This was originally published in 2018 for our (then) parish blog. It has been altered and updated for St. David’s by the Sea Episcopal Church where I now serve as Rector.

Memory and thanksgiving. They are part and parcel of the Christian life, friends. One could sum up the whole of Israel’s life in the Old Testament and the life of the early church with these two words. We are a people of memory and a people who give thanks to God for what he has given us. Is this not why we gather on Sunday mornings? This is heightened or brought into sharper focus during the two-day celebration of All Saints (Nov 1) and All Souls (Nov 2).

All Saints

The Feast of All Saints is a time for the church to gather and celebrate those who have gone before us in the faith. On All Saints we look beyond the borders of both denominational distinctions and chronological time in order to bear witness to the great cloud of witnesses. The Collect for All Saints begins, “you have knit together your elect in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of your Son Christ our Lord.” We join our voices with the mystical body across both time and space when we sing, “Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of power and might” at the beginning of the Eucharist.

You have heard it said before, and you will hear it said again: you cannot be a Christian in a vacuum. It takes a church to be a Christian, it takes the body of Christ to grow, shape, form, and nurture a Christian in godly living. The fellowship we have at St. David’s is a foretaste of the glory divine we will be sharing with every saint who has gone before and who shall come after.

The liturgy for All Saints makes clear that our celebration is directed toward an expectation: that we would follow the saints in “all virtuous and godly living.” The example laid before us over the last two millennia of the church is vast, deep, and wide. Part of the beauty of All Saints is that we recall those who have preceded us, and in so doing, bring them into the present that we might learn from them. Our creedal proclamation of believing in the “one holy catholic and apostolic church” is more fully realized on All Saints Day.

All Souls

All Souls – or sometimes known as All Faithful Departed – is the day set aside for us to give specific thanks for those who have recently died in the Lord. This year we remember in particular John Rockefeller, Gary Tharp, and others who have died in the last year. Several others remember family members they’ve lost this year. The beauty of All Souls is that we have a time set aside to celebrate their lives and memories together.

If I may move from blogging to meddling: do not go through All Souls alone. Anniversaries of death can be particularly painful, and as I’ve already mentioned, being a Christian is not a solitary activity. I urge you to corporately give thanks for those who have died by reaching out to their loved ones and friends. Send a text or an email, make a phone call, go and see someone: do it together!

On this day, as with every other day, we boldly proclaim that we are a people of hope. The reading from 1 Corinthians 15 – commonly used on All Souls – solidifies this as we read, “Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” Through the death and resurrection of Jesus we have become a people who know that death does not have the last word, that Life will be victorious, and that Jesus has trampled down death. May our grief and sorrow be turned to joy on this day as we remember our loved ones and await the fullness of the coming kingdom.  

All Saints and All Souls remind us that we are not alone. The Christian life can feel lonely and arduous at times, but we have the many examples of saints and fellow sojourners who can teach us and guide us through the harder times and rocky paths. The focal point of our thanksgiving and memory is always the same: our triune God. We might recall individuals, but we do so as part of worshipping Almighty God from whom all good things and blessings flow.

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This post was originally published on my former blog, “The Liturgical Theologian.” It can be read in full here.

O God, whose blessed Son made himself known to his disciples in the breaking of bread: Open the eyes of our faith, that we may behold him in all his redeeming work; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

As I was preparing my sermon notes for the Third Sunday of Easter, I was struck by the Collect. It recounts how the Risen Lord revealed himself to his followers through the breaking of bread. Specifically, though not exclusively, this is a reference to Luke 24 when Jesus walked the road to Emmaus with two disciples, who did not recognize him until he took, blessed, broke and gave them bread. I think the revelation of Jesus through the breaking of bread and our weekly celebration of the Eucharist calls us to something great.

We are called to the Eucharistic Life.

New Testament Witness

Every biblical account of the Eucharist provides the same basic structure: bread was takenthanks was given, the bread was broken and then given.

