Hello my friends,

I can't believe it is already November. This year has moved slower and faster than I expected all at the same time. My prayers are with us all and our country as midterms approach. I hope for peace and for a brighter future ahead than the days we have been enduring together. I pray that no matter what happens, we will continue to lift our voices for the voiceless, the poor, the immigrant, and the marginalized.

Today I wanted to invite you to reflect on All Soul's Day, which is a time of remembering and grieving those who have died the year prior, traditionally observed on November 1st. I want to do this through the lens of Jesus' beatitudes and see the world he envisioned for us, especially for the poor and the suffering. I hope you find this reflection encouraging and helpful.

Recommended Resources:

​-The Dance of the Dead by Throughline. My favorite history podcast has an enlightening episode on the historical origins and Christian roots of Halloween and All Souls Day. If you haven't had a chance to give it a listen, I think you'd enjoy doing so.

​-Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I've Loved by Kate Bowler. This book has been so helpful to many, especially as they navigate grief and the question of why God would allow bad things to happen. If you haven't had a chance to read it, I'd encourage you to do so.

​-It's Ok That You're Not Ok: Meeting Grief and Loss in a Culture That Doesn't Understand by Megan Devine. When a painful loss or life-shattering event upends your world, here is the first thing to know: there is nothing wrong with grief. "Grief is simply love in its most wild and painful form," says Megan Devine. "It is a natural and sane response to loss." So, why does our culture treat grief like a disease to be cured as quickly as possible? This book has been recommended to me often so I thought I would put it on your radar as well.

-Solace: The Birth of Hope in a Time of Longing.​
On November 29th, the season of Advent begins. Last year, I wrote a daily devotional for Advent that takes you through every day of Advent and concludes Christmas day. It is an ebook and I have formatted it to be read on any devise you choose. You can read more about it below.

$20.00 Solace: The Birth of Hope in a Time of Longing This devotional is an ebook, crafted as a daily scripture readings and reflections that begin on the First Sunday of... Read more Get it now!

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Remember The Dead.

Matthew 5:1-12

Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them.

He said:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.

Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

A Quick History

Early in church history, Christian communities held special gatherings to remember and grieve those they had lost. Over time, this practice spread throughout the church until, finally, in 735, Pope Gregory III set November 1st as the official date to commemorate the saints and martyrs in the Roman Diocese. A hundred years later, Pope Gregory IV established it as an official feast day throughout the whole Western Church.

All Hallows’ Eve comes right before it, otherwise known as Halloween, when, traditionally in Medieval Europe, the poor and the children would go door to door offering prayers for the dead. In return, they would receive a “soul cake,” often a small cake with a cross baked on top. This tradition gave the community time to gather for prayer, and feed the hungry before the church gathered on November 1st to remember the dead. As the tradition evolved, especially in Ireland and Scotland, it blended with other spiritual traditions and folklore, some that predated Christianity. People dressed as the dead and went door to door, singing and performing while offering prayers in exchange for food, fruit, or coin. Many of these traditions are the roots of modern renditions of Halloween and All Saints’ Day today.

I have found that remembering these Christian roots helps me engage more intentionally this time of year. No other time of year do people come to our door, offering us an opportunity to be generous and kind, no matter who they are, what they look like, or how many there are. It is a practice we could do much better all year long.

And then, in the days that follow, we are invited to remember those who have gone before us. We are invited to make room for grief, to speak the names of those we love, and to remember that the lives we have been given are not meant to be lived in isolation. We belong to one another. And when someone dies, whether they are someone we have loved deeply or someone whose name we may never have known, something of our shared humanity is lost.

Blessed Are Those Who Mourn.

This year, I find myself thinking about that kind of remembrance in a particularly difficult way. There is so much grief in our world, and so much of it is being carried by people whose suffering is easy for the rest of us to overlook. We have lost loved ones, friends, neighbors, and members of our communities. But we have also witnessed the loss of lives across our country and around the world, lives that are too often reduced to numbers, headlines, political arguments, or the passing mention of another tragedy. And I wonder what it would look like for the church to make room for all of this grief.

Not only the grief we carry in our homes, but the grief we carry as a people. Not only the names we know, but the names we may never know. Not only the losses that touch our own lives, but the lives of people who are suffering far beyond our own neighborhoods.

This is part of what makes the words of Jesus in Matthew 5:1–12 so meaningful to me this week. Jesus sees the crowds and goes up the mountain. His disciples come to him, and he begins to teach them. These are the words we know as the Beatitudes.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

It is easy to read these words as a list of spiritual virtues, or as promises that may only come true after we die. And certainly, there is a future hope in them. Jesus speaks of a day when those who mourn will be comforted, when those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be filled, and when those who have endured persecution will know the fullness of God's kingdom.

