The Feast of All Saints — a Celebration in Embroidery

We have a particularly special creation to share from our workshop. In our latest chasuble, we are calling on the celebration of the entire communion of saints — the known and the unknown — and commemorating the heavenly host of faithful for the feast of All Saints.

For many, All Saints remains mystical; its origins can seem to raise more questions than answers, and, often thought of as a feast that resists individualism, it draws our gaze to the unity of the Body of Christ across time and place, relying on the prayer for the many to focus thought on the one. 

The origins of All Saints are believed to be uncharacteristically early, although the exact date is unknown. A commemoration of all the martyrs was instituted in the Eastern churches around the year 360, with St. Ephraim referring to an observance on the 13th of May that year. Whilst the day of choice has varied between the various rites since these early days, All Souls, as we know it in the West, is believed to have come from the conversion of the Pantheon in Rome. In the year 608, Pope St Boniface IV obtained the Roman building known as the Pantheon, the ‘temple of all the gods’, from the Emperor Phocas. He dedicated it as a church to the Virgin Mary and All Martyrs on the 13th of May, aligning with that date mentioned by St Ephraim.

Although not as initially intended, it was William Durandus, a liturgical commentator of the High Middle Ages, who highlighted the significance of venerating all of the saints. Durandas, believing that the feast was instituted to displace the worship of pagan gods in the Pantheon, explains that, ‘since the individual idols of the Romans could not each have a temple in Rome, they built a temple in honour of Cybele, the mother of the gods, and of all their gods’ and so it is in this tradition that the Christian festival displaced. Thus, the significance of this solemn celebration broadened, including not just the martyrs of St. Ephraim and the early foundations of the Pantheon, but also of the heavenly consortium of confessors, apostles, mystics, teachers, and ordinary faithful. 

As such, our chasuble, taking the opportunity to remember the holy community in service of the living, celebrates the identity of some of the key saints who shaped the landscape of Christianity as we enjoy it today.

Thoughtfully composed around a vertical staff, the work brings together a series of saintly symbols: the lilies of Our Mother, the crossed keys of St Peter, the scallop shell of St James, the book of St Mark, and the anchor of St Paul. Whilst each symbol carries a potent iconographic understanding of the time-honoured hagiography, it is in their relationship to one another—and to the broader tradition of All Saints—that the whole meaning of the design emerges. The vertical structure of the design already suggests a liturgical logic. These are not random devotional symbols but a theological narrative in thread—one that closely mirrors the logic of the Christian life as celebrated on All Saints’ Day. Gathering apostles, martyrs, contemplatives, and preachers—not according to fame or function, but united in their shared orientation towards Christ. A more precise ordering of the symbols would quietly reflect this shared but structured vocation.

At the top of this heavenly collective sits the Mother of Christ; her significance as the saint most closely entwined with both the humanity and divinity of Christ is reflected in both the importance of the verticality of the chasuble and the intricacy of the embroidered lilies. 

In their appearance, great care has been taken with the embroidery of the lilies, delicately executed and utilising a subtle, naturalistic colour palette of shaded pinks and whites to create tonality and depth. Thus, it seeks to further evoke not only the beauty and divinity of Marian grace, but also emphasise the purity, innocence, and resurrection these lilies have come to represent over time. The Virgin’s divinity in the heavenly hierarchy is also explicitly delineated in the Japanese gold thread embroidery outline and the elegant acanthus scrolls that flow from the lilies. The scrollwork of golden acanthus leaves that frame not only the lilies, but also the other symbols of saintly divinity, is more than decorative. The acanthus has long stood in Christian art for eternal life, endurance, and resurrection. Its looping, rhythmic form gives visual unity to the vertical arrangement, and subtly reinforces the theme of flourishing in faith, even in adversity — the scrolls of greatest dimension are found to be enshrining the lilies and again reinforce her seniority in the scheme.