The Synoptic (Matthew, Mark, Luke) accounts of the Last Supper are similar, but John’s Gospel does not contain the Last Supper; instead John connects Jesus’ words of institution with the feeding of the 5,000. In this story he “took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them.” Jesus then says, “I am the bread of life,” which Paul Bradshaw explains as a possible variation of “This is my body.” He writes, “Several scholars have already suggested that this latter statement is John’s version of the saying over the bread at the Last Supper.” (Bradshaw, Reconstructing Early Christian Worship,p. 4)

In 1 Corinthians 11 recounts Jesus’ words and actions during the Last Supper. Paul records that which had been handed down to him. Paul places the meal in the context of the crucifixion and resurrection: “On the night he was betrayed…Jesus took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said…” This summary has provided the foundation for Eucharistic prayers since the time of the Didache and The Apostolic Tradition.

The same structure was recorded in Acts 27 when Paul celebrated the Eucharist as he was sailing to Rome as a prisoner.

During the Last Supper, Jesus instituted four key actions (and corresponding words) that have been modeled and replicated in Eucharistic offerings for 2,000 years. These four words form the foundation of the Eucharistic life.

The Eucharistic Life

If the Eucharist is both “the sacrament of the Kingdom” (Schmemann, The Eucharistp. 28) and the sacrament that constitutes the church, and if in the Eucharist the church is not doing church but is doing the world the way it was meant to be done (combination of Alexander Schmemann and Aidan Kavanagh) then the Eucharist has meaning for the entirety of our lives. To live the Eucharistic life is to live a life that is taken, thanks-given, broken, and shared.

Taken

“Take my life and let it be,” O Lord! We offer our lives up unto the Lord that he might take them, consecrate them, and send us out with purpose. The act of offering is an act surrender and reverent submission to the triune God.

The Eucharistic life offers not just us but creation as well. Jesus took the bread and the wine, the most common food and drink in the world, and in so doing he celebrated the goodness of God’s creation. He did not comment about the nature or quality of the bread and wine, nor did he suggest that they were somehow bad because they were material. Instead he took the elements and transformed them in an act of oblation. “All things come of thee, O LORD, and of thine own have we given thee.” We are called to stewardship in God’s Kingdom as we recognize that God is the creator, sustainer and owner of all things.

Thanks-given

Eucharisteo means “the giving of thanks.” The Eucharistic life is one that recognizes the kindness and generosity of God in all things; it is a life that overflows with gratitude for God’s redeeming work throughout human history and above all in Jesus. In both the Eucharist and the Eucharistic Life we celebrate “the memorial of our redemption,” through our “sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving.” Our very lives proclaim the grace of God which leads us to a lifestyle flavored with gratitude, thanksgiving, and adoration. May we be the kind of people for whom the Doxology is ever on our lips. “Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Praise him all creatures here below. Praise him above ye heavenly host. Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.”

Broken

Brokenness always comes with a purpose. Christ was broken that we might share in his eternal life and kingdom. We are broken that Christ may live in us. The bread was broken and the wine poured out that all may share in the feast. “Christ our Passover has been sacrificed for us. Therefore let us keep the Feast.” Jesus taught that a kernel must fall to the ground and die that it may be opened up and give new life.

To be broken does not require tragedy or great loss—indeed I pray that you never have to suffer such sadness. Rather, to be broken is to daily die to self and to rise to life in Christ; it is to pray that the Holy Spirit would convict us of our sinfulness and transform us daily into Christ’s likeness. It is to walk humbly before our God. It is to show the world that the only reason we can be an Easter people singing “Alleluia” is because we were first a Good Friday people shouting “Crucify him!” (Pope John Paul II)

Shared

When we live the Eucharistic Life, our desire to share the Good News flows from our gratitude. It is to be always pointing people back to the One who is worthy of our praise and thanksgiving. We are distributed to the corners of the earth that others may, “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” We are shared not for our own glory but for the glory of God and for the life of the world.

The Eucharistic life is not for the faint of heart. We go back to the Altar weekly to partake of Christ’s self-oblation that we might receive spiritual nourishment and encouragement for the pilgrimage that we might:

Serve them with the very substance of your life. Paint them a picture of the Kingdom, weave them a shawl of love, sing them a Psalm of praise, write them a sonnet of promise, play them a symphony of grace, build them homes of compassion, mold them a pot of mercy. Demonstrate the Resurrection to them with your words and your actions to tell them that He loves them.

– The Rev. Canon Ellis E. Brust, Church of the Apostles, Kansas City

Jesus’ life was taken by God and consecrated. It was a life that constantly gave thanks to the Creator. It was a life broken by sin and the cross. It was a life shared with all that we might come to know God. The call of discipleship is the call to follow Him and live the Eucharistic Life.