Rv 7:2-4, 9-14 | Ps 24 | 1 Jn 3:1-3 | Mt 5:1-12a

On this glorious feast of All Saints, our readings, cryptic as they may seem, provide us with a rather simple recipe for our sainthood. Sainthood isn’t about possessing secret knowledge or accomplishing marvelous deeds; rather, if our Scriptures are any indication, sainthood is all about our senses, all about listening to what’s right in front of us.

Preaching and commentaries on our first reading often focus on the sense of sight in the passage. Certain saints are “marked” with a seal. The multitude has had their clothing turned a brilliant white by washing in the blood of the Lamb. These are beautiful images, but let’s focus more on what we might hear, for the saints that John sees are—all of them—singers.

We have likely heard something along the lines: “If you have a good singing voice, you should sing loudly and proudly at Mass so that others will be inspired to join in with you. If you can’t carry a tune to save your life, you should sing twice as loud to punish God for not giving you a musical ear.” When a poor singer sings on his or her own, it’s often an unpleasant thing to hear. Put twenty bad singers together and, strangely enough, they don’t sound all that bad. Someone sings a little higher than they ought, another sings a little lower than they should, and it sort of balances out. Add a few good voices into the mix and it gets even better.

The way to sainthood is no different. We may have a vice or two that, in isolation, might make us feel unworthy or incapable of loving God and neighbor as we know we should. We may struggle with a particular sin, weakness, and shortcoming our entire life. However, when we add our solid efforts to those of the Christian community, when we add our voices to the greater song, we find that our life and our faith are valuable no matter how we “miss the mark.” We find that every voice added makes for a more beautiful sound. This is why our collective participation matters at each celebration: our shared dialogue throughout the liturgy, our singing, and even our observance of sacred silence. God deserves to hear the praise from God’s creation.

So, may I suggest that we ask ourselves the following on this holy day: Where do we hear the echoes of this song, this collective hymn, in our families and in our communities? Who are the ones who have drawn us into this ballad, helped us to find the courage to own the role we are obligated and privileged to bring when we have a bit of spiritual stage fright?

These are the saints of All Saints Day. Their names appear in no ledger in Rome, but their example and their faith live strongly in those of us who are gathered today. May we join them in their eternal hymn, not only in this Eucharistic celebration, but also in the lives of justice and mercy we are called to live each day, until that moment in which we draw our last breath.