“Can a woman forget her nursing child or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these might forget, yet I will not forget you. See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.” — Isaiah 49:15–16, NRSVUE
Somewhere in your family, there might be a photograph of someone whose name no one remembers. Maybe it shows a woman on a porch in a long dress, a man leaning against an old car, or a child sitting quietly for a photo taken over a hundred years ago. Someone kept that picture because the person was important to them. They put it in an album, slipped it into a drawer, or carried it with them among their treasured things.
But as generations passed, the people who knew the story died. The photos were passed down to children and grandchildren, and fewer and fewer faces were recognized. Eventually, someone opened the album, pointed to a picture, and asked, “Who is that?” No one knew.
Once, this person was the center of someone’s world. People spoke their name with affection. Someone worried when they were sick. Someone missed them when they were away. Maybe they fell in love, raised children, worked hard, told bad jokes, or cooked a meal everyone loved. They went through all the everyday joys and sorrows that make up a human life. And now, maybe no one remembers their name.
I’ve been thinking about this as All Saints Sunday approaches, when many Christian churches read aloud the names of people who died in the past year. The ritual has always moved me. We gather as a community to read the names, light candles and maybe ring a bell. Sometimes the congregation knows the person well. Sometimes only a few people recognize the name. Sometimes the room grows quiet as everyone realizes a whole life is summed up in just a few words. It’s beautiful when a community takes time to remember.
But I think about the people whose names will never be read. The great grandmother who died before anyone had the opportunity to write her story. The immigrant buried far from home. The child who lived only a few days. The person who died without any family or friends. The enslaved person whose name was never recorded at all as the people who claimed to own them simply didn’t think their life was worth recording.
Human history is full of people whose names have disappeared. In fact, most of them. We remember kings, generals, religious leaders, artists, and a few people who changed history. But most people who ever lived left no lasting record of themselves. They loved. They suffered. They hoped. They died. And the world went on.
There’s an old passage from the prophet Isaiah that I find beautiful in the light of this. The people of Israel were in the midst of the trauma of exile. Their land was destroyed, their world was gone and they were terrified that even God had abandoned them.
“Zion said, ‘The Lord has forsaken me, my Lord has forgotten me.’”
God answers with an image from the close bonds of human relationships. Can a mother forget her nursing child? Even if she could, God says ‘I will not forget you’.
“See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.”
I love that image. The people think they’ve been forgotten. God’s answer is that the memory is so close it’s actually etched into God’s own being.
The passage is about a people rather than guaranteeing that every individual will be remembered by posterity. It does however open up a very interesting theological idea. Perhaps the significance of a life is not in whether it is remembered by others. Maybe we matter simply because we have existed, because our lives are part of this amazing unfolding of creation, and because our worth never depended on being important in history.
That’s a very different way to think about the communion of saints. We often picture saints as extraordinary people whose names and stories have lasted for centuries. Francis of Assisi. Hildegard of Bingen. Teresa of Ávila. Martin Luther King Jr. People whose courage, faith, and wisdom still shape our lives.
But the Christian communion of saints includes many more than just the famous. They are the people who lived humbly, loved badly and died without leaving anything in the history books that would be deemed remarkable. They were the people who tried to be good in circumstances which no one else will ever really understand. They made mistakes, asked for forgiveness, cared about people, and sometimes did something truly good. Most of their names are gone. Their lives were just as sacred. I find that idea rather comforting as I get older.
We live in a culture that puts a lot of pressure on us to matter in ways that can be measured. We want our work to have impact, our lives to make a difference, our names to be linked to something good. Even our spiritual language can get caught up in the legacies we hope to leave.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting our lives to add something good to the world. But maybe we’ve mixed up being significant with being remembered.
I think about the people I’ve loved who are gone. Some are still vivid in my memory. I can still hear their voices, remember their laughter, and picture the looks on their faces when something made them happy or annoyed. But I know my memories are changing. Details are fading. Stories are becoming less clear. At times I find myself realizing that I can’t remember something that I once thought I’d never forget. And one day the people who remember them will be gone as well. That’s part of being mortal.
Maybe All Saints Sunday invites us to face that reality without despair. We gather to say the names we still know, grateful for the lives they represent. But we also remember that the sacred community is bigger than our memories, our family trees, our church records, and the names carved in stone.
There are people who lived and died whose names will never be spoken aloud again. I don’t know exactly what it means to say they are remembered by God. I’m more and more careful about claiming to understand the mysteries of death and eternity. But I find myself drawn to the idea that nothing truly precious about a life depends on it staying visible to us.
Maybe we are held in a love bigger than human memory. And maybe that’s enough.
