day. Technically, November 1st is All Saints, and All Souls day is November 2nd. All Saints is the day we celebrate those people throughout history that we consider “Holy People”, “Friends of God,” or “Righteous People.” People who seem to have walked up the stairway to heaven and sat down at the feet of God. People the church has looked at, scoured through their history, and decided that they were, in fact, exceptionally holy people, and said, “These people are real heroes of the faith. A wonderful example of what it means to follow God. You should be like them.” But All Saints also celebrates those believers who have died and entered into heaven. It includes all believers. All the Saints in Glory.

All Souls’ Day – November 2nd – on the other hand, is a day of prayer for all the dead. It is a time to pray for those we knew, and to remember their lives. It originally started out as a means of praying for those who may have gotten hung up on their way to heaven. Spending time atoning for some sins that may have lingered on them after they died. It was a time to pray for mercy from God, so that these souls would enter into heaven, and not have to spend time wading through extra atonement. This kind of thought, however, didn’t make it through the Reformation, and now it is now often called “The Commemoration of the Dead.” A day to remember those who have died.

Now, many of the dead probably include people whose lives were exceptional examples of what it means to follow God. People whose lives we look at and say, “I want to be like them.” Saints, if you will. This list inevitably will include doctors, shepherds, soldiers, priests, martyrs, people in schools, trains, shops, people just strolling along the sea, or sitting down for a cup of tea. Essentially, people just like you and me. All Souls’ Day is about all the people who have ever walked this earth, and whose lives have not been scrutinized and canonized just like the big names we always hear about. But whose lives are still precious to God, and to those who love them.

The two services are focused on different things. And yet, they are also focused on the same thing: remembrance of those who came before us. It allows us to remember the heroes of the faith, and also those heroes that are personal just to us. 

One of the big names, the heroes of the faith that most of us recognize, and about whom we probably have heard hundreds of stories, is St. Francis of Assisi. 

Some of the stories we hear about him are just a bit out there. Take, for instance, the story of the mountain town of Gubbio, where a wolf was terrorizing the people in town by eating their livestock and little children. When Francis came to the town, he walked right out into the woods to confront the wolf, and when the wolf attacked him, he made the sign of the cross, which stopped the wolf in its tracks. He then said, “Come here, brother wolf. I command you, in the name of Christ, not to harm me or anyone else.” Then the wolf sat down at his feet to listen to him. Francis said that the people in town would feed the wolf everyday if he just quit killing animals and children. From that day on, the wolf was like the town dog, kind and loving, being fed by the people, and townspeople and wolf lived in peace. 

Or take this one, about a little lamb that a local villager once gave to Francis. Francis told the lamb to join him and his fellow friars in daily prayers. Amazingly, the little lamb would come to the chapel, bleat in time with the music and “sing” with the choir. He even knelt before the altar during the Eucharist. 

Both of those stories are fun to hear, but if I said to you, “Don’t you want to be like St. Francis?” you would probably look at me and say, “Sure, but how? I don’t talk to starving wild wolves, and I’ve never had a little lamb sing with me during a church service.” It would be hard to look up to Francis for this sort of behavior because these stories are a bit fantastical. They give us things to listen to and marvel at, but most of us will never have a similar experience. Those stories make Francis look more supernatural than a hero we can look up to, because it seems like what Francis did in these stories is just too far beyond the norm.

But other stories of Francis are within reach. Francis was born extremely wealthy, living in the lap of luxury. He was known for wild partying and heavy drinking. His life was full of distractions, and he had access to anything he wanted, whenever he wanted. And what Francis wanted was to be a knight in shining armor. He joined the army for the fame and glory. But, the enemy captured him, and kept him in prison for about a year. That time in prison broke him of his pride and made him realize that the path he was on was a path toward destruction. When he was finally released from prison, on his way home to Assisi, he ran across a leper, panhandling just to survive. The contrast between his crazy rich lifestyle and the life of this poor, sick beggar so moved Francis that he went into a church in the town of San Damiano to pray. In that prayer, he felt God was telling him to rebuild the church, as the church at that time was corrupt, and full of evil. Soon after, Francis gave up his wealth, and started to help all the lepers in this town of San Damiano. 

Now that sort of thing is more accessible to all of us. Something we can relate to. While we may not give up all of our wealth, and live as a beggar on the streets, just to help out the other poor, we all know the beauty of helping out those whose lives are skating on thin ice, just barely surviving. That sort of behavior is within our reach, and makes Francis seem like a hero of the faith, someone we might actually want to emulate.

But what about those who don’t have entire books written about them? What about those people we look up to, but no one writes a book about? Take, for instance, the little 88 year old lady at one of the churches I used to go to, who would come in like clockwork every Tuesday morning to volunteer. She would go through the pews and refill prayer cards, sharpen pencils, and make sure everything was stocked for the next Sunday. And as she did all of that, she would remember the person who usually sits in that pew, and pray for each person as she walked through the pews. Even if I shared her name with you, you would probably forget it right away. But what you won’t forget is her dedication to the work of the kingdom, praying for each person by name as she walked through the pews. Praying for the church as she sharpened pencils. Refusing to be recognized during the church service for all the work she does, because that time on Tuesday mornings was “between her and God.” She passed away just a few months ago. And yet, I remember her. And I celebrate her life. Her dedication and commitment is something I loved about her and want to emulate. I’m sure you could name people in your own life that would fit this bill. People you want to emulate.

The church is full of people just like this woman. Unnamed, remembered only by those who love her, and by those whose lives she touched. And yet, each of them a witness to the Truth of the Gospel of Christ. 

We are surrounded, at all times, but a great cloud of witnesses to the faith, as the letter to the Hebrews tells us (Hebrews 12:1). We believe in the resurrection, and so this great cloud of witnesses includes all believers. Those who have gone before us, both those celebrated history and society, and those virtually unknown to anyone but those who loved them. And yet, each of them is a witness to the Good News of Jesus, the Christ. A multitude that no one can count, from every tribe and tongue and nation (Revelation 7:9).

We are not in this alone. We are surrounded by those living on earth, and those who have already entered into eternal life. And it is with all of these saints, and all of these souls that we stand together when we take Holy Communion. It’s never just us alone standing here taking communion. There is a horde of believers that takes communion with us, extending back to the beginnings of our faith, and extending far into the future for those who will continue to believe after we have left this world and entered into our eternal reward. We are not alone. We are never alone. We are only the current part of this great cloud of witnesses to Christ: past, present, and future.

Because All Saints and All Souls’ days remember those who have gone before us, and remind us of the great cloud of witnesses to the faith, it has long been that today is a day that the Church has found suitable for Baptisms. It is a suitable day for Baptisms because it remembers those saints that have gone before us, and it celebrates those who will be newly joined to the family of God through the waters of Baptism, and who will also become one of this great cloud of witnesses.

Now, St. Alban’s is not celebrating any baptisms today, but because it is a day set aside for baptisms, it is only appropriate that we all, together – with all the great cloud of witnesses who have come before us, and who will come after us – that we all together recite our Baptismal Covenant. By reciting the covenant, we can remind ourselves of why we are here, in this church, at this time, and why we continue to serve the God that we serve. 

This Baptismal Covenant may be new for some of you. Or, you may not have heard the questions and answers in a long time. So I urge you to listen to the words, both the questions and the responses, as we say these words together. 

Together with all the saints of God.

[This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on November 1, 2026.]