Sermon for November 1, 2026, The Feast of All Saints

November 1, 2026, All Saints Sunday
By Kristin Berkey-Abbott




Matthew 5: 1-12





This passage is often called a preamble or an overture to the largest sermon that Jesus will give. Some scholars argue that these verses, commonly called the Beatitudes, are some of the most famous and familiar of all substantial Gospel passages.


In this Gospel, we see this upside down approach that Jesus will take, and we see it early in his ministry, here in chapter 5. Even though we’re at the beginning of his ministry, just after he calls the first four of his disciples, we see Jesus claim his authority: he’s speaking from a mountain, which is where God speaks to prophets like Moses, and he’s speaking from a seated position, which the most respected rabbis did. He makes the announcement that he will repeat throughout his ministry: the Kingdom of Heaven is breaking through into the worldly empire—and what a different reign it will be.



Those of us who grew up going to church have heard these Beatitudes over and over again and again throughout the years—and if you’re wondering what happened to the Woe to You Who Have Good Things now part, you’re remembering the version from Luke, not this version from Matthew. We may have lost sight of how strange the Beatitudes sound.


Even in the time of Jesus, the Beatitudes would have seemed counterintuitive. Blessed is a short hand way of saying that a person has found favor with God, and that God has given them something special to show that they have found favor with God. With that in mind, let’s return to the list of attributes that show a sign of God’s favor: those who are depressed, those who have lost loved ones, those who don’t brag, perhaps because they don’t have a reason to brag, and then at the end, those who are on the wrong side of their government.


In the ancient world, these are not signs of God’s favor. Ancient people would expect a sign of God’s favor to be something that elevates us: increased wealth or good health or being promoted by the king. And even today, this list seems counterintuitive. We live in a time that would offer a very different list of who the important and influential people are: those who control big companies or governments, the ones who star in movies, or on a smaller level, the ones who have the good jobs or the houses with lots of square footage on lots of acreage—and the resources necessary to maintain it all.


Even in religious circles, we see this idea. We are about 20 years past the peak of the prosperity gospel message, the books with variations of the God wants you to be rich titles, but the idea still lingers. If doors open for us, it must be because God ordained it.


This theology can also be seen in some of our popular slogans—like when God closes a door, God opens a window.


Of course, this theology comes with all sorts of problems, but here’s the main one. If the door doesn’t open and there’s no open window to be found, How will that impact our faith in God? If our prayers are not answered, does that mean our faith has been too shaky? How do we love a God who answers the prayers for deliverance for some people and not others?


Much of the Gospel of Matthew is written to an audience who would be asking similar questions, after Rome has brutally repressed their communities. There is good news in this teaching: the Kingdom of Heaven is not reserved for the powerful, which in the Gospel of Mattthew is the empire that taxes people so that they lose their lands, the empire that forces people into forced servitude, the empire that sends wealth back to Rome. God is to be found with those who have been broken, with those who have lost so much and cannot find their way out of mourning.


Jesus comes to tell us that the world’s ways are not God’s ways. Read this text one night as you watch T.V. and marvel at the difference in values. The world worships wealth and power. The world worships the kind of beauty impossible for most of us. The world worships those who boss the rest of us around. The world exalts those who trample on others to get what they want.


Our Gospel this week reminds us of God's rules, the way that we succeed in God's eyes. Our Gospel this week gives us God's promise that we will be comforted, that even though we may be meek in the eyes of the world, we will be filled with good things.


Today’s Gospel reminds us of how to act when we're turning to the ways of God. The middle verses, 6-10. These verses give instructions for how we can join together in the redemption of the world We are to treat ourselves and others with mercy, with compassion, with comfort. The text reminds us that just because we follow Jesus, our path will not be easy. On the contrary, we will likely face persecution. But Jesus promises us that we will be O.K., that we will find richer lives. This text tells us how we are to act and what we are to value.


Jesus comes to tell us that God is doing a new thing. In a world where mourners find no comfort, in a world where the meek get trampled further, and in a world where those who yearn for justice don’t live long enough to see it, Jesus comes to announce the upside down Kingdom of God that is breaking through right now. Jesus reminds us over and over again that worldly empires will make all sorts of promises that they have no intention of keeping. God’s covenant offers true life, true redemption, for us and for all of creation.


