Tag Archives: saints

Counted Among the Saints

A Sermon for The Feast of All Saints (Year A)
The Baptism of Dorothy Weeks Atkinson
November 1, 2026

Text: Revelation 7:9-17

Now, O Lord, take my lips, and speak through them. Take our minds, and think through them. Take our hearts, and set them on fire. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

As many of you know, we have a Wednesday morning Bible study that meets each week in the Library. Back in the spring, as we came to the end of our study of the Book of Romans, we had a conversation about which book of the Bible we wanted to study next, and all of us agreed that in the fall we should tackle the Book of Revelation.

It’s a book that many of us aren’t very familiar with.

It’s filled with mystery and symbolism and imagery that can be difficult to understand and even harder to connect with our lives.

And I think that’s why so many Christians tend to stay away from it—including preachers!

But I saw it as a challenge and a good opportunity for us to address some of the common beliefs and misconceptions people have about Revelation.

So for the past few months, we’ve been digging deep into this mysterious book, one chapter at a time.

One thing that’s really surprised me—and I think others as well—is how often the book returns to these beautiful scenes of heavenly worship.

For a lot of people, they think Revelation is about predicting the future or how to avoid getting “left behind” when everyone else is raptured up into heaven—things they’ve read about in novels or seen in movies.

Or they tend to focus on the really frightening parts—like the four horsemen of the apocalypse or the monstrous creatures that bring chaos and destruction to the earth.

Now, I’m not suggesting we should overlook the difficult parts of the text, but what we’ve discovered in our Bible study group so far is that even with these terrifying and mysterious images, Revelation is a book about hope.

We see that so beautifully in our lesson this morning.

John—the author of Revelation—witnesses a great multitude of people gathered from every nation, tribe, people, and language. And they all stand before God’s throne, clothed in white robes, worshiping the Lamb.

John writes that these are those who have come through the great ordeal. These are the saints gathered around God’s throne in heaven.

They aren’t people whose lives have always been easy or free from suffering. They are people whose faith has been tested and who now share in the victory of Christ.

These are the ones who have endured through the end and now stand before God. The Lamb who was slain has become their shepherd, and God promises to wipe away every tear from their eyes.

What this means for us today, beloved, is that even though we live in a world filled with conflict and suffering, God is still the one who sits on the throne.

We can’t always control the circumstances around us. We can’t eliminate every hardship. And following Jesus won’t always be easy.

But our call is to remain faithful, just like the saints who’ve come before us.

Our call is to continue to worship God, to love our neighbors, to serve those in need, and to proclaim the Good News of God in Christ to the world.

Our faith is rooted in the hope that one day, God will make all things new. All that is broken will be restored, and God’s Kingdom will finally be fulfilled, ushering in a new heaven and a new earth.

That’s the hope we find in the Book of Revelation, and it’s the same hope we celebrate today on the Feast of All Saints.

On this day, we remember and give thanks for the saints who’ve gone before us.

Some of the saints we remember today are well-known figures in history. Others are ordinary people whose faith shaped our lives—family members, loved ones, and even beloved members of our church family.

Today, we give thanks for their lives and trust that they now rest in the eternal presence of God.

A little later in the service, when we come to the Prayers of the People, we’ll name aloud all those saints in our lives whom we love but see no longer.

But All Saints’ Day is more than just the Church’s Memorial Day.

It’s also about remembering who we are as Christians and the vows and promises we make in Baptism.

All Saints is one of those days that’s especially appropriate for Baptism, because through the sacrament of Baptism, we are woven into the tapestry of Christ’s Body—the Church—and become part of the communion of saints.

That communion includes both the faithful departed and those of us still living who carry on the work of Christ.

Death doesn’t sever the bonds that unite us.

One of the most beautiful things about our worship in the Episcopal Church is that we celebrate the Eucharist every Sunday.

And every time we gather around this altar to receive the Body and Blood of Christ, it’s not just those of us who are here physically.

We join our voices with angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven, including the saints who’ve gone before us.

We are all connected as the Body of Christ and part of that great cloud of witnesses that stretches across time and space.

And because of that, it’s important for us to reflect on what it really means to be a saint.

The first thing we should remember is that sainthood isn’t reserved for a handful of exceptionally holy people.

We do have feast days throughout the year when we remember the lives of certain, individual saints who led holy lives and who teach us what it means to live faithfully.

But the New Testament repeatedly uses the word “saints” to describe ordinary, Christian believers.

Being a saint doesn’t mean we’re perfect or that we never make mistakes. It means we belong to God and are set apart to live faithfully as followers of Jesus.