Owing to the symbolism of the lily, whilst traditionally linked with the Virgin Mary, lilies have also been associated more broadly with many virgin martyrs. As such, these embroidered lilies bring to mind saints who led lives of chastity and prayer, but also all those who, through suffering and faith, now bloom eternally in the garden of heaven. It is for this reason also that the Lilies of the Virgin also appear in Christian funeral iconography, a subtle but poignant reminder that, in our deaths, we are greeted by the saints whose lives we have sought to live by. The ultimate representation of the triumph of grace over sin. 

Beneath the Virgin sits the crossed keys of St Peter; the keys are not merely personal to St Peter but symbolise the authority entrusted to him by Christ (Matthew 16:19) and inherited through apostolic succession. Executed in a contrasting padded silver embroidery, the keys are lifted from the chasuble with a dynamic heft. This contrast in colour also represents the power to bind and loose both in heaven and on earth, as well as the balance between mercy and justice, law and love. Thus, in departing from the gentle grace of the Marian lilies, St Peter's keys present a feeling of fixedness: a steadfastness to be expected from the Patriarch of the Church.

Indeed, placing him above the other apostles reinforces this, with the mission of discipleship (James, Mark and Paul) flowing from the ecclesial foundation (Peter). 

The lilies, crossed keys, and scallop shell.

Below the keys of St Peter rests a scallop shell, rendered in delicate blue and silver tonal embroidery and lined in a silver braid. The shell echoes both the silver of Peter’s keys and the realism of Marian lilies, bringing the Matriarch and Patriarch of Rome into the discipleship of St James.

The symbol of the shell is still used today as an emblem to promote pilgrimage, recalling early Christian roots as the reciprocal for the water used to baptise Christ by St. John. In this context, the shell symbolises both the beginning of the spiritual life — a new birth into the body of Christ — as well as a Christian’s continued ductus, or journey, to travel in a life of faith. Its central placement near the top of the vertical axis also suggests the Christian’s personal journey — a pilgrimage not just to a holy place on earth, but to the eternal pastures of Heaven. The shell is a reminder that our faith is not static; it is a journey walked in trust, guided by grace.

Finally, by anchoring the scheme of saints together, the anchor of St Peter serves as the final symbol on our chasuble. The anchor is one of the oldest symbols in Christian iconography, found in the catacombs as a unifying symbol of St Peter as a fisherman of people rather than of fish. This has been discussed more expansively in our previous Blog, found here. 

Beyond referencing St Peter’s hagiography, the anchor also represents hope, especially hope in Christ amid suffering and persecution. Hebrews 6:19 beautifully captures this: “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” The anchor keeps us from drifting, rooting our souls in God’s promise. As such, the anchor reminds us that the Christian hope is not naive. It is forged through struggle, trial, and the tenacity of faith, offering us an anchor in a life of tumult. For this reason, the anchor provides the most humanistic symbol of all the saints.

In this linear structure, a coherent progression is established: from purity (the lilies), to authority (keys), to journey (shell), to endurance (anchor). We are invited to consider the multi-layered faculties of saintly benediction. That they are woven into the same central staff suggests that this palimpsest of Sainthood is not independent of the journey of faith but integrated into it. It is the Church’s role to guide, guard, and nourish the faithful throughout their lives and it is sometimes the lives of the saints that best show us this. 

Visually and liturgically, All Saints is a day charged with memory and meaning — an invitation to consider sanctity not as exception, but as vocation. These sentiments are elegantly expressed in Saint John Chrysostom’s Common of Martyrs sermon: 

While then we behold these celebrations, let us understand how great is their glory in heaven, whose festivals are thus honoured on earth; may we ourselves be stirred up to show forth the like example, an equal courage, the same devotion and faith.  

Ultimately, these once ordinary people prioritised grace and action in circumstances that were often hostile. Theologically precise, and visually compelling, our chasuble urges its audience that, in the memory of the saints, to venture to do likewise and remain grounded in the example we have been shown. Indeed, what a sage and timely reminder for us all as we navigate our world’s present socio-political climate. As such, on All Saints’ Day, when the Church gathers to remember those who lived and died in Christ, our chasuble becomes a homily in silk and gold. Not sentiment, but witness. Not decoration, but doctrine.

The All Saints Chasuble. Available to purchase here.