Some 500 years after the Protestant Reformation, the common understanding of sainthood is stilly mostly influenced by Roman Catholicism. We might vaguely know about the need for miracles, or that the process involves steps like beatification and canonization. These things often cloud the broader understanding of what actually makes a saint. Rather than it being about religious celebrity or those who have made significant impacts or even those who were martyred for their faith, in the New Testament, sainthood is simply a synonym for discipleship. When Paul writes about the saints, he isn’t even necessarily talking about those who have died in the faith of Christ, but rather all who have sought the kingdom and its righteousness.
A seminary classmate of mine was fond of saying that our hymns best show our heresies. This was usually in response to that line in “Hark! the herald angels sing” that invokes the gnostic heresy when it says, “veiled in flesh, the godhead see.” “For all the saints,” one of the classic All Saints’ hymns might not tip-toe into heresy, but it certainly exacerbates our profoundly misunderstood theology of sainthood in the line, “we feebly struggle, they in glory shine.” Even those saints that we honor with specific feasts like Francis, Nicholas, or Mary Magdalene feebly struggled from time to time.
The life of faith, the only qualification necessary for the title of saint, is a daily struggle. It requires us, as Joshua challenged the tribes of Israel, to choose this day whom we will serve. Will we seek after the Kingdom of God or the kingdoms of this world. Will we subscribe to a theology of God’s abundance or fall into the trap of our own scarcity. Will we look at the world in love or fall back in fear? These choices must be made, with God’s help, daily, if not minute by minute. As another classic All Saints’ hymn, “I sing a song of the saints of God,” says, “the saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too.”
Dear saints of God, what will you choose this day?