But I do not believe Jesus is asking us to wait until heaven to take these words seriously. The Beatitudes begin with Jesus announcing God's blessing upon people who are often overlooked, disregarded, or pushed to the margins. The poor. The grieving. Those who long for justice. Those who are merciful. Those who are treated unjustly because they seek to live faithfully.

Jesus does not tell them that their suffering is good. He does not tell them that poverty, grief, persecution, or injustice are things they should simply accept. He tells them that they are blessed.

Jesus is not blessing the conditions that cause people to suffer. He is announcing that God has not abandoned those who suffer within them. The word Matthew uses for “blessed” is makarios. It is not simply a word for feeling happy or having a good day. It speaks of a life that is favored by God, a life held within God's care. And when Jesus says that those who mourn are blessed, he is not telling us that grief is something to celebrate. He is telling us that those who grieve are not forgotten by God and they will be comforted.

This is why I find it so important that Jesus speaks of the kingdom of heaven as belonging to the poor in spirit and to those who are persecuted for righteousness. The kingdom is not simply a place we go when our lives are over. It is God's reign breaking into the world right now, even as we wait for its fullness. It is the reality Jesus announces and embodies, a reality in which the suffering are seen, the grieving are comforted, the hungry are filled, and those who have been denied justice are not left without hope. A reality in which we become the embodiment of the blessings towards others Jesus is teaching about.

The Beatitudes give us a picture of God's desire for the well-being of all people. And they remind us that God's concern is especially present among those who are suffering. That means the grief of this world cannot be something we simply observe from a distance. It means we cannot speak of God's comfort while becoming indifferent to the suffering of our neighbors. It means we cannot celebrate the kingdom of God while treating the lives of some people as though they matter less than others. And it means that when people die, especially people whose deaths are surrounded by injustice, neglect, or violence, the church has a responsibility to remember them.

We do not need to know every detail of someone's life to recognize that their life was precious. We do not need to share someone's background, nationality, faith, or circumstances to understand that their death is a loss. We do not need to agree on every political question to grieve the death of a human being. We simply need to remember that they were made in the image of God. And that their lives were never meant to be disposable.

The Politics of the Beatitudes.

In recent months, we have seen heartbreaking reports of people dying in immigration detention. Human Rights Watch and Physicians for Human Rights documented 52 deaths in ICE custody between January 20, 2025, and June 4, 2026. Their report also found that the mortality rate had more than doubled since the beginning of the second Trump administration. These are deaths in ICE custody, not including a count of every death connected to immigration enforcement, and each one represents a person whose life ended while in the care or custody of the government. Our government.

We have also seen the consequences of cuts to humanitarian aid around the world. A study published in The Lancet modeled the effects of reductions in USAID funding and estimated that the 2025 cuts could result in approximately 1.8 million excess deaths globally, including roughly 690,000 children under the age of five, compared with the study's baseline scenario. These are modeled estimates, not a verified count of individual deaths directly attributed to the cuts. But they point toward the immense human consequences that can follow when essential aid is withdrawn from people who depend on it.

These are just two examples of realities we hear about everyday.

Behind these numbers are people. People with names. People with families. People who had stories, hopes, favorite songs, ordinary routines, and lives that mattered to someone. Children who should have had the chance to grow up. Parents who should have had more time with their children. People who were hungry, sick, displaced, or seeking safety. People whose deaths may never receive the attention or remembrance that their lives deserved.

And I think this is where the Beatitudes speak to us again. Jesus does not say, “Blessed are those who mourn, because their grief is small.” He does not say, “Blessed are those who mourn, provided their loss is familiar to us.” He does not say, “Blessed are those who mourn, as long as their grief does not inconvenience anyone else.” He simply says that those who mourn are blessed, and that they will be comforted.

The promise is wide enough to hold the grief we carry for our own loved ones and the grief we carry for people we have never met. It is wide enough to hold the names we know and the names we do not. It is wide enough to hold the grief of a family waiting for answers, the grief of a community after violence, the grief of parents who have lost children, and the grief of a world where so many lives are cut short.

And perhaps part of what it means to live as people of the kingdom is to learn how to grieve together. To refuse the temptation to become numb. To refuse to let the constant stream of suffering make us forget that every life is sacred. To refuse to turn another person's death into merely another argument. To remember. To lament. To make room for the tears that remind us we are still human, and that we still belong to one another.

Grief is not the opposite of hope.

