|"All Saints" by Wassily Kandinsky|
The Feast of All Saints is one of my favorites. Each year I welcome the reminder that there are those who already know the way Home and who surround us, who accompany us, as we make our way.
These last days we have had several conversations in community about Saints, about Spirits, about the presence of those who have gone before. It is not surprising that we have spoken about this among ourselves more this year than I remember doing in the past—two of our sisters in this city have died within the last several months and their deaths have been keenly felt by the community.
It is interesting to me that when I think about what makes a Saint…or the image I have of Saints…the first thing I think of is a person’s humanity. Somehow, living the fullness of their humanity IS the divinity that radiates.
They have lived and shown to others the edges and quirks of their full humanity—The pointy bits and the softer ones. They have lived as Who They Are because anything less would be too confining, too “other” a shape.
They are people who sometimes frustrate, sometimes challenge, sometimes console, sometimes confuse, and people who radiate a love of God that cannot be held in check, cannot be suppressed, denied, or left aside if they are to Be.
I have known some of these people over my life and I am grateful.