On this All Saints Sunday, let us commit again to the Kingdom of God, not the empires of this world. Let us draw inspiration from the saints who have gone on before us. Let us take comfort in the vision of the Kingdom of God, from the last verses of our first reading:

“For this reason they are before the throne of God
  and worship him day and night within his temple,
  and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them.
 16 They will hunger no more and thirst no more;
  the sun will not strike them,
  nor any scorching heat,
 17 for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd,
  and he will guide them to springs of the water of life,
 and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Halloween at the Abbey

This week I used 2 of my own poems in writing classrooms.  I wrote both of them when I thought of the first time I went to Mepkin Abbey in 2004.  Halloween was on a Sunday, and on both Saturday night and Sunday, we could see and hear trick-or-treaters across the river.  I also remember walking down the long drive with a friend at sunset; in the distance, we saw figures in white gowns.  We knew they were monks, but they had a ghostly presence.

I thought they might give us a blessing or a nugget of wisdom.  Instead one of them said, "Don't forget to vote on Tuesday and make sure you vote for the right one."

I wrote a poem with a lot of the elements from that first visit:

Autumn at the Abbey

I drove seven hundred miles from the tip
of Spanish speaking Florida to the Gullah drenched
lowcountry marsh.

I arose in the wee small hours of the morning
to drive up the spine of the state
with truckers and other insomniacs.

I saw the flaming
orange fields, the flickers
of light across the river.

I have eaten eggs from the chickens
raised by monks and been sprinkled
with holy water before bed.

I saw the baby Jesus
created from a
cornucopia of materials.

I harmonized with monks
and chanted my way through a quarter
of the Psalms.

I watched the monks at sunset
walking under Spanish moss draped
trees, ghosts from a different century.

---

Later I rewrote the poem and tried to make the Halloween elements more explicit:

All Hallows at the Abbey

I awoke very early to sing
lauds with the monks,
and then I set out for the river.

In the pre-sunrise mists that rose off the currents,
I would not have been surprised
to see a runaway slave.

In the afternoon, the fields flamed
orange and light winked
across the water.

I returned to the chapel to harmonize
with monks and chant
the Psalms that still speak to us.

As the sun sank, across the river, candles flickered
in carved pumpkins and costumed children participated
in a different ancient ritual.

As we walked to compline service, monks in white robes
walked under trees dripping with Spanish moss,

ghosts from a different century. 

---

I like them both, and what I like most is how the poem process captures the memory of that long ago visit for me.

All Sorts of Treats: Halloween for Christians

This post will offer no condemnation of witches or wizards. I’ve had fun at costume parties, and I have more than one happy childhood memory of trick-or-treating around my neighborhood. Still, I know that this holiday poses some interesting questions for Christians.

 It’s worth pointing out that when I was a child, in the 1970’s, this holiday was different.  I don't remember being able to buy costumes at a store; we assembled them out of what was on hand, usually our parents' clothes and make up and whatever we could construct (or what our mothers might sew).   Now Halloween is the second largest holiday in terms of what we spend on it, second only to Christmas. Candy, costumes, decorations, pumpkins: when you total what you spend on this holiday, you might be shocked.

Those of us with a social justice conscience must ask ourselves if this is the best use of our money. Even if you celebrate simply, you’ll likely spend a bundle on candy to give out to trick-or-treaters. In a year when we’re seeing one of the worst humanitarian crises in a century, as Syrian refugees and others fleeing the Middle East wash up on Europe's shores, we must ask if it’s ethical to spend our money this way. And the planet cannot afford too many more years of excess, whether it be candy wrappers or plastic/polyester (petroleum based, after all) costumes from stores.

