On All Saints’ Day, we are invited to see as God sees—to recognize the web of love that binds us to the saints, to one another, and to all creation. Remembering last week’s creation-centered Eucharist at Linwood, this sermon explores how the communion of saints mirrors the living, interconnected world beneath our feet. To be a saint is to live as one who is seen, to see with love, and to let that love flow through us for the life of the world.

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All Saints is a day of seeing—
seeing the great cloud of witnesses,
seeing God’s faithfulness across generations,
and remembering that we, too, are seen, known, and called by name. This day is about remembering that our lives are knit together— across time, across generations, across the veil between life and death.
Last Sunday morning, a group of us celebrated a creation-centered Eucharist at Linwood Nature Preserve.
We prayed with a vast living network—
roots, fungi, soil communicating beneath our feet…
trees sensing which neighbors are struggling
and sending them what they need to survive.
What seems separate is, in reality, one living communion.
The readings today invite us to see differently…to let our vision be changed. Daniel is given a terrifying vision of beasts and chaos—
a reminder of how the world can appear: violent, uncertain.
But even in that vision, he’s told:
“The holy ones of the Most High shall receive the kingdom.”
Among the beasts, amid the chaos, there is promise—
God sees the faithful, and the faithful will inherit God’s peace.
All Saints is about that promise: that God sees God’s people— not just the famous ones remembered in stained glass,
but the ordinary ones in pews, in pulpits, our homes, our memories— and calls them beloved.
Paul’s prayer to the Church in Ephesus picks up the same theme: “I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened,
in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you.” “Eyes of the heart”…spiritual vision…learning to see the world as God sees it. To see blessing where others see poverty.
To see hope where others see despair.
To see Christ holding all things together.
The saints are those who learned to see with the eyes of the heart: some through joy, some through suffering, all through faith.
And even more — they were seen.
God knew them.
God named them.
God worked through them to make God’s love visible in the world.
The eyes of the heart don’t just help us see differently:
they help us feel our connectedness.
We are seen.
We are known.
We are called to be saints—not because we are perfect, but by God’s grace.
In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus blesses those the world overlooks:
those who are poor, those who hunger, those who grieve.
They may not be the folks the world celebrates,
but Jesus sees them.
He blesses them.
He names their worth.
In God’s kingdom, seeing is transformed:
we no longer measure worth by wealth, titles, or image,
but by the eyes of Christ, who looks with love and mercy.
And then Jesus calls us to live what we’ve seen:
“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,
bless those who curse you.”
This is the vision of the saints —
to see with love when the world gives reason to hate,
to respond to wounds with blessing,
to mirror the mercy of the One who has seen and loved us first. Like the forest, our healing and our hope are always intertwined.
So today, as we name the saints—
remembering those who have gone before us
and seeing those still beside us—
we give thanks that God’s gaze has never wavered.
God saw them in their struggles,
God sees us in ours,
and God promises that, in the end, we will all see face to face.
In Daniel’s vision, the beasts rise and fall, but the saints inherit the kingdom. Paul prays that we might see that inheritance even now.
And Jesus tells us what it looks like when we live as people who see and are seen: people who love, forgive, and bless
because we have first been loved, forgiven, and blessed.
To be a saint is to live seen —
and to see others as part of the same living communion.
To know that God has looked upon you with mercy,
and to let that mercy shape how you look upon yourself and others. The saints show us what it means to be connected, like the forest: to let the life of God flow through us with compassion,
to send strength where it is needed,
to draw hope from the roots of faith that run deep beneath all of us.
May the eyes of our hearts be opened.
May we learn to see as Christ sees.
May we live so that others might know they are seen, loved, and blessed.
Nothing in God’s creation is isolated.
Even death cannot sever what divine love binds together.
“The holy ones of the Most High shall receive the kingdom.”
“The eyes of your hearts enlightened.”
“Blessed are you…”
You are seen.
You are beloved.
You are called to a new way of seeing.
Amen.