(Editorial) “An inhabited Sky”, by Marie-Yvonne Buss

A new demonstration on October 31, a tense return to high school on November 2, an inter-union strike on the 5th: traditionally devoted to contemplation around the graves of our loved ones, this All Saints’ Day 2026 weekend will hardly be able to free itself from the ambient “bubbling”, in the words of political scientist Emmanuel Rivière (read p. 12) .

For those who will be having a family reunion, we can bet that the guests could quickly raise their voices around the Sunday chicken. Because there are many of us, and not just the youngest, who feel on edge: disoriented by the unbridled violence of the thugs, like the Limougauds. (pg. 14) ; shaken by the racist murder of Trappes; and anxious for the future of our country, in this poorly started electoral campaign.

What if, in fact, All Saints’ Day came at the right time to broaden our outlook? Because what does the Christian faith tell us? May the conversation between the living and the beings they loved not end when they die; than the joy of being united with the immense people of “all the saints”, on 1^er November, illuminates the celebration of the deceased the next day; that spiritual solidarity between the living and the dead, finally, is universal: we pray for all the deceased, and not just ours. The intimate dialogue that François Ravard’s pencil delicately illustrates (p.46) is destined to extend beyond the circle of our affinities.

Previous generations inspire us and accompany us: we can hesitate to think of the inhabited Sky, and write it in magnificent pages (read p. 48) . It is perhaps there, this lesson that the tribute to our departed gives us in this turbulent autumn: we weave better in common when we feel connected to others. “In my world, we are more outraged about mutilated young people than about shop windows,” a demonstrator proclaimed on his sign on October 24. Is there no human behind a window? No pain, no fear, no damage? In this scale of harm, a link is missing.

Yes, social injustice and the feeling of exclusion are poisons for our democracy. But the coalition of selfishness will not solve anything. However, underlines Emmanuel Rivière, there are “silent but active majorities who hold the country together”. This appetite for harmony cannot be stopped by the ballot, nor by age, nor by skin color. Listen before judging, argue without crushing: here’s something to train us to discuss during next Sunday’s lunch.