All Saints Day & The Need to Remember

November 1 is All Saints Day (or All Hallows Day). The Day of the Dead is a similar holiday celebrated in Mexico at this same time. These traditions were completely foreign to me for much of my life.

I grew up on an "island of Christianity" known as Churches of Christ. It was a great space for developing my faith and character. People poured so much into me, and I felt acceptance, trust, and belonging in that space. I love what the church has provided for my life.

In the 1990s, many of us discovered the mainland of Christianity. I always knew it was there, but I had learned to consider it dangerous territory not worthy of exploring. That's how sectarianism survives: taking good care of you on the island while scaring you about anything off the island. 

I had the chance to increasingly explore the world of Christianity outside my protected upbringing. To my amazement, I discovered rich and vibrant faith. Yes, I also saw challenges and weaknesses, but who is exempt from those?

I was a novice to the broader world of Christianity when I first moved to Czechoslovakia in 1990. I recall being dragged by Dr. Václav Huňáček to a graveyard on November 1. He was a professor of Czech and Slavic culture at Charles University. He took us to Prague's Slavín cemetery up by the ruins of Vyšehrad castle. Since he knew we were Christians, he merely assumed (incorrectly) that we understood what All Saints Day was. He quickly toured us past stones marking the burial plots for famous composers, writers, scientists, politicians and the like.

The cemetery was packed with people decorating graves and lighting candles. I was curious about the history but had no real clue why people were walking through the grave markers in the pre-dusk hours on that cold November afternoon. Why were they lighting candles and leaving them to burn out on the cold tombstones? What was the meaning of all this?

I was initially dismissive. My upbringing had taught me to be skeptical of "superstitious" practices, and this seemed to fit the bill. This kind of faith practice seemed far from the "biblical Christianity" I believed in. But I've come to appreciate what this kind of practice might mean for me.

As North American Christians, we are often people short on memory. Our society has a 'what-have-you-done-for-me-lately' mindset. We belittle things by saying, "Oh, that's history." As if history should be dismissed.

We so quickly want to forget the wrongs and rights of yesterday as though they mean nothing. We wish to act as if the problems of yesterday aren't our problems, or that the successes of last year shouldn't be continually celebrated. We are intentional amnesiacs, and this isn't healthy.

As William Faulkner tried to remind us, "The past is never dead. It's not even past." Or as another wise person said, "Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it."

I love the movie Coco. I cried as I recently watched it on an airplane. It brings the Mexican celebration of Día de los Muertos into focus as less about superstition and more about remembering your heritage. What's wrong with that? How is that opposed to the Christian faith?

I've come to treasure my heritage. I don't want to forget my grandparents, my dad, or the church that raised me or the others who have gone before me. And when I am gone, I don't want to be forgotten. The need to remember should be central to a vibrant faith that lives on through the generations.

This brings me back to the "island of Christianity" where my faith took roots and grew up. I'm so thankful for all the people who have invested in me over the years. They don't deserve to be forgotten. I am so blessed to have All Saints Day as a day to intentionally remember my heritage.

So what will you do? Will you gather in the growing darkness of dusk, on a brisk afternoon, to pause at tombstones and remember those who have gone before? Will you perhaps light a candle in their memory? Most importantly, do you remember those who have gone before?