Sometimes grief is what hope looks like when it refuses to pretend that the world is as it should be. When we grieve, we are acknowledging that something precious has been lost. We are saying that the world is not meant to be this way. We are bearing witness to the truth that death, violence, injustice, and suffering are not the final word God desires for creation.

When we remember those who have died, we are doing more than looking backward. We are also making a declaration about the kind of future we hope to see. We are saying that their lives mattered. We are saying that their deaths should not be forgotten. We are saying that the living still have a responsibility to one another.

This week, I want to encourage you to make some intentional space for that kind of remembrance. Take time to grieve the people you have lost. Speak their names. Tell their stories. Remember the small things that made them who they were. Share a photograph, a favorite song, a meal they loved, a funny memory, or a story that you have carried for years. Find a creative way to honor their lives and let their memory become something you share with others.

And if you are able, make room to grieve the lives that have been lost in our country and around the world. You might do this alone, or you might gather with a few friends, family members, or members of your community. Find a quiet place. Light a candle. Invite people to speak the names of those they have lost, or the names of people whose lives have been taken and whose stories deserve to be remembered. Allow time for silence. Share memories. Let the tears come if they come.

Remember, you do not need to have the perfect words. You do not need to solve the world's suffering in that moment. You do not need to explain away the grief. Simply make room for it. And when you have finished remembering, close that time with a prayer.

I believe there is something deeply Christian about gathering around a candle and speaking the names of the dead. It is a small act, but it is not an insignificant one. In a world that so often moves quickly past suffering, remembrance slows us down. It asks us to pay attention. It asks us to see the people behind the headlines. It asks us to hold one another's grief with tenderness and with comfort.

When we do, we begin to practice the kind of kingdom Jesus describes. A kingdom where the poor are not forgotten. A kingdom where the grieving are comforted. A kingdom where those who hunger for righteousness are filled. A kingdom where mercy is practiced, peace is pursued, and the lives of the vulnerable are treated as precious. A kingdom where death does not have the final word.

May we be people who remember, who grieve, who comfort one another, and may our remembrance become a faithful witness to the world God desires to bring about.

Prayer

God of the living and the dead,

You see every life.

You know every name.

You hold every story, even the stories the world has forgotten.

We come to you with grief in our hearts.

We remember those we have loved and lost. We remember the voices we still long to hear, the faces we still look for, and the moments we wish we could have again. We thank you for the gifts their lives were to us, and we ask you to hold us gently in the ache of their absence.

We also remember those whose names we may never know.

Those who have died in detention.

Those who have died because they could not find safety, food, medicine, or shelter.

Those whose lives were taken by violence.

Those whose suffering has been overlooked, dismissed, or forgotten.

Those whose families are still waiting for answers.

God of mercy, let none of these lives be lost to our indifference.

Teach us to see the humanity of every person. Teach us to grieve without turning away. Teach us to remember without making another person's suffering into an argument. And teach us to recognize that every life is precious to you.

Bless those who mourn.

Comfort those who are lonely.

Strengthen those who are weary.

Give courage to those who seek justice, and tenderness to those who carry the weight of another person's pain.

May the candle we light remind us that even a small light matters in the darkness.

May the names we speak remind us that no one is merely a number.

May the memories we share become a gift to one another.

And may our grief lead us toward compassion, our compassion toward mercy, and our mercy toward the kind of world you desire for all your children.

Until the day when mourning and crying are no more, hold us in your love and help us hold one another.

In the name of Jesus, who blessed the grieving and promised them comfort,

Amen.

Now I'd like to hear from you! Did you find this helpful? What thoughts came to your mind as you read? Feel free to respond to this email and share your thoughts with me. I look forward to reading them. A 30 Day Day Devotional: I wrote a daily devotional in hopes to provide a companion for people seeking to follow Jesus through the season of we are currently navigating together. You can find out more below: $20.00 Following Jesus In A World Obsessed With Empires: 30 Days of reclaiming the hope, compassion, and justice of Jesus. Today, our world can often feel overwhelmed by darkness, division, and despair. I created this 30-day devotional to... Read more Get it now! ​ Ways to support: If you'd like to support this project, you can do so through one-time-gift of any amount you feel is right. You can also subscribe through a $5/mo, $15/mo, or $25/mo. Several others have also asked for a recurring gift option that is different from the ones offered here, like this one. If you'd like me to set up a different option for you, please just send me an email with the word "support" in the subject line. As always, I really want to thank all of you for reading and for all the ways you support me and this project every single week. I'm thankful for the ways we are building this together and hope it creates a lasting, positive change in our world along the way! I sincerely appreciate you all, Ben Remember, you can now view this and all previous newsletters as well as invite friends to join through this link: https://benjamin-cremer.ck.page/profile.

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