There are ways to soothe that social justice concern. We could keep track of our spending and in November, we could send a donation that matches or exceeds our Halloween costs to an agency that tries to alleviate suffering, like Lutheran World Relief or ELCA World Hunger. We could make our decorations: instead of buying strings of orange lights that come from China, we could buy pumpkins from the local church that uses the pumpkin patch to fund education programs, and we could support local farmers when we buy mums which last until the poinsettias make an appearance. For that matter, we could decide to make our costumes instead of paying top dollar for flimsy costumes from the store.

We could spend some time thinking about those costumes and the human desire to transform ourselves into someone else. If we want to inject some deeper thought into our holiday, we could ask ourselves about the deeper meaning behind our costumes, if there is one. If we want to take a theological turn, we could spend some time considering the way we’d like to be transformed, and the promises of transformation that our triune God has made to humanity and all of creation.

We could also think of Halloween themes and the yearnings of our human hearts. Why are we so in love with vampires right now? Do we long for eternal life? What differences in the eternal life scenario are offered by vampires and by Christ? Or what do zombies tell us about our culture?  If we choose a superhero costume, what do we long for: flight, strength, invisibility, cool gadgets? Do we want transformation for ourselves or are we hoping for a savior? Again, we might think about the salvation narratives offered by superhero tales and that of our own Christian tradition.

Halloween also offers an interesting opportunity to think about the issues of good and evil. So many Halloween narratives essentially boil down to a good versus evil theme. How do these themes mesh with Christian narratives?

So, as a Christian with a conscience, I'd wish us all a happy Halloween. May we discover what haunts us and be blessed with a waking dream of how to banish the ghouls that prevent us from the life that God would want us to have.

Past Pumpkin Patch -- with Labyrinth

These waning days of pumpkin patches makes me think of past experiences.  Back in 2013, I wrote the following post, which continues to be one of my pumpkin-themed favorites:

Walking the Pumpkin Labyrinth

Yesterday I got to my church early to help set up for the Fall Festival we were having.  I wasn't really needed, so I walked over to our pumpkin patch. 

We've sold a lot of pumpkins since we unloaded the truck 9 days ago!  There were pathways through the pumpkin piles, so I walked slowly, dare I say, meditatively.

I thought about how similar it was to walking a labyrinth--and how different.  The main difference, of course, is that a labyrinth goes in a set pattern so that there's one way in to the center, no matter how much the walker winds around the center.  The pumpkin patch didn't have that quality.

It was an interesting difference, to stand and see all the pathways open to me.  In many ways, that felt more like real life.  Each path seemed equally appealing--again, like real life.

I have always envied people who have one pressing path, the way they know they are supposed to go.  I admire people who don't let themselves get distracted by all the other possibilities.  I do wonder if they get to a point in life where they feel some sorrow about all the experiences that their singlemindedness denied them.

As I walked the pumpkin "labyrinth," every so often I caught a whiff of the pumpkins themselves.  You may not think that pumpkins have a smell, but after spending 3 hours carrying them during the offload from the truck, I'm here to report that they do.  I found that organic smell to be wonderful.

There were also places where I could tell that a pumpkin had met its end.  Here and there were piles of seeds and pumpkin muck.  And some of the pumpkins are not far from descending into decay and rot.  I haven't walked a labyrinth that has such explicit reminders of mortality, but it seemed appropriate.

As I walked amidst the pumpkins, I thought about the wonderful diversity in the pumpkin world, and the wonderful diversity in other populations.  I thought about how a pumpkin looks like a head. 

I thought about the role of pumpkins in our culture, how strange our ancestors would find it that we take a gourd that takes so long to grow and carve faces into it.  They'd probably see it as a terrible waste of a nutritious food. 

I thought about the wonderful holiday special, "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown."  I thought about the sincere pumpkin patch we've created on the front lawn of the church.

Our front lawn is on a very busy corner, 72nd Avenue and Pines Blvd., with the south campus of Broward College across the street.  One night, a drunk driver plowed into our pumpkin patch.  Thankfully, it was very late and no one was shopping for pumpkins.  Some of us still have nightmares about how it could have been much more terrible.

