“Through the Veil of Light and Shadow” - 11/1/25

Scripture
“Since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” — Hebrews 12:1 (NIV)


Reflection
Last night, the streets shimmered with small footsteps and laughter. My daughters, eight and fourteen, joined the neighborhood procession, their costumes fluttering in the cool October air, their bags open wide for candy and delight. Parents walked nearby, guiding them along glowing sidewalks, while the fading light of autumn held the world in a golden hush.

This familiar celebration, Halloween, has ancient roots. Its name comes from All Hallows’ Eve, the night before All Saints’ Day, when early Christians remembered the faithful departed, those who had finished their earthly race and now rested in the peace of God. Long before pumpkins and sweets, there were prayers whispered in candlelight, bells rung for souls remembered, and the conviction that heaven and earth were closer than we think.

When we stand on this threshold between October’s dusk and November’s dawn, we find ourselves in sacred company. The costumes and candles, the laughter and the shadows, remind us that life itself is a passing mystery, a beautiful breath between dust and eternity.

On this All Saints’ Day, the Church gathers across centuries to remember the communion of saints: those whose love, prayers, and faith have shaped us. Some are named in our hymns and histories, such as Francis, Teresa, John, and Mary. Others are the quiet saints who walked beside us, a grandmother who prayed without ceasing, a teacher who listened deeply, a friend who carried light through their suffering. Their faith has become the foundation of ours, like invisible threads weaving us into one great tapestry of grace.

As we remember them, we also confront the fleeting nature of our own days. Scripture reminds us that our lives are like a vapor (James 4:14), like leaves that fall and are carried by the wind. Yet this brevity is not despair. It is an invitation. The shortness of life sharpens the soul’s gaze toward eternity. We are not merely passing through time. We are being formed for eternity in God’s realm, where love is never lost and death has no dominion.

To live as an eternal being is to live awake. It means seeing every encounter, every act of mercy, and every whispered prayer as part of God’s eternal heartbeat. The saints teach us that holiness is not perfection but devotion. It is the turning of the heart again and again toward the light, even when shadows fall.

Tonight, as the laughter of children fades into the quiet of November, imagine the saints around us. They are not far away, but near. They are unseen yet present, their faith still alive in ours. The veil between worlds is thin, and through it we glimpse the promise that we belong not only to the dust, but also to the eternal dwelling of God’s love.


Prayer
Eternal God,
You who hold time and eternity in Your hands,
We thank You for the saints who have gone before us,
for their faith that kindled ours,
for their love that still surrounds us.
Teach us to walk gently in this brief life,
to live as those who know the dawn of resurrection,
and to trust that every moment,
every breath,
is already held in Your eternal care.
Amen.