Cosmic Kin

All Saints-C25

Immanuel Lutheran, Chicago

For those

who walked with us,

This is a prayer.

For those

who have gone ahead,

this is a blessing.

For those

who touched and tended us,

who lingered with us

while they lived,

this a thanksgiving.

For those

who journey still with us

in the shadows of awareness,

in the crevices of memory,

in the landscape of our dreams,

this is a benediction. (Jan Richardson, “For Those Who Walked with Us” The Painted Prayerbook.)

The feast of All Saints offers insight into the character of God our creator. Today’s liturgy has its historical origins from when our Christian ancestors moved northward into ancient Europe. There, they encountered and adopted two ancient seasonal festivals, one held near the spring equinox and the other at the end of autumn. These festivals informed what we now call Easter and All Saints.  “Both festivals, falling at or near seasonal equinoxes of Mother Earth’s cycles of fertility, are held in the liminal time between winter and summer. They mark the transitory balance of dark and light, the two rare moments when moon and sun are equal…. [Today] At the threshold of what has been and what will be, we more fully understand both the miracle of resurrection and the mystery of death” (Diana Butler Bass, A Beautiful Year, 2025, pp. 296-297).

All life is lovingly held in the palm of God’s hand.  The poet and essayist, Mary Oliver, wrote, “Do you think there is anything, not attached by its unbreakable cord to everything else?” Such profound truths draw nearer to us when the colors and smells of autumn death are upon us.

“On these days, we are invited to be aware of deep time—that is, past, present, and future time gathered into one especially holy moment. We are reminded that our ancestors are still in us and work with us and through us” Deep time, along with the communion of saints professed in our creeds, means that our goodness is not just our own, nor is our badness just our own. We are intrinsically social animals. We carry the lived and the unlived (and unhealed) lives of our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents as far back as DNA and genomes can trace them—and beyond that—including the whole 13.8-billion-year history of the universe.  We are the very first generation to know that this is literally and genetically and cosmically true. There is deep healing and understanding when we honor the full cycle of life. (Richard Rohr, “Fullness of Time,” Daily Meditations, 10/31/25).

We hold these truths to be self-evident. We uphold the fundamental dignity of all human beings even as federal support for SNAP benefits ends, immigrant neighbors are abducted and terrorized, and military ships amass as for war in the Caribbean.

We proclaim the words of St. Paul in his letter to the Ephesians.  “And [God] has put all things under [Christ’s] feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all (Ephesians 1:22-23).  We are in communion with Christ, communion our ancestors in faith, communion with all things living and that have ever lived, in communion now with all those who suffer want or injustice.

The Eucharist re-presents this gospel truth to us each Sunday with a mixture of words and actions.  We cannot process such a universal truth logically; but we can slowly digest it! “Eat it and know who you are,” St. Augustine once said. Likewise, in baptism water and the Word combine to instruct us each day as we rise who and whose we are. We are children of God, and so is everyone else.

Only slowly does the truth become believable. Finally, we realize that the Body of Christ is not out there, or up in heaven; it’s in you—it’s here and now and everywhere. Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. Slowly, little by little and sometimes, all at once, you and I awaken to possibility we may take part in the second coming of Christ. We do God’s work with our hands.  Together, we are a living sanctuary of hope and grace where we and all who are hurting now may take shelter and grow in grace.

It sounds like mission impossible. Jesus said, ‘Love your enemies. Bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, look them in the eye and offer the other cheek also. If anyone takes your coat offer them your shirt.  Give to everyone who begs from you. If anyone steals your stuff, don’t ask for it back. Do unto others as you would have them do to you.’ (Luke 6:27-31)

Mission impossible becomes mission possible when we join our lives together in Christ. On days like today, amidst fall colors, candles, icons, photos, and keepsakes of departed loved ones, perhaps we are closer to realizing that our lives exist in kinship. “It is not just that my well-being and yours are at some very real level bound up together if we look closely enough at our economies and societies and ecologies. We may resist this knowledge and live in lonely and unhealthy defiance of it. Nevertheless, we are joined at all times by the substance of our beings — the energy and matter of our bodies, the air we breathe, the ground we stand on, and the mysterious stuff of consciousness itself — and this is as much common sense as high science.” (Krista Tippett, “On Staying Grounded,” On Being, 11/01/25).

Today, we may listen to the great communion of saints now gathered around us speaking from the shadows and the light, from the crevices of memory, and in the landscape of our dreams. Yes, they say. The power of evil is real. But there’s no better way to make a better world than when evil is returned with forgiveness and mercy. All the Saints in heaven sing alleluia!