As I walked, the sun was beginning to get high enough that we could all see it.  Soon the air would turn hot again, but I still had a few minutes to enjoy the slightly cooler air.  Part of me wanted to sit on a pumpkin and ponder, but I liked the act of walking to each pumpkin pile and paying a mental tribute.  I liked the serenity that came to my brain from walking slowly and with purpose through the pumpkins.

Soon it was time to go to spin class and to use physicality in a different way.  Both experiences left me with a sense of calm.  But the pumpkin patch left me with a sense of awe.

The Feast Day of Saint Simon and Saint Jude

 Today we celebrate the lives of Saint Simon and Saint Jude--two of the disciples about whom we really don't know much.  

Jude was the disciple called Judas, but not Judas Iscariot, so some traditions shorten the name.  The Gospels of Matthew and Mark call him Thaddeus.  Once we thought he wrote the book of Jude in the New Testament, but now, scholars don't.  He is known as the patron saint of lost causes and hopeless situations--and hospital workers.

Simon isn't Simon Peter, but Simon the Zealot.  The Zealots were a subset of the Jewish people who were nationalist in the extreme.  Perhaps they are an offshoot of the Maccabees or maybe they were a more simple form of terrorist, rising up against the Romans for any variety of reasons.  He is the patron saint of curriers, woodcutters, and tanners.

We celebrate them together because tradition has it that they travelled together as missionaries.  Tradition tells us, but not many original sources.  Were they really martyred in Persia?  That's the most widespread tradition, but there are others that say Armenia, Britain, Egypt, and points in between.

When I contemplate the 12 original disciples, I'm struck by the wide variety of people called by Jesus.  I'm amazed at how Jesus could keep them a cohesive group--and when he didn't, it still worked anyway.  That gives me hope for today.

Meditation on This Sunday's Gospel for All Saints

 The All Saints Sunday readings for Sunday, Nov. 1, 2026:

First Reading: Revelation 7:9-17

Psalm: Psalm 34:1-10, 22

Second Reading: 1 John 3:1-3

Gospel: Matthew 5:1-12

This Sunday we celebrate All Saints Day. Most churches focus on loved ones of the congregation who have died; some churches give special emphasis to members who have died since the last All Saints Day. Some churches will be thinking about the larger collection of saints.

The Gospel reading for today at first seems jarringly out of place. Why are we back to the Sermon on the Mount? But after reading it, we see the connections. These are the behaviors of those whom we traditionally consider saints, people like Mother Theresa. They should be the behaviors of those of us still on earth who consider ourselves to be part of that saintly pantheon.

When we read Gospels like these, many of us might think that we do these things as our admission ticket for Heaven. But some of the more interesting books of theology that I've read lately remind us that Christ didn't come to take us to Heaven. In fact, the concept of Heaven with all our loved ones waiting for us there is relatively new to Christian thought. Christ came to announce that God's plan for redeeming the world had begun. That plan involves our pre-death world, which is not just a place where we wait around until it's our turn to go to Heaven. No, this world is the one that God wants to redeem. Christ comes to invite us to be part of the redemptive plan.

Jesus comes to give us instructions for how we can join together in the redemption of the world. Think of the Sermon on the Mount as a behavior manual. As you move through your days, view your actions and your thoughts through the lens of the Sermon on the Mount. Do your thoughts and actions support this vision of peace, justice, mercy, and comfort? If not, how can you change to be more in alignment with God's vision of redemption?

We could use this All Saints Day as a reminder that we need to jump start our efforts to act as saints in this world. If that behavior means that we also get to be saints in the next world, swell.

But the good news of Jesus is that we don't have to wait until we die to experience redemption. We're already saints. We just need to remember to be about the business of sainthood, and to avoid the behaviors that distract us from our mission.

Recording of Reformation Sunday

We had a good Reformation Sunday at Faith Lutheran.  When I started writing my sermon, I wanted to show all the ways that Luther reformed the Church, not just the anti-indulgence, anti-corruption ways.  Yesterday afternoon, I thought of other ideas I could have included.  But overall, I think my sermon went well.  It was a high energy day at church, coming off of a successful Chili Fest on Saturday.

You can watch the sermon here on my YouTube channel.  If you want to read along, I posted the manuscript in this blog post.