It’s like that hymn we sang just a few moments ago: “I Sing a Song of the Saints of God.” Saints aren’t just figures from the past. They’re ordinary people living out their faith in everyday life—just like you and me.

A lot of people think that in order to live faithful lives, we have to retreat from the world or renounce everything we consider worldly.

But that’s not our calling.

We’re called to be in the world, but not of the world—to proclaim the Good News of God in Christ and participate in God’s work of healing and restoration.

Thankfully, we don’t have to do it alone.

In Baptism, we are welcomed into a community that promises to walk with us. And today, we have the joy of welcoming a brand-new Christian into that community.

In just a few moments, together with her parents and godparents, we will welcome Dorothy Weeks Atkinson—also known as “Dodie”— as the newest member of the Body of Christ.

Together, we will renew our own vows and promises of Baptism and recommit ourselves to following Jesus.

Through the waters of baptism, Dodie will be welcomed into the household of God and marked as Christ’s own forever.

Baptism is a gift from God—an outward and visible sign of God’s grace. It’s not something we can earn or deserve.

None of us can do anything to earn or deserve God’s love, yet God claims us as his own and welcomes us into his family.

The same will be true for Dodie.

Josh and Collie, together with Dodie’s godparents and family, will promise to nurture her and help her grow in the Christian life and faith.

But they’re not making that commitment alone.

All of us will be asked: “Will you who witness these vows do all in your power to support this person in her life in Christ?”

And with a loud voice, we’ll answer: “We will.”

That promise is about more than just being present at Dodie’s baptism today. It’s about being present in her life.

It’s about being there when she needs the love and support of her church family.

Dodie will learn what it means to follow Jesus not only from her parents and godparents but also through the example of the people in this church.

She’ll need that example because there will be moments when life is hard. There will be moments when she’s confused and afraid and unsure of which path to follow.

Because the Christian life isn’t always easy and the ways of the world have a tendency to draw us away from loving God and our neighbor.

There will be moments when Dodie struggles with her faith, just like we all do. There will be times when she falls short of her calling and makes mistakes.

Thankfully, we have a loving and merciful God.

At every baptism, we promise to persevere in resisting evil and, whenever we fall into sin, to repent and return to the Lord.

And our response to that promise is always: “I will, with God’s help.”

We depend upon the grace and mercy of God and the support of our brothers and sisters in Christ to help us live lives worthy of the Gospel.

In our lesson this morning from Revelation, John sees a great multitude of saints gathered around God’s throne in heaven, united in worship.

And today, through the waters of baptism, Dodie will be welcomed into the household of God and counted among the saints.

Just as we’ve been supported by those who came before us, we now promise to support her.

That’s one of the most beautiful things about the way we do baptism in this church.

It’s not just about the person being baptized.

It’s about all of us remembering who we are and promising to love and support this new Christian in her life in Christ.

There’s no doubt she’ll have the love and support of her parents. She has some really good parents.

She has the love and support of her godparents and her family and this parish.

And together, we will be with her as she grows and matures in her faith and discovers how God is calling her to live as a follower of Jesus.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

I Sing a Song of the Saints of God

A Sermon for the Feast of All Saints (Year B)
November 3, 2024

Text: John 11:32-44

Now, O Lord, take my lips, and speak through them. Take our minds, and think through them. Take our hearts, and set them on fire. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

There are several hymns in our hymnal that are especially appropriate for us to sing on All Saints’ Day—beautiful hymns such as the one that we sang at the beginning of our service this morning, “For all the saints, who from their labors rest.”

But, there’s one hymn that, for me, really gets to the heart of what this feast day is all about.

We sang it just a few minutes ago, and it begins like this:

I sing a song of the saints of God, patient and brave and true, who toiled and fought and lived and died for the Lord they loved and knew. And one was a doctor, and one was a queen, and one was a shepherdess on the green: they were all of them saints of God, and I mean, God helping, to be one too.

In the parish where I served in northwest Texas right out of seminary, we sang this hymn every time there was a baptism.

During the service, we would process to the baptismal font, which was close to the entrance of the church—similar to the way we do it here at St. Mary’s.

We would do the baptism, and when it was over, we would return to the front of the Nave.

And, as we did this, the congregation would sing, “I sing a song of the saints of God.”

It was such a beautiful tradition, and there’s a good reason why we did this.

The words of this particular hymn convey the simple truth that each one of us, by virtue of our baptism in Christ, is called to be a saint, to live a life worthy of the Gospel.

St. Paul wrote about this frequently in his letters to the earliest Christian communities.

In his letter to the Ephesians, for example, Paul writes, “I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.”

In the New Testament, the Greek word for “saint” is hagios, which literally means “holy” or “set apart.”