This Sunday, when those of us in the Christian tradition read the names of the dead aloud, I hope we also remember the people whose names have been lost. The unknown ancestors. The forgotten neighbors. The people who lived quiet lives and faded from history.
Every one of them was once as alive as we are now.
And every one of them mattered.
We are in this together,
Cameron
Reflection Questions
Who has died whose voice, gestures, or presence you can still remember vividly? What is one small detail about them that you wish you could preserve?
How does it change your understanding of a meaningful life to consider that most people who have ever lived are no longer remembered by name?
What might become possible if you believed that your life was already sacred and worthy of love, without needing to accomplish something extraordinary or leave a lasting legacy?
A Prayer for the Day
A Prayer: Held Beyond Memory
Holy Mystery, You know the names we have forgotten, the faces lost to time, the lives that passed without monuments or acclaim. Receive our beloved dead into the spaciousness of your love. Hold the ones whose laughter still echoes in our hearts, and those whose stories no living voice can tell. When memory begins to fade, be gentle with our grief. When we fear that we, too, will someday be forgotten, remind us that our worth was never measured by how long our names endured. May every life, remembered or unknown, rest within the mystery of your abiding love. Amen.
Spiritual Practice: The Names We Cannot Remember
For All Saints Sunday, find an old family photograph, album, or collection of pictures that includes someone whose name or story you no longer know. If you do not have such a photograph, think of an ancestor several generations removed from you, someone whose life made yours possible but about whom you know almost nothing.
Place the photograph before you, or write the word Unknown on a piece of paper.
Spend a few minutes imagining the ordinary humanity of this person. They had a body that experienced hunger and tiredness. They may have known friendship, disappointment, love, illness, laughter, and grief. Someone may once have called their name across a room with great affection.
You don’t need to invent a story about them. Simply allow yourself to recognize that their life was as real and particular as your own.
Then, if it is part of your practice, light a candle and say: For the lives we remember, we give thanks. For the lives whose names have been lost, we give thanks. May every life be held in love, beyond the limits of our knowing.
Allow the candle to burn safely for a few minutes.
If you worship with a congregation on Sunday, carry that awareness with you as the names of the dead are read aloud. Remember that the list is necessarily incomplete, but the community of lives worthy of love is not.
Upcoming Events That Might Be of Interest…
My team and I launched a new experiment we are calling “The Commons.” It’s an online space centered around communities of practice: groups of people who share a common concern, set of problems, or passion for a topic, and deepen their knowledge and expertise by interacting on an ongoing basis. Join the community here.
November 3, 2026 - 12:30 - 1:30pm ET - ONLINE BOOK CLUB - I am hosting a book club where we are reading Fr. Gregory Boyle’s “Cherished Belonging: The Healing Power of Love in Divided Times.” Father Gregory Boyle, founder of Homeboy Industries, has spent decades building community among people whom society has often discarded. In Cherished Belonging, he draws on those relationships and stories to explore what might happen if we stopped sorting people into categories of worthy and unworthy, us and them. Don’t worry if you don’t have time to read the book. We always have incredibly rich conversations. All are welcome. Learn more here.
November 4, 2026 - 7-8:30pm ET, ONLINE EVENT - Theologian Matthew Fox and I are teaming up again in a series called Journeying with the Mystics. The mystics have always emerged in times of uncertainty. They appear when old certainties are crumbling, when institutions no longer provide easy answers, and when people find themselves longing for a deeper experience of the Sacred. Join us for a 24-session exploration of the teachings of St. John of the Cross, Thomas Merton, Hildegard of Bingen, Kabir and Rumi, Meister Eckhart and more. This is more than a lecture series. It is an invitation into a living spiritual journey. Learn more and REGISTER HERE!
November 10, 7-8:30pm ET - I’ll be joined by theologian, writer, and professor Dr. Debra Rienstra for a special ONLINE conversation on Refugia Faith. In ecology, refugia are small places where life survives amid disruption, pockets of resilience from which life can eventually regenerate and spread. Debra invites us to consider what this might mean spiritually in an age of climate instability, political turmoil, institutional decline, and profound uncertainty. What if our congregations, communities, relationships, and even our own lives could become refugia, places where courage, compassion, beauty, wisdom, and possibility are protected and cultivated for whatever comes next? I hope you’ll join us for this timely and deeply hopeful conversation. REGISTER HERE!
