A Devotion for All the Saints

אֵל מָלֵא רַחֲמִים שׁוֹכֵן בַּמְּרוֹמִים,
הַמְצֵא מְנוּחָה נְכוֹנָה עַל כַּנְפֵי הַשְּׁכִינָה,
בְּמַעֲלוֹת קְדוֹשִׁים וּטְהוֹרִים
כְּזוֹהַר הָרָקִיעַ מַזְהִירִים,
בורך טוב בן בלימע ושלמה אֶת נִשְׁמַת
שֶׁהָלַךְ לְעוֹלָמוֹ, בְּגַן עֵדֶן תְּהֵא מְנוּחָתוֹ.

“Compassionate Source of all that is/ who is present in the heavens/
take our loved ones under Your holy, pure and glorious wings that shine like the sky…”

These words of the “El Malei Rachamim,” (translated to mean “God full of compassion”) fell from the lips of Rabbi Myers, rabbi of Tree of Life Synagogue as he presided over a vigil on Monday evening. He sang for those murdered in his congregation, the 11 people slain as they attended a bris on the day of Shabbat (Sabbath) at Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh.

This tragedy was one of three atrocities of human violence that rattled our nation this week. Wednesday, a white man with a history of violence shot and killed two African-Americans, seemingly at random, at a Kentucky Kroger store following a failed attempt to barge into a black church.

On Friday, a suspect was arrested after mail bombs were being sent to people who'd been criticized by the President, -- a man who had railed against Democrats and minorities with hate-filled messages online.

These three demonstrations are painful signs of the racism, hatred, political polarization and utter pain and grief that seem to haunt our nation and world.

In our anger and in our pain, we turn to God and ask “why?” Why, O Lord? Our hearts are heavy and there seems no end to the pain. We question, and we weep – for our neighbors, our children, and for ourselves. We cry out to God like the prophet Jeremiah: “My joy is gone, grief is upon me, my heart is sick…I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me. Is there no balm in Gilead? (Jeremiah 8:18-21).

I’ve been thinking a great deal this week about what we as people of faith that call ourselves Christians can do and must do in the world we find ourselves in. What can we learn from our Jewish brothers and sisters? How can we be people that don’t just yearn for peace, but actually make it?

The three tragedies this week as my guide, I propose another three demonstrations. Instead of revenge or retribution, what if our response was to remember and rebuild?

The prayer that I began this email with is just one of the prayers that Jewish people pray in times of death and mourning. This traditional prayer, the El Malei Rachamim reflects the dual nature of the Jewish tradition’s response to tragedy: the profound significance of our thoughts and prayers, and the need for critical action.

To remember, we pray. We pray that the families of those dead and injured should know healing and comfort. We pray that our children should be safe. We pray that all places of worship, be they churches or synagogues or mosques, should be insulated from a violent world.

In our remembering, we name the dead. We mourn and grieve their absence here on earth, but we also give thanks for their legacy. This week in particular gives us a chance to do that as a gathered community of faith. This week, many Christians will celebrate All Saints Day. This day is an opportunity to give thanks for all those who have gone before us in the faith. All Saints (November 1 or the first Sunday in November) is a day of remembrance for the saints, with the New Testament meaning of all Christian people of every time and place. We celebrate the communion of saints as we remember the dead, both of the Church universal and of our local congregations. For this reason, the names of persons in the congregation who have died during the past year may be read aloud.

We do so because to name those who came before is to remind us that our faith is not our own. Rather, it sits on the shoulders who came before us. We remember the saints in our lives and we give thanks for the story of God acting in the lives of our foremothers and fathers.

These prayers and our acts of remembrance make up a crucial part of our response to tragedy. But there is another response that the El Maleh Rachamim signifies: namely, that of our deeds. We pledge that the legacies of those who died will instill in us the courage to make positive changes in our society and in the world. We pledge to take action to ensure that this kind of atrocity will not happen again.

There is a theological concept in the Jewish tradition known as tikkun olam—“repairing the world.” Tikkun olam is the idea that though the world is broken, it is not beyond repair—that it’s God’s intention to work through humanity in order to repair God’s creation.

Of course tikkun olam is properly a Jewish concept, but it is a Jewish concept that Christians can and should embrace. A Christian understanding of tikkun olam is that God is restoring all things through Jesus Christ. (Romans 8:19–21, Ephesians 1:20–23, Colossians 1:19–20).

As Christians, our response to the brokenness, the tragic and the sheer evil that we find around us cannot be to retreat or disengage, but rather to continue the work that the saints that have come before us have begun.

We pray, and we name the names of our beloved saints.

And then we work, we act, we move.

Both are faithful responses; together, they are acts of remembrance and resurrection. Our words and our bodies proclaim the restoration that can come only through God. They proclaim that death does not have the last word and that indeed the light cannot be overcome by darkness.

As we work to help communities recover, we must allow the space for remembrance as we rebuild. And we must name our grief, name our pain, and cry out to God the names of what and who we’ve lost.

And we must continue the work of tikkun olam, knowing that in Christ, all things will be made new.

“My cup overflows with love,” Rabbi Myers said at the vigil in Pittsburgh on Sunday, according to an account in The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. “That’s how you defeat hate.”

Friends, may our words, and our actions make peace. May they be balm to those who mourn and bricks of peace that build God’s Kingdom here on earth.

In the hope of Christ,

Chaplain Amy


A Prayer Meditation for All Saints Day

by Safiyah Fosua

We give you thanks, O God, for all the saints who ever worshiped you
Whether in brush arbors or cathedrals,
Weathered wooden churches or crumbling cement meeting houses
Where your name was lifted and adored.

We give you thanks, O God, for hands lifted in praise:
Manicured hands and hands stained with grease or soil,
Strong hands and those gnarled with age
Holy hands
Used as wave offerings across the land.

We thank you, God, for hardworking saints;
Whether hard-hatted or steel-booted,
Head ragged or aproned,
Blue-collared or three-piece-suited
They left their mark on the earth for you, for us, for our children to come.

Thank you, God, for the tremendous sacrifices made by those who have gone before us.
Bless the memories of your saints, God.
May we learn how to walk wisely from their examples of faith, dedication, worship, and love.