All Souls' Day

So today is November 2, All Souls' Day, a day when the church remembers those who have died. More and more we blur the line between All Saints' Day-- when we remember those particular heros of the faith who have been outstanding examples in one way or another or whose lives have shaped the Christian tradition-- and All Souls' Day. We blur that line because we know that only God knows what kind of hierarchy of saintliness there is among us, how much each life matters to the coming of God's kingdom. And we blur that line because we have people in our lives who have been examples of wisdom and courage and faith who will never be "officially" saints for the whole church but who have been holy examples for us. And we blur that line because we believe that God makes us holy by our baptism in to the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ and calls us all to holy lives.
One of the difficulties about keeping a church blog is that many of the really amazingly wonderful moments in ministry are about being privileged to be part of the lives of other people -- I get to hear people's stories, to journey with people as they seek new direction in their lives, as they search for the sacred, as they make commitments to service in the world, as they face disappointment and setbacks, as they struggle with disease and approach death. But mostly, this is material that is not appropriate for a blog. I know there are people who blog about the most intimate details of their relationships but I don't think that a priest can write that kind of stuff about parishioners. But I thought I would post the homily I preached at a memorial service on October 19th on my moribund sermon blog. You can also listen to an old sermon there. Maybe more will appear to join it soon... Maybe not. Here is a quotation from Frederick Beuchner which a friend sent me yesterday

On All Saints Day, it is not just the saints of the church that we should remember in our prayers, but all the foolish ones and wise ones, the shy ones and overbearing ones, the broken ones and whole ones, the despots and tosspots and crackpots of our lives who, one way or another, have been our particular fathers and mothers and saints, and whom we loved without knowing we loved them and by whom we were helped to whatever little we may have, or ever hope to have, of some kind of seedy sainthood of our own."

- The Sacred Journey p.74