The saints have marched past, Christ the King waits ahead, and here we are in the quiet space between. These ordinary November days invite us to discover that God does some of God’s finest work in the places we are tempted to hurry through. Perhaps holiness is simply learning to walk faithfully when there are no trumpets.
Tag Archives: All Saints
The Saints Before the Saints
Long before Bethlehem, the Church, or even the word “Christian,” God was already calling saints. On November 4, we remember the Saints of the Old Testament—the wonderfully imperfect family of faith who carried God’s promise forward. From Abraham beneath the stars to Ruth in the fields and Moses before the burning bush, their lives remind us that holiness is not perfection but imperfect people caught up in the persistent purposes of a faithful God.
A Faith Big Enough for the Living and the Dead
Richard Hooker arrives in the calendar just after All Saints and All Souls—a theologian following a great company of saints, which seems wonderfully Anglican. As Día de los Muertos and its beautiful tradition of the ofrenda remind us, memory can become an act of love. Photographs, candles, flowers, food, stories, Eucharist, and prayer all point toward a greater Christian hope: the family of God is larger than the room we can see, and in God no beloved name is ever forgotten.
Love Does Not Forget: All Souls and the Holy Work of Remembering
All Souls’ Day invites us to remember those whom we have loved and see no longer. We say their names, tell their stories, shed our tears, share our laughter, and entrust them again to God—trusting that death may change love, but cannot destroy it.
The Ordinary Road That Leads to the Saints
As Ordinary Time gives way to our journey toward All Saints, perhaps we discover what these quiet weeks have been teaching us all along: saints are not made somewhere beyond ordinary life. Holiness begins here—in kitchens, conversations, interruptions, acts of mercy, and the next faithful thing God places before us.
God Is Not Waiting for You to Become More Impressive
We often imagine that God is waiting for us to become a more organized, prayerful, patient and generally improved version of ourselves. But Ordinary Time reminds us that God does not work with our improved selves—God works with the people we actually are. As All Saints approaches, perhaps holiness is less about self-improvement and more about surrender: discovering that grace begins not when we become impressive, but when we simply show up.
When God Is Quietly Mending Things
Some repairs arrive with noise and commotion. Grace usually does not. In these quiet days of Ordinary Time, perhaps God is already mending relationships, healing wounds, restoring hope, and making things new—one small stitch at a time.
God Is Probably in the Laundry: The Holiness of Doing It Again
Much of life consists of doing things again: washing the dishes, making breakfast, saying our prayers, offering forgiveness, beginning again. Perhaps holiness is not found only in extraordinary moments, but in the faithful repetition of ordinary ones. As All Saints approaches, we remember that saints were formed through thousands of ordinary mornings offered to God.
The Holy Art of Not Getting Everything Done
We live in a culture that admires completion, but most of life is lived in the middle — between beginning and completion, between planting and harvest, between the person we once were and the person God is still creating. In this reflection, we explore the holy art of not getting everything done, and how the interruptions, unfinished lists, and ordinary days of life are not failures, but often the very places where God meets us.
The Spiritual Importance of Putting the Kettle On
God does not wait for spectacular moments to meet us. Sometimes grace appears beside the kitchen sink, around the table, or in the simple invitation, “Would you like a cup of tea?” In these ordinary days between Thanksgiving and All Saints, perhaps holiness begins by putting the kettle on, finding another mug, and making room for someone else.