The Rev. Dr. Kenneth H. Saunders III
Greeneville, TN
All Saints' Day
November 1, 2026
Revelation 7:9-17
Psalm 34:1-10, 22
1 John 3:1-3
Matthew 5:1-12
I’ve been thinking about the people who have made a difference in my life. Not necessarily famous people, but the ordinary people who showed up, offered encouragement, demonstrated kindness, and helped me recognize something of God's love. I suspect most of us can name someone like that. Someone who helped shape our faith, perhaps without even realizing it.
On All Saints’ Day, we remember those people. But we also remember that sainthood isn't reserved for the extraordinary or the perfect. It's the calling of all of us. And that's an important distinction in today's Gospel. Jesus gathers his disciples on the mountain and begins with a series of blessings.
Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed are those who mourn.
Blessed are the meek.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.
Blessed are the merciful and the peacemakers.
Now, I don't know about you, but that's not exactly the list our world would come up with. Our society tends to celebrate wealth, power, influence, and success. We admire people who appear to have everything under control. But Jesus turns that picture upside down. He looks at people who are grieving and tells them they are blessed. He looks at people who are struggling and tells them they are blessed. He looks at those who work for peace in a world filled with conflict and tells them they are blessed.
Jesus isn't giving us a checklist of things we have to accomplish to earn God's favor. He's making a declaration about where God is present and whose lives matter. Our circumstances do not determine our worth in the eyes of God.
When we mourn, God is with us. When we struggle, God does not abandon us. And when we work for justice and peace, even when our efforts seem small, God is at work through us. That's good news, because we live in a world that often measures our worth by what we own, what we accomplish, or which side we're on.
Just look at the headlines. Political disagreements become personal hostility. Public conversations are increasingly fueled by outrage. Wars continue to devastate communities, families are displaced, and violence touches lives in ways that are difficult to comprehend.
Closer to home, people worry about the cost of groceries, housing, health care, and simply making ends meet. Behind every headline are real people. People who are afraid. People who are grieving. People who are struggling to find a little hope. And in the middle of all this, Jesus calls us blessed.
Not because suffering is good, or because injustice doesn't matter, but because God has not abandoned us. Jesus calls us to be peacemakers. Not people who pretend disagreements don't matter, or who remain silent when others are mistreated. But people who seek peace grounded in justice, mercy, and the dignity of every human being.
Sometimes that means standing up for someone who is being treated unfairly. Sometimes it means listening to someone with whom we disagree. And sometimes it means choosing kindness when anger would be easier. That's not always easy, but it is the work of the saints.
And that brings us to our reading from Revelation. John is on the Island of Patmos, and he gives us a vision of a great multitude gathered before the throne of God and before the Lamb. The multitude comes from every nation, tribe, people, and language. Think about that for a moment.
In a world that constantly sorts people into opposing camps, deciding who belongs and who doesn't, and building walls between us, John sees a multitude that cannot be counted. People from every nation. Every language. Every background. And they ALL stand together before God.
They are not gathered because they all look alike, think alike, or agree on everything. They are gathered because they belong to God. This is a remarkable vision, especially when we remember the circumstances in which Revelation was written.
John was writing to Christian communities experiencing pressure, suffering, and marginalization. They were living in a world where the powerful claimed authority, where violence and fear were tools of control, and where faithfulness to Christ could come at a cost. John wasn't offering them an escape from reality. He was reminding them that the powers of this world do not have the final word.
And then comes the promise... They will hunger no more and thirst no more. Their suffering will end. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Every tear. Not just the tears of people we understand. Not just the tears of people who agree with us. Every tear.
This is the hope of All Saints' Day. A world where suffering does not have the last word. Where death does not have the last word. Where hatred and division do not have the last word.
God has the last word, and God's last word is love.
And notice something else about this vision. The Lamb becomes the shepherd. The one who was wounded and suffered is the one who leads God's people to living water. Our hope is not in a world where suffering never happened. It is in a God who has entered into our suffering, who knows our wounds, and who promises to bring us through them.