November 19, 2026, 7-8:45pm ET - I will be joining Jackie Sussman for an online session on practicing eidetics as part of our “Reclaiming the Power of Imagination” monthly series. Eidetic Imagery is a powerful tool for pastors, denominational leaders, coaches, and spiritual directors working with others, and for individuals seeking deeper integration and healing in their own lives. Jackie is a psychotherapist, author, and leading expert in Eidetic Image Psychology, and has spent over forty years helping leaders and individuals unlock creativity, uncover hidden strengths, and move through limiting patterns. During this session, she will lead a live Eidetic process shaped by mythic imagery, offering a direct experience of the work. REGISTER HERE.
December 5, 2026 - A Way in the Wilderness: An Online Advent Silent Retreat, 9:00 a.m.–4 p.m. ET - I’m delighted to be leading a special Advent retreat with my friends at the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation. A Way in the Wilderness is an invitation to step away from the noise and demands of daily life and enter a spacious day of contemplative prayer, sacred reading, Sabbath rest, and silence. Together, we’ll explore the biblical wilderness as a place where new possibilities emerge and discover the peace that comes from recognizing the Sacred’s presence even in uncertain times. There is nothing to accomplish and no experience to manufacture. Just an opportunity to rest, listen, and remember that we do not travel through the wilderness alone. LEARN MORE.
December 8, 2026, 7-8:00pm ET - The holidays can be especially tender when we are carrying grief. Whether we are mourning someone we love, navigating changes in our health or relationships, or grieving the uncertainty of the world around us, this season can bring losses both old and new to the surface. Join us on The Commons for a special one-hour online gathering led by my friend Joy Gaertner, an Advanced Loss & Grief Recovery Specialist. Together, we will create a welcoming space to acknowledge our losses, honor what we carry through meaningful rituals of remembrance, and discover sources of hope for the season ahead. This will be a gentle evening of connection and care, with room for whatever grief you may be holding. The gathering is donation-based, and all are welcome. LEARN MORE.
December 15, 7-8:30pm ET - FREE WEBINAR - I will be joined by Dr. Charissa Mikoski, Assistant Professor of Research and Hartford Institute for Religion Research for a presentation on “The State of American Congregations: What the Latest Data Tell Us.” This webinar explores findings from the 2025 Faith Communities Today survey, including changes in worship attendance, congregational vitality, finances, volunteering, programming, and leadership. It will also examine what more than 24,000 individual attenders tell us about participation and their experiences of congregational life. Together, these findings offer a picture that is neither simply one of decline nor one of revival, but of significant change and uneven recovery. REGISTER HERE.
Fun Things My Friends Are Up To…
I get to work with such amazing, creative people. This section is my way of celebrating them—no paid promotions, just joy in what they’re creating.
Happening NOW - The Ride 2026: Carrying the Legacy of the Freedom Riders Forward - Sixty-five years after the original Freedom Riders boarded buses to challenge segregation in the American South, a new generation is retracing their historic journey. My dear friend, Rev. Traci Blackmon, is joining Rev. Dr. Michael Waters, Pastor Doug Pagitt, original Freedom Riders and their descendants, and a remarkable coalition of faith and civil rights organizations for The Ride 2026. Traveling from Washington, D.C., to New Orleans, October 17–28, they are visiting historic civil rights sites, churches, and communities to honor the courage of those who came before us while encouraging civic participation and protecting voting rights today. At a time when so many Americans are worried about the future of our democracy, I am deeply grateful for these friends who are putting their faith into action. Please follow their extraordinary journey, celebrate their work, and consider supporting the effort.
Every Monday, 12pm ET - ONLINE WRITING GROUP - My dear friend, Meryl Marshall-Daniels, is leading a writing group open to all. This is a simple and spacious writing circle for people who want time to listen inwardly and put words on the page without overthinking, performing, or polishing. Meryl offers a prompt designed to invite reflection, imagination, and attunement to what is already alive within you. The practice honors writing as a way of listening, of letting images, memories, questions, and insights surface in their own time. Learn more here.
If you are a leader or member of a congregation looking for consulting support in visioning, planning, hiring or staffing, please consider Convergence.
Oh I love this for the memory it brought to me. A few years ago I was gifted by my Aunt a lineage chart she had spent years uncovering. And back a handful of generations was a great great great (some number?) grandmother referred to as “Savage/Unknown”. Upon seeing this I remembered a vision I once had while deep in a cave with about a dozen women from whom I’d become lost. I couldn’t hear the drum someone was beating, and I’d lost all sense of direction without any physical light to guide me back. So I just plopped down and cried. Almost immediately an indigenous woman (I could tell on account of her regalia-even though I couldn’t see a thing) took my hand and guided me through.
In my heart/mind she has become “Savage/Unknown”. What a comfort and a blessing to have this connection, even without a name. 🙏