“Therefore, we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.”

Glory to Jesus Christ! Glory forever!

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

What is a saint, brethren? It seems like such a relevant question on a day like today: the Feast of All Saints. What is a “saint”? The word “saint” is the English derivative of the Latin sanctus, which comes from the verb sancÄ«re, “to consecrate.” To consecrate is “to hallow.” To be “hallowed” is to be “holy.” A saint is a “holy one, a consecrated one.” To be holy is not synonymous with “to be good.” We do not want to conflate moral perfection and holiness, although we may rightly say that the saints were holy—in part—on account of their moral perfection. Their moral goodness, when contrasted against a culture of hedonism, perversion, debauchery, is certainly indicative of their holiness. At its core, though, brethren, sainthood most presumes one quality: difference, “other-ness.” This is also the fundamental concept which underlies “consecration.” To consecrate something is to “set it apart,” for a particular use or purpose. It is “to distinguish, to differentiate.” A saint, therefore, is a person of distinction. And do not confuse distinction with honor. A saint is a person set apart by their godly character. And my oh my, what characters we do have in the long list of the saints of our Orthodox Faith.

What do you think of, brethren, when you conjure a mental image of an Orthodox saint? If it is a male saint, maybe… a long beard, a dispassionate face, an evangelist bearing a Gospel book, a martyr with cross in hand? If it is a female saint, maybe… the same dispassionate face, a modest posture, modest garb, a look of pious humility, head covered? When we look around the walls of our nave, we see many faces and forms resembling what I have just said: pious faces, courageous faces, passionless faces. There is nothing wrong with this. The iconographic representation of the saints inspires us to godliness, to a holy apathy, to contemplation and prayer. But it is very important to remember, brethren, that the saints are more than pictures on our walls and commemorations in our liturgy. The saints are alive. The saints are personal, meaning, the saints—just like you and me—had distinct personalities. They have unique histories. They have unique talents. They came out of diverse cultures and languages. They had personal struggles and temptations. The saints are not angelic. They are humans glorified in Christ by the grace of the Holy Spirit of God. They are humans deified, but nonetheless… they are human, with all the quirks, and qualms, and quarrels of humanity.

And this should be a great encouragement to us. The saints were and are human. And us—you and me—we are human. The saints were sinners, who then repented, were baptized, and were filled with the Holy Spirit. We are sinners, who have repented (and… still repent), have been baptized, and have been chrismated: sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit. The saints were holy people, consecrated people (by virtue of their chrismation); they were… a different sort of people, as we are reminded by the Apostle in today’s Epistle Reading:

“[They] who through faith subdued kingdoms, worked righteousness, … stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, … received their dead raised to life again. Others were tortured… . Still others had trial of mockings and scourgings, yes, and of chains and imprisonment. … They wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented—of whom the world was not worthy” (Heb 11:33-38).

The saints were different in a multitude of ways. They acted differently, yes. The saints are especially kind, especially charitable, especially forgiving. We know these stories; we know these accolades. But many of the saints are also just plain weird. If you would come across St. John the Baptist in the grocery store; hair unkempt, surely reeking to high heaven, a locust wing dangling off the corner of his beard, [if you met this man] would you say, “Hello”? Some of the saints feel very approachable, very familiar, and some just… don’t. As St. Paul says, some of our saints “wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented.” If you ran across St. Basil of Moscow, the Fool-for-Christ; or St. Xenia of St. Petersburg; or St. Simeon Stylites, would you recognize their holiness for what it is? Would you recognize their “other worldliness” or write them off as lunatics or fanatics as so many of their own generation did? So few of our Orthodox saints have the pedigree and testimony of St. Nicholas of Myra. By and large, we have more “sheepskins and goatskins” types than we do “subdued kingdoms and worked righteousness” types.

What great consolation it is, then, to us, brethren, to know that our fathers and mothers in the faith have so much in common with us. Let me say that again: what great consolation it is, then, to us, brethren, to know that our fathers and mothers in the faith have so much in common with us. They were sinners. We are sinners. They were ostracized, mocked, degraded. We are mocked and degraded. They were humiliated. We are humiliated. For this exact reason, St. Paul concludes his description of the saints in his Letter to the Hebrews with a prescription to the faithful:

“Therefore, we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith…” (Heb 12:1-2a).

Do you ever feel, brethren, as though this life is too much to bear, as though the weight of expectations—personal, cultural, occupational—is too much to bear? Do you feel like you are too different to “fit in,” that your friendships are superficial, that the world is just beating you down? Do you feel undervalued, underprivileged, deserted, mocked, despised, disrespected, unappreciated? Do you feel the crushing weight of sin and temptation, of moral failure; an inability to accomplish lasting personal, habitual reform? Do you indulge pleasure and shirk repentance? Do you fear repentance? Do you fear God? Do you doubt? Do you fail to serve, to help, to love as much as you believe you ought to as a member of the Body of Christ? Brethren: you are not alone. Read the lives of the saints. Yes, there you will find unimaginable acts of heroism and goodness. And there too you will find nigh unimaginable acts of depravity and lawlessness. All the saints were once sinners converted to the gospel of Jesus Christ through the grace of the Holy Spirit. All saints were once where you and I so often find ourselves. When we look at their lives, we may see reflections of ourselves. But when we look at their icons, we see here reflected the image of Christ. And we too, brethren, are icons of Christ.

“For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us” (2 Cor 4:6-7, emphases mine).

I began this homily by asking, “What is a saint?” Now I ask, brethren, “Who is a saint?” The pious and humble part of our person will quickly say, “Well, … St. Anna! St. Ignatius of Antioch! St. John Chrysostom! St. Basil the Great! Saint Paraskeva!” Yes, they are all saints. But what makes them saints? What hallows them? What consecrates them? Is it the Church? In a sense, yes. But is it merely the consensus of men? Who canonized St. Ignatius of Antioch, St. Polycarp of Smyrna, St. Clement of Rome? Who canonized the Apostles? Sainthood is not a matter of canonization. There are practical reasons for the local and global canonization and commemoration of saints. But rather, sainthood is a matter of spiritual consecration and corporate recognition. The Holy Spirit hallows. The Holy Spirit hallows. And the corporate Body of Christ affirms this consecration. Do you remember the words of the celebrant from your baptism? Do you remember the words of affirmation of sanctity which follows the sprinkling with water and the removal of the holy chrism?

“You are baptized. You are illumined. You have been Chrismated. You are sanctified. You are washed: in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. [Amen]” (Baptismal Service, OCA).

Who is baptized? You are baptized. Who is Chrismated? You are Chrismated. Who is sanctified? You are sanctified. Who then, brethren, is a saint of God? You, brethren, are the holy ones of God. Are you perfect? No, you are not perfect, and I am not perfect. And the saints, as they strove against fear and temptation were not perfect either. But they pursued holiness. They co-operated with God in the pursuit of holiness all the days of their lives. When they sinned, they repented. When they fell, they got up. They trusted in God—as we heard in today’s Epistle—to be the “author and finisher of [their] faith” (Heb 12:2, italics mine). Today, we commemorate All Saints, and in faith, we ask God to remember and to perfect all saints to be.

“Therefore, having these promises, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God” (2 Cor 7:1).

Through the prayers of our holy fathers and of all the Saints, O Lord Jesus Christ, our God, have mercy on us and save us. Amen.

Glory to Jesus Christ! Glory forever!