Faith Works 10-25-2025
Jeff Gill
Saints have a foot in heaven
___
All Saints Day in the Christian calendar arrives November 1, which is part of the story of how we ended up with the eve of All Saints, or All Hallows in an older English, being October 31.
But the core observance for the faithful is November the first, with the second marked as All Souls Day. This crossed the Atlantic and mixed with ancient Mexican traditions to give them, and us, the "Day of the Dead" which in much of central America is a multi-day observance centered in and around both churches and cemeteries.
Why both? Why a day for all the saints, and a day for all souls? Keep in mind that the declaration of a saint in the Catholic tradition is the church saying someone has displayed heroic virtue in some form, and has given proof that they are in heaven. This is why the process of sainthood involves the verification of miracles on earth as a sign of the honored person's presence with God.
All souls is exactly what it sounds like: all the honored dead. But without the assumption that just by being deceased they are in heaven. Some we might be pretty sure about, others we wonder "but who of us knows for sure?" And a few we're pretty certain went somewhere else entirely… diplomatically, we honor them all, everyone on All Souls Day.
If you are of a universalist frame of mind, a subject for a different column I'll just say now, you would have no problem saying all who have died are in God's presence, and one observance covers saints and sinners alike. But it wasn't that long ago that the general funerial assumption was we asked prayers for the repose of the soul of the dearly departed, and for God to welcome them into the heavenly habitations.
This has changed. The general expectation is that the presiding clergy or speakers fairly explicitly describe the deceased as being in heaven, now, assuredly: do not pass Go, do not collect $200 dollars (because you can't take it with you). More liturgical traditions will still hew to a more cautious line, if you listen closely and pay attention, but the idea is that it's not up to us to decide, or to say, who is or isn't in heaven.
I will admit I have done a few funerals where the deceased was, well, not unmourned, but whose antisocial and unpleasant qualities made most in attendance uneasy when it came time to hear the funeral message. This is where the more cautious approach, if not a more liturgical formula for funerals, can benefit one and all by putting the emphasis where I would say it belongs: no one gets into heaven without God doing the heavy lifting. (Was I talking about this last week?) There is an encouragement to all in attendance in being reminded that, now that all is said and done, the relationship is entirely between the departed, and the divine. God has them in care, and God has promised to be merciful.
Saints, whose number we should all aspire to joining, can skip the miracle requirement by dying as a witness (in Greek, martyr simply means witness) to their faith. Such martyrdom has proven itself; other lives of heroic virtue need a bit more validation. The noted Catholic writer Flannery O'Connor said of a character in one of her stories "She could never be a saint, but she thought she could be a martyr if they killed her quick."
We mark the passing of those who have "gone on before" in most churches, in some form or another, around Nov. 1. It's wise to be careful about making just anyone a saint, an example to follow, but I think the historic church would concede there are many more saints in heaven than our mechanisms honor.
Whose lives have inspired your own? Who are your patron saints, official or informal?
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's still working on sainthood, but has hopes. Tell him who has inspired your hope of heaven at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads or Bluesky.
Jeff Gill
Saints have a foot in heaven
___
All Saints Day in the Christian calendar arrives November 1, which is part of the story of how we ended up with the eve of All Saints, or All Hallows in an older English, being October 31.
But the core observance for the faithful is November the first, with the second marked as All Souls Day. This crossed the Atlantic and mixed with ancient Mexican traditions to give them, and us, the "Day of the Dead" which in much of central America is a multi-day observance centered in and around both churches and cemeteries.
Why both? Why a day for all the saints, and a day for all souls? Keep in mind that the declaration of a saint in the Catholic tradition is the church saying someone has displayed heroic virtue in some form, and has given proof that they are in heaven. This is why the process of sainthood involves the verification of miracles on earth as a sign of the honored person's presence with God.
All souls is exactly what it sounds like: all the honored dead. But without the assumption that just by being deceased they are in heaven. Some we might be pretty sure about, others we wonder "but who of us knows for sure?" And a few we're pretty certain went somewhere else entirely… diplomatically, we honor them all, everyone on All Souls Day.
If you are of a universalist frame of mind, a subject for a different column I'll just say now, you would have no problem saying all who have died are in God's presence, and one observance covers saints and sinners alike. But it wasn't that long ago that the general funerial assumption was we asked prayers for the repose of the soul of the dearly departed, and for God to welcome them into the heavenly habitations.
This has changed. The general expectation is that the presiding clergy or speakers fairly explicitly describe the deceased as being in heaven, now, assuredly: do not pass Go, do not collect $200 dollars (because you can't take it with you). More liturgical traditions will still hew to a more cautious line, if you listen closely and pay attention, but the idea is that it's not up to us to decide, or to say, who is or isn't in heaven.
I will admit I have done a few funerals where the deceased was, well, not unmourned, but whose antisocial and unpleasant qualities made most in attendance uneasy when it came time to hear the funeral message. This is where the more cautious approach, if not a more liturgical formula for funerals, can benefit one and all by putting the emphasis where I would say it belongs: no one gets into heaven without God doing the heavy lifting. (Was I talking about this last week?) There is an encouragement to all in attendance in being reminded that, now that all is said and done, the relationship is entirely between the departed, and the divine. God has them in care, and God has promised to be merciful.
Saints, whose number we should all aspire to joining, can skip the miracle requirement by dying as a witness (in Greek, martyr simply means witness) to their faith. Such martyrdom has proven itself; other lives of heroic virtue need a bit more validation. The noted Catholic writer Flannery O'Connor said of a character in one of her stories "She could never be a saint, but she thought she could be a martyr if they killed her quick."
We mark the passing of those who have "gone on before" in most churches, in some form or another, around Nov. 1. It's wise to be careful about making just anyone a saint, an example to follow, but I think the historic church would concede there are many more saints in heaven than our mechanisms honor.
Whose lives have inspired your own? Who are your patron saints, official or informal?
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's still working on sainthood, but has hopes. Tell him who has inspired your hope of heaven at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads or Bluesky.
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