If you don’t know me, you need to understand that I am not a member of the Roman Catholic Church, and I am not an expert in the practices of that part of Christianity. I do have many Roman Catholic friends, and I am grateful for their faith and witness, but my perspective remains Protestant. I do not intend my observations to be saying that my perspective on faith is superior to the positions of the Roman Catholic church or that Roman Catholic doctrine is somehow “wrong.”

The traditions of All Saints have roots more ancient than the division between the Roman Catholic and Protestant streams of Christianity. A thousand years before the Reformation, Pope Gregory established All Saints as a holy day on the calendar. The first day of November was to be a time to express gratitude for Christians who had died in their faith. Its roots lie in the recognition of the sacrifice of martyrs, who willingly endured suffering and death rather than renouncing their faith. Without dishonoring the sacrifice of martyrs, church leaders also recognized that there were people of great faith who lived holy lives and died of natural causes. Those people were also worthy of being remembered and honored with a holiday. As the process of official recognition of saints became established within the church, there grew a need for expression of grief and gratitude for others who had not been officially recognized as saints. Over time, the days of recognition and appreciation for those who had died were gradually expanded to three significant holidays on three adjacent days. All Hallows’ Eve, or Halloween, was the last day of October and a day of preparation for All Saints’ Day, which followed. All Saints' Day was dedicated to the remembrance of those who had been officially recognized as saints of the church. November 2 is known as All Souls Day and commemorates all who have died in the faith.

A side theology of multiple paths to heaven emerged, including the concept of purgatory as a place of repentance for those who might not have lived an entirely holy life but were not beyond forgiveness and redemption.

After the Protestant Reformation and the division of our streams of faith, the part of the church in which I grew up abandoned the practice of official recognition of saints. It was argued that the institutional church did not control who was beloved by God and who was admitted to heaven. God is capable of welcoming all into the realm of love. From a protestant perspective, there are many more saints, some of whom are everyday people whose lives were not recognized by official processes or marked by official miracles. In our part of the church, we sing of all of the saints of God and include people from every walk of life. We aspire to live lives worthy of being remembered as well.

The distinction between All Saints and All Souls has faded in our part of the church. The congregation where we worship will recognize All Saints Day today and include in that recognition the naming of church members who have died in the previous year.

We all have been touched by grief. We all have known the experience of having someone we love die. We know that love does not die, but those we love do die from this life. And we remember them with grief and with thanksgiving for their lives. Despite talk of closure and getting over grief, our experience is that the death of a loved one changes us forever. Grief becomes a constant companion, not a phase that ends. We do not get over the loss of a loved one. We do, however, get through that loss. We continue to live. We continue to be capable of loving.

Yesterday I had a wonderful conversation with a friend at church. She has been a widow for three or four years. She is intimate with the journey of grief. And she is also a new grandmother. The death of her mate did not take love away from her life. She does not love her departed wife any less than she loved her when she was alive. She does not love her grandson any less than she loved her wife. Grief and the joy of new life are companions in her experience. There are times when I see tears in her eyes and do not know if they are tears of joy or tears of sadness. There are times when she cannot make that distinction. Like all of us, the tears of joy and sadness mix on our cheeks.

While I do not make a formal distinction between all saints and all souls, I do appreciate having several days to reflect on those who have died and on how they remain such an essential part of who we are. I grew up with the stories of those who died before I was born. My mother was one of five sisters. One of her sisters died as a teen, long before I was born, but I heard stories of her life and of how she was beloved by my mother and my other aunts. My maternal grandmother died before I was born, and my maternal grandfather died when I was a toddler. Those people were part of our family and our stories.

Like my mother, I experienced the death of a sister when I was in my teenage years. My father died before my son was born. My brother and my mother died before I became a grandfather. Another sister has since died. There have been many others: aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, friends. My experience of family is the experience of love and loss.

Experiences of love and loss also mark my journey in the church. In every congregation I served, I was called upon to officiate at the funerals of people who had been my friends. As I spoke to the congregation in the midst of their grief, I was swept up in my own grief. I learned to exert some control over my emotions, but I also knew that there is no shame in sharing grief in a public setting.

Today I celebrate. Whether it is called All Saints or All Souls, it is a holy day. It is a good day for tears of grief and tears of joy to mix on my cheeks.