The Christian life isn't about proving that we're worthy of God's love. It's about learning to live because we are already loved. We love because God first loved us. We forgive because we have been forgiven. We serve because Jesus came not to be served, but to serve. And we hope because the God who raised Jesus from the dead is still making all things new.
That's why All Saints' Day isn't simply about looking backward. Of course, we remember those who came before us. We give thanks for their faithfulness and for the ways they shaped our lives. But their witness isn't meant to leave us longing for the past.
Sometimes the Church spends so much time remembering when the pews were full, when Sunday school was thriving, and when church seemed to occupy a more central place in community life that we forget to ask what God is doing now. Of course, whenever we talk about the good old days, we tend to remember the things we liked and conveniently forget some of the things we didn't!
There is nothing wrong with remembering the past with gratitude. But the saints who came before us didn't live faithfully so that we could spend our lives wishing we were living theirs. They lived faithfully so that the Gospel could be carried into the next generation. And now that work belongs to us.
The question isn't whether we can recreate the past. The question is whether we will trust God enough to live faithfully in the present. Will we welcome the stranger? Will we care for those who are hungry, lonely, or forgotten? Will we stand beside those who are grieving? Will we work for reconciliation when relationships are broken? Will we respect the dignity of every human being, even when doing so challenges us?
These aren't questions reserved for the great saints whose names appear in books or on liturgical calendars. They're questions for us. For those who pray for one another, visit the sick, prepare meals, teach children, welcome newcomers, and quietly care for people in need. For those who keep showing up, even when life is difficult, and faith doesn't come easily.
This is how the kingdom of God becomes visible in the world. Not through one grand accomplishment, but through countless acts of love, mercy, courage, and faithfulness. And we don't do this work alone.
In baptism, we are welcomed into God's family and made members of Christ's Body. We promise to follow the teachings of Jesus, proclaim the Good News, seek and serve Christ in all people, and strive for justice and peace. And we promise to do them with God's help.
Those promises don't mean we've got everything figured out. They mean we're committed to the journey. And when we fall short, as we inevitably will, God's grace gives us the opportunity to begin again. That is what it means to be a community of saints. It means we belong to God. We depend on God's grace. And we learn together to follow Jesus.
So, on this All Saints' Day, I invite you to think about the people who have helped you recognize God's love. Perhaps it was a parent or grandparent. A Sunday school teacher. A friend. A priest. Someone who may not even realize how much their faithfulness meant to you.
Remember what they did. Remember how they loved you. Remember how they helped you see something of God. And then ask yourself one question: Whose life might be touched by God's love through me?
You don't have to change the whole world. You don't have to have all the answers. You don't have to be perfect. You simply have to be willing to let God's love take root in your life and bear good fruit in the lives of others. Because the world needs saints.
It needs people who show mercy, work for peace, stand up for justice, and refuse to give up on the possibility that God's love can transform our lives and our world. Jesus is already at work among us. Our calling isn't to save the world by our own strength. Jesus has already accomplished what we could never accomplish on our own.
Our calling is to follow him, to love as he loves, and to join in his work of reconciliation and restoration. One day, the vision John saw will be fulfilled. Hunger and thirst will be no more. Suffering will end. And God will wipe away every tear. Until that day, we live as people of that promise. We live as people who believe that mercy is stronger than hatred, that reconciliation is possible, and that love is worth the risk. We live as people who know we are not alone.
So, my brothers and sisters, take heart. We are saints of God not because we're perfect, but because we're loved. Not because we've finished the journey, but because God continues to transform us. And not because we have all the answers, but because we belong to the One who is the source of our deepest hope.
Let us keep walking in the way of Jesus. Let us keep loving our neighbors, seeking justice, making peace, and extending mercy. And let us trust that the small acts of faithfulness we offer today are part of God's much larger work of making all things new.
Because one day, we will join that great multitude from every nation, tribe, people, and language, gathered before the throne of God and the Lamb, and with ALL the saints, we will sing: “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.”
