Everything is temporary
Sermon by Pr. Craig Mueller on All Saints Sunday + Sunday, November 2, 2025.
I still remember the phone call. Last Thanksgiving night. Mike called to say that his wife, Theresa, had died unexpectedly her sleep. Theresa, my friend of thirty years. Mike was the one who had health challenges and I was certain Theresa would outlive him.
Theresa had been with me through thick and thin, highs and lows. She was a therapist and I felt I was getting free therapy at times, or at least wisdom. When I would worry about something in the future, she would say, “you don’t know. It’s not good to awfulize.”
The summer before Theresa died she was drawn to the theme, “everything is temporary,” perhaps connected to some of her dabbling in Buddhism. She had a button that said, “everything is temporary.” She was reflecting on the news, but had no idea that her life was in its final months. Cycles and seasons. Everything changes.
On All Saints Sunday we remember the well-known saints through the ages. And also those dear to us who have died. We hold both grief and gratitude in our hearts. Some churches have a dozen or more funerals a year. Our average is 1.2 per year. This past year our beloved member Michael Schnell died, after a long goodbye due to Alzheimer’s. We remember Mike’s faithfulness and his fastidious sense of detail. He had the most complete funeral plans I had ever seen.
Today we remember our departed dear ones in several ways. During communion or after the service you may go to the back of the church to light a candle in memory of someone dear to you. You may sign one or more names in the book of remembrance. During the prayers we will say aloud, together, filling the space, with the names of those who have gone before us. And during communion the saints will gather with us around the table. Former member Louise Goos would say that she could imagine her departed family members around the altar at the time of communion. Everything is temporary. But our bonds of love and friendship endure and never end. We don’t just carry memories, but the real presence of those we have lost but still live on.
Our readings also speak of what is temporary and what is eternal. In Daniel we are reminded that kings come and go. But love will win over oppression. The saints will be victorious and dwell forever in God’s realm.
The beatitudes remind us of the reversals in the reign of God. Weeping will be temporary. It leads to laughter. The hungry will be filled. And the poor are the ones who receive the kingdom of God. We think of saints who lived these radical reversals: Martin of Tours, Francis of Assisi, Mother Theresa.
Perhaps it is nature that most reveals that everything is temporary. That there is always change as the seasons come and go. The beautiful oranges, reds, and yellows bear witness to this. The leaves are most beautiful before they die. And this time of year—around November 1—is considered a thin space in Celtic and other ancient spiritualities. The light is filtered. The veil is thin between heaven and earth. And even Halloween traditions reveal that these days raise our hearts and minds to things things unseen. Souls and spirits. Life after death. Everything is temporary.
Orthodox spirituality speaks of “bright sadness” for Lent. For some these days are melancholy. Everything is temporary. Winter is coming. Life is filled with both beauty and loss.
Mary Oliver says this so poignantly in a poem inspired by her walks in the autumn woods. Oliver: Blackwater woods. To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your own bones knowing your own life depends on it; and when the time comes, to let it go, to let it go.
One of my favorites autumn books is The Fall of Freddie the Leaf. Freddie and his leaf friends delight in the joy of summer and the joy their shade brings to people. But as the air turns colder, they begin to change their color. Some are purple, red, yellow, orange and brown. Each has experienced the sun and the elements in different ways. Freddie is told that it is called death when the leaves fall from the trees. Freddie watches other leaves fall, and finally it is his time. As he falls he sees the entire tree for the first time. He doesn’t know how his life will live on. His useless dried self will join with the water to make the tree stronger. Spring will come. New life will come.
Last month the world lost a remarkable, wise, talented woman. Jane Goodall died at 91. She recorded an interview, knowing we would hear her words after she died. As she speaks from the place she is now, here are few of her words. “What message do I want to leave? Your life matters and you are here for a reason. I just hope that you understand that this life on Planet Earth isn’t the end. I believe, and now I know, that there is life beyond death. That consciousness survives. We are part of Planet Earth, we are part of Mother Nature. And as we destroy one ecosystem after another, as we create worse climate change, worse loss of diversity, we have to do everything in our power to make the world a better place for the children alive today, and for those that will follow. And even today, when the planet is dark, there still is hope. Don’t lose hope.”
Everything is temporary. Yet here we gather around things that are eternal. The love of God. We gather with the saints at the river, the baptismal font. We gather with the saints at the table, the feast of victory for our God. The promise of spring. The death and resurrection of Christ. And even in these dark, challenging days, there is hope.
