Last night,
we welcomed more trick-or-treaters than we’ve seen in years—
spooky, silly, sweet,
and far too many simply too cute.
But beneath the costumes and candy,
last night was also a vigil.
Not to summon shadows—
but to remember light.
Not to fear the dark—
but to await the dawn.
Beside the laughter and the lanterns,
the faithful whispered prayers.
In the hush of All Hallows’ Eve,
we longed not for ghosts—
but for grace.
And today, we rise.
We rise into the feast of All Saints—
not a feast for the flawless,
but for the faithful.
Not for the few,
but for the many—
a multitude no one can count,
from every nation, race, people, and tongue.
Saints who stand before the throne and the Lamb,
robes washed in mercy,
palms lifted in praise,
crying out in a loud voice:
“Salvation comes from our God,
who is seated on the throne,
and from the Lamb.”
This is not only their song—
it is ours.
Because sainthood is not a trophy.
It’s testimony.
Not earned—
but received.
Not about being spotless—
but surrendered.
The saints are not distant icons.
They are echoes in our own stories.
The grandmother who prayed quietly in her pew.
The child who loved without hesitation.
The martyr, the mystic, the misfit, the monk.
Grace-worn and radiant,
surrendered and strong—
they are us.
Holiness is not perfection.
It is participation—
saying yes to grace, again and again.
Even when the heart is fractured.
Especially then.
“See what love the Father has bestowed on us,
that we may be called children of God.
Yet so we are.”
So today, let us honor the saints—
by becoming one.
Let us be grace-worn hearts that shine.
Hands that reach across divides.
A Church that remembers, repents, and rejoices.
And when we feel too small,
too tired,
too unworthy—
may we remember:
The saints were not perfect.
They were faithful.
And so, by grace,
may we be too.
Blessing and glory, wisdom and thanksgiving,
honor, power, and might
be to our God forever and ever.
Amen.
Prayer: Becoming One
God of the faithful,
You who kindle light in every heart,
thank You for the saints—
not perfect, but surrendered,
not distant, but among us.
Teach us to honor them
by becoming one—
grace-worn and radiant,
hands reaching across divides,
hearts saying yes to You again and again.
By Your mercy,
make us faithful too.
Amen.
