Today is All Saints Day. A holiday that was started during ancient Rome, when Christians were killed for sport.

“Hallows Eve,” was simply a prayer vigil traditionally held on the night before this holiday. A holiday intended for remembering martyrs.

So, I’d like to tell you about a few recent ones.

People like Qamar Zia, a Pakistani woman, born in 1929.

As a young woman, Qamar escaped an arranged marriage by running away. She worked in orphanages and mission hospitals. She lived with American Presbyterian missionaries, attended Bible school, then became a teacher.

She visited poor villages, traveling the countryside by bicycle, preaching love and acceptance.

Qamar broke longstanding Pakistani social norms by teaching women to read. She also worked alongside these women in the cotton fields.

In the end, Qamar pissed off the wrong people. Her death was sudden. In 1960, she was found brutally murdered in her bed.

Today, a statue of Qamar Zia stands over Westminster Abbey.

Then there’s Doctor José Gregorio. Born in 1864 in a small village in Venezuela. He came from humble means. His mom cleaned houses.

He became a doctor, but never made any money. Namely, because he treated the impoverished for free. He bought everyone’s medicine out of his own pocket.

During the Spanish Flu epidemic of 1918, he treated hundreds, if not thousands. All for free. They called him the “Doctor of the Poor.”

Soon, villagers across the country were seeking him out. Nobody was turned away. He always began his treatment by praying for them. Oftentimes, miracles happened.

One day, while José was delivering medicine to an elderly woman, he was struck by a motorist. He is one of the first recognized saints of Venezuela.

Miguel Pro. In 1927, Mexico was a frightening place to live. Under the presidency of Plutarco Elías Calles, it was practically illegal to practice Christianity.

Churches were burned. Priests were imprisoned. Nuns were killed. This period was called by news reporters “the fiercest persecution of religion anywhere since the reign of Elizabeth.”

Miguel was born poor. The child of a mining family. And at the time when the Mexican Constitution was being rewritten, forbidding churches to do pretty much anything but exist, Miguel became a priest.

Miguel defied the new laws. He held services openly, and underground. He prayed in public. He visited imprisoned priests and nuns. He conducted weddings, funerals, and christenings.

They charged him with phony crimes. They sentenced him to death by firing squad, without trial.

Before Miguel was led to his execution, he told each rifleman that he forgave him. Whereupon, Miguel stood against the stone wall with arms outstretched, an imitation of a crucifixion.

Miraculously, the firing squad missed. Whereupon Miguel was shot at close range, while kneeling and praying for the forgiveness of his executioners.

And, lastly, there is the story of George L. Fox, Methodist minister; Alexander D. Goode, Jewish rabbi; John P. Washington, Roman Catholic priest; and Clark V. Poling, Dutch Reformed minister. Four chaplains in the US Army.

During World War II, the US transport ship, “Dorchester” was torpedoed by a German U-boat. A massive explosion lit the nightscape, and it was game over.

Within seconds, the Dorchester was going down. There were 902 soldiers aboard.

Mass chaos ensued. And as all hell was breaking loose, as the ship was sinking, the four chaplains organized evacuations, tended to the wounded, and prayed for the dying.

The chaplains also distributed life jackets from the ship’s storage locker. When the supply of life jackets ran out, the chaplains removed their own life jackets, and gave them away.

Then, chaplains began removing items of personal clothing and distributing them to help soldiers keep warm.

As the Dorchester went down, soldiers would recall seeing the chaplains standing on the main deck, interlocking arms, fighting against gravity. The chaplain’s voices could be heard praying aloud, and singing hymns. Right up until they all drowned.

So anyway, I’m running out of room here, but I wanted you to know that this weekend is about a lot more than trick-or-treating.