All of us, whether we realize or not, are counted among the saints and set apart to live our lives as Christ has taught us to live.

All Saints’ Day is a time for us celebrate and give thanks for all those who’ve come before us in the faith, guiding us with their wisdom and providing us with examples of holy living.

This is why it’s customary in many parishes on this day—including ours—to include in our prayers a list of the dearly departed, those who’ve come before us and who now rest in the eternal peace of God.

Some people refer to All Saints’ Day as the Church’s “memorial day,” but it’s actually a lot more than just a day of remembrance.

It’s also a time for us to consider how we might pattern our own lives on Jesus and live more fully into our sainthood.

To do this, I’d like for us to reflect for a moment on today’s Gospel reading from John.

This is a familiar story for many of us.

Most of the time, the part we remember the most—the part we tend to focus on—is the miracle Jesus performs at the end of the story when he goes to the tomb of his friend, Lazarus, calls for the people to roll away the stone at the entrance of the cave, and cries out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”

And, we all know how the story ends.

The dead man comes out of the cave, still wrapped up in bands of cloth, and Jesus tells the people who are standing near, “Unbind him, and let him go.”

The raising of Lazarus is Jesus’ way of demonstrating to the people that, for those who truly believe and put their faith in God, death will have no hold over us.

Our Christian faith teaches us that death isn’t the end, only the beginning of new life with God.

We belong to God.

Like the saints who’ve come before us, we are the Lord’s possession, and nothing—not even death—can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

We’re reminded of this every time there’s a baptism in church when the priest anoints the newly baptized with the oil of chrism while saying the words, “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.”

This is important for people of faith to remember—especially in times of adversity.

Because of our Lord’s sacrifice on the cross and his victory over the powers of sin and death, we have no reason to ever live in fear.

The victory is already won.

But, that doesn’t mean we can just sit on the sidelines and do whatever we want.

Because there’s still a lot of work left to do in the building up of God’s Kingdom, and as Christians, we’ve been called to do this work—to help restore God’s vision of a world redeemed in love where justice and peace exist for all people.

Which leads me to the part of today’s Gospel lesson that I really want us to focus on this morning.

I want us to back up a bit to the beginning of the passage and reflect for a moment about how Jesus responds to Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus, who are grieving the loss of their brother.

We learn that, soon after Jesus arrives, Mary comes to him, kneels down at his feet, and says, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

Her words must’ve felt like daggers to Jesus’ heart.

She’s heartbroken, and I think, at least to some degree, she’s angry and frustrated with Jesus and blames him for not coming sooner and preventing this terrible tragedy.

And, there are others who are standing around as well and watching all of this unfold between Mary and Jesus, and they also begin to weep.

I imagine it looks a lot like going to the funeral of a close friend or family member and seeing all of their loved ones standing close by and supporting each other in their grief.

Seeing how Mary and the others are overwhelmed with emotion, Jesus also begins to weep—not because he believes that Lazarus is gone for good but because he loves him, and he sees how much his family and friends loved him.

For me, the most inspiring part of the story is not so much the resurrection of Lazarus from the grave.

That part’s important, too.

But, the part of the story that really moves me and inspires me is the compassion Jesus demonstrates when he weeps right alongside those who are mourning.

It’s such a beautifully human moment for Jesus and the others.

And, it’s a wonderful reminder for all of us that, in the midst of the pain and agony of this human life, we have the ability to sit with each other when times are tough and help bear each other’s burdens and bring a little bit of comfort and peace to those who mourn.

We have the ability to share God’s love with those who are suffering by simply acknowledging their pain and letting them know they’re not alone.

This brings me back to what today is all about as we celebrate the lives of all the saints who’ve come before us and as we consider the kind of legacy we want to leave behind for future generations.

Personally speaking, I want to be the kind of saint—the kind of Christian—that models the love and compassion of Jesus by responding to God’s call and doing the work that needs to be done.

I want to be the kind of Christian that’s unafraid about what others might think when I sit with someone who’s grieving or someone who just needs a little extra love in their lives.

I want to be the kind of Christian that puts aside my own needs and concerns long enough to let others know that there’s at least one other person in this world who cares about them.

I want to be the kind of Christian that future generations in the church will sing about when they celebrate All Saints’ Day—not for my glory but for the glory of God.

And, truth be told, that’s what I hope for all of us gathered here today, that future generations will one day sing about us—

I sing a song of the saints of God, patient and brave and true, who toiled and fought and lived and died for the Lord they loved and knew. And one was a doctor, and one was a queen, and one was a shepherdess on the green: they were all of them saints of God, and I mean, God helping, to be one too.

Amen.