When the wall between the worlds is too firm,
too close.
When it seems all solidity
and sharp edges.
When every morning you wake as if flattened against it, its forbidding presence
fairly pressing the breath from you
all over again.
Then may you be given a glimpse
of how weak the wall
and how strong what stirs on the other side,
breathing with you and blessing you still,
forever bound to you but freeing you
into this living, nto this world so much wider
than you ever knew.
Jan Richardson: God of the Living-A Blessing
from The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief
When the artist and theologian Jan Richardson wrote that poem a little more than 10 years ago her husband had entered the last stages of dying. In the years since, it has provided comfort to her and thousands of others who are grieving. And in the last few weeks, it has opened for me a new way to understand today’s feast of All Saints and Souls. Now, a few of you might be thinking, “wait, isn’t it two feasts?” And all I can say is, “Well, for me, it used to be.”
Growing up Catholic in the 60’s and 70’s I certainly learned the distinction between All Saints and All Souls. Firstly, we had to attend Mass on All Saints since it was a holy day of obligation. It was a day of triumphant celebration of our heroes-recounting the great feats of charity, holiness and courage they displayed while they were alive as well as the many ways they continued to assist those who prayed to them asking for intercessions. From finding your keys to helping pass a kidney stone, there was a saint in charge of that department.
And some of that is still very much a part of me. I have to confess that while we were babysitting our four grandchildren last weekend, after having been informed that my son and daughter-in-laws’ wills stipulated that we would get the children in the event of their demise, we had votive candles lit all weekend for every saint we could find at the local Jewel-Osco store. As they say, there are no atheists in foxholes.
All Souls Day, on the other hand, was a much less showy affair. We were invited to pray for our beloved dead, especially for early release from whatever their sentence was in Purgatory. The emphasis was on what we might do for them, rather than on what they might do for us.
I suppose part of my reluctance to distinguish between saints and mere souls comes from having been, at one time in my life, a little too close to the multimillion dollar industry of saint-making. Also, then there are the results. Just the fact that 82% of the canonized are male and that 30% of all popes are included should give one pause.
But, even more so, as I have come to understand the scriptures, especially the gospels I have come to believe that sanctity is not an extreme sport. In today’s reading from Luke’s gospel we hear the following:
Blessed are you who are poor Blessed are you who are hungry Blessed are you who weep Love your enemies
Give to everyone who begs
Do unto others as you would have them do to you.
None of this demands heroism. Ordinary souls whose hearts have been touched by compassion in such a way that kindness becomes a habit are enough.
An awareness of the ways in which we have been profoundly blessed that inspires ever greater generosity in responding to the needs of others is enough.
A willingness to be present to the suffering that my own life brings, that deepens my sense of empathy and commitment to the pursuit of justice for all people is enough.
And in all of this, on this day of remembering, we are reminded that we are not alone. The communion of saints is not an exclusive club to which we aspire, but a family in which we live. It is a community that we enter more deeply as we remember all of those
who have inspired, nurtured and even loved us throughout our lives. It is a community that in remembering the faithful witness of those who have gone before us, some distant and some so very near, draws inspiration and courage for the journey.
The theologian Elizabeth Johnson puts it this way:
Together the living form with the dead one community of memory and hope, a holy people touched with the fire of the Spirit, summoned to go forth as companions bringing the face of divine compassion into everyday life and the great struggles of history, wrestling with evil, and delighting even now when fragments of justice, peace and healing gain however small a foothold. –Friends of God and Prophets: A Feminist Theological Reading of the Communion of Saints
I wish you all a very blessed Feast.