Can Remembering the Saints Lessen Election Anxiety?

On pastoring through Halloween and All Saints

Thinking about the saints a lot this week. Just yesterday, we paid off the final portion of our church shower project. We were able to do so because of a significant bequest one of our members made as part of his estate planning. I imagine him smiling with his sly grin when he learns (now in his eternal rest) we’re no longer paying interest on that loan.

I’ve also been thinking about my grandpa, a Republican state legislator in Iowa, who I believe would find the Republican party of 2024 entirely unrecognizable. I wonder where those Republicans went… and then I go back to thinking about my grandpa. I remember him sitting in his downstairs office after chores, going over papers as we looked out at the corn field in the back yard. I don’t know if he was reviewing bills or BILLS. Either way, I miss him.

Yet another saint, the oldest member of our church until he died a few months back, was renowned in our community for many things, not the least of which was his support of the University of Arkansas rowing team. I think he volunteered as a coxswain into his 90s! Each time I get out on a run, I’m inspired by his persistence in staying physically active into his 100s.

Two other saints, both of whom died after much life lived with cancer, have been on my mind this past month as I took time to have coffee with their widows. I’m reminded how life moves on, often in significant ways, and yet we carry those who have died with us as “living memories,” truly present in spiritually important ways that guide our daily actions and thoughts.

Finally, I’m reminded of one other nonagenarian we entrusted to God’s mercy and care this past year, whose spouse told me recently via text, “Jehovah witnesses didn’t want to pray with me for on going success of our Queer Camp. They almost knocked each other over trying to get back in their car.”

The saints will surprise you.

This week we observe Halloween, a holiday that seems to have emerged as a strong consumerist competitor to Christmas.

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love Halloween, from the pageantry to the jump scares to the candy (especially the candy). Just this past Sunday we hosted our annual Queer Camp affiliated Halloween party (which serves as a kind of reunion from summer camp), and I had the chance to sit for a Tarot reading, each far too much junk food, and get good and scared in a miniature haunted house designed by the campers. Thursday I’m as thrilled as anyone to head out with the kids for the annual circumnavigation of the neighborhood (though bummed I can’t light a bonfire because of a burn ban).

The days following Halloween are, in Christian tradition, profoundly rich in spiritual meaning, poignant time for personal grief, and largely over-shadowed by Halloween itself. Friday is All Saints, the day we remember ALL the saints, especially those who have died in the past year but also any and everyone remembered by us and by God.

I wonder especially this year if anyone has the energy or attention to adequately observe them. Our nerves are so raw with this election.

I figure the best I can do right now is write down some of these thoughts, remember the saints in these particular ways, and remind all of us to call to mind those we love who have died and now rest with God. We’ll observe All Saints on Sunday also, lighting candles and remembering. I’m hoping such pauses with the saints will strengthen all our frayed spirits as we wait in a dread of unknown.

The saints trusted God. Perhaps so can we.