Nov. 2, 2025 - All Saints Sunday

Every November, as autumn leaves fall and Halloween candy wrappers litter our floors, the church calendar invites us into something profound. All Saints Sunday arrives quietly, asking us to remember those who've gone before us—not with sadness, but with gratitude and wonder.

But what exactly is a saint?

The word gets thrown around quite a bit. We have Saint Francis, Saint Paul, Saint Nicholas. We name churches and hospitals after them. Yet perhaps the most beautiful and accessible definition is simply this: a saint is someone who points us to Christ.

That's it. No complicated formulas or impossible standards. Just ordinary people who, through their lives, directed others toward Jesus. And when we think about it that way, suddenly the communion of saints becomes deeply personal. We all know saints—Sunday school teachers who made Bible stories come alive, parents who prayed over us, friends who showed us what grace looks like in action.

Faith: Not a Stairway, But a Labyrinth

When many of us first encounter faith, we imagine it as a straight line upward. We start at the bottom and climb steadily toward spiritual maturity—a stairway to heaven, if you will. Each day we grow a little stronger, a little wiser, a little closer to God.

But life has a way of correcting that assumption.

Faith, it turns out, is much more like walking a labyrinth. If you've ever walked one of these ancient prayer paths, you know the experience. You wind around, sometimes feeling close to the center, other times finding yourself on the outer ring again. You pass the same landmarks from different angles. Progress isn't linear—it's circular, mysterious, full of unexpected turns.

And that's okay.

There are seasons when our faith feels strong and certain. There are times when we feel mid—just going through the motions. And there are moments when we struggle to believe at all. The saints knew all of these seasons intimately. They walked the same winding path. And somehow, they kept walking.

What Faith Actually Looks Like

The Apostle Paul wrote to a tiny house church in Thessalonica—a small group of believers trying to figure out this Jesus-following thing in the midst of a culture that thought they were crazy. His letter to them offers a roadmap for what genuine faith actually looks like in everyday life.

Faith is love for each other. Not the easy, convenient kind of love, but the gritty, choose-to-care-even-when-it's-hard kind. The saints who shaped us loved us even when we were unlovable. And let's be honest—we're all unlovable from time to time. Yet they persisted in loving us anyway. That's what faith does.

Faith is patience. In our world of same-day delivery and instant gratification, patience has become a countercultural virtue. We want answers now. We want prayers answered immediately. We want spiritual growth without the slow work of transformation. But faith asks us to trust God's timing, even when it doesn't match our Amazon Prime expectations.

Faith is enduring persecution. Now, most of us aren't facing lions in the Colosseum, but we face our own forms of ridicule and misunderstanding. People scratch their heads at our commitment to worship an invisible God. They mock our church attendance. They question our values. The saints endured far worse, and they kept the faith.

Faith is staying committed even when things don't go our way. This might be the hardest one. What happens when your prayers seem to hit the ceiling and bounce right back down? When life unfolds in ways you never wanted? When God's plan looks nothing like yours? Faith means continuing to trust even then.

The Glory Question

Paul tells the Thessalonians that their goal should be simple: that the name of Jesus Christ would be glorified in their lives and actions. This echoes that famous quote often attributed to Saint Francis of Assisi: "Preach the gospel at all times; when necessary, use words."

The saints who shaped us didn't just talk about Jesus—they showed us Jesus. Their patience reflected His patience. Their love mirrored His love. Their perseverance pointed to His faithfulness. They glorified Christ not primarily through their eloquence, but through how they lived.

And here's the beautiful, challenging truth: we're called to do the same.

The Communion of Saints Is Alive

All Saints Sunday reminds us that those who've gone before aren't really gone. We believe in the communion of saints—that mysterious, wonderful reality that we're connected across time and even death to all who belong to Christ.

Those saints who shaped your faith? Their influence didn't die with them. Their love still speaks. Their example still guides. Their faith still challenges and inspires. They're part of that great cloud of witnesses cheering us on as we run our own race.

And here's where it gets personal: you're being called to join their ranks. Not by being perfect, but by being faithful. By loving when it's hard. By being patient when you want instant results. By enduring when you'd rather quit. By trusting even when you can't see the way forward.

Walking Forward

The labyrinth of faith continues. Some days you'll feel close to the center, near to God's heart. Other days you'll wonder if you've made any progress at all. But the point isn't to arrive—it's to keep walking, to keep loving, to keep pointing others toward Christ.

The saints did this imperfectly but persistently. They stumbled and doubted and struggled, just like us. But they kept walking the path. And now, having completed their journey, they've experienced the fullness of what they believed—they're with Christ, their faith made sight.

One day, we'll join them there. But until then, we have work to do. Lives to love. Patience to practice. Faith to keep. And a name to glorify—not our own, but His.

May the faith of the saints rub off on us in real and dynamic ways. May we walk this labyrinth with courage and hope. And may those who come after us look back and say, "They pointed me to Christ."

That's what it means to be a saint. And by God's grace, that's what we're called to be.