The Challenge of All Souls’ Day

By the way, just as a reminder/clarification. Those of you who were reading my reflections over the summer may have noticed that my language is a bit different now than then. The main reason for this is that my classmates (actually, only seven of them) are my "congregation" now. This represents an element of how we are trained to preach. Instead of making up homilies for an "imaginary" or "hypothetical" congregation, we simply preach to our brother seminarians. The theory is that this way of practicing will help us learn to interpret life with the scriptures better than trying to apply the scriptures to imagined conditions. So, if you're wondering why my language isn't gender-inclusive anymore, or why my reflections might seem less relevant to the average person in the pew, this is why. In fact, we are now recording our homilies, so in the next week or two it might be possible for me to post the video online. I had also thought some of you might find it interesting to see the way we evaluate one another's homilies in class. If you'd be interested in seeing the forms and the comments my classmates make, let me know and I'll ask if they would mind my posting them online for you all to see.

The Church gives us several options for readings to be used on the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed (a.k.a. "All Souls' Day"). For my homily in class, I chose to work with Jn 11:32-45.

The picture we get from the accounts of Mother Theresa's life is one of a persistent, energetic, strong-willed advocate for the poor and down-trodden. The stories we hear of the people—the sick, the dying, the abandoned—that she sought out and brought in from the streets of Calcutta reveal a woman who was aggressive and irascible in her compassion. For Mother Theresa, no one was beyond hope. No one was beyond the reach of God's love. And no one, absolutely no one, would be allowed to forget that while in her presence. Her persistence in her work is such that I have this image of her up in Heaven, interceding, and by "interceding" I mean hounding, God on behalf of all those poor on the streets of Calcutta whom she still loves.

Now, why do I mention this? Well, I want to put this image of Mother Theresa in your minds as a stark contrast to the people in today's gospel—these people who are all too willing to be skeptical about Jesus' power to heal and save. The commentators will point out that there is a tendency to soften the harshness of Jesus' emotions as they are described in the original Greek. "Perturbed" doesn't quite capture the strength of Jesus' emotion here. The Greek vividly describes Jesus' anger, not sadness, at Martha, Mary and the Jews present—anger at their lack of faith in him and his power.

John, of course, gives us a relatively sober version of the story, but in my mind's eye I can see Jesus saying "Get that stone out of the way!" "But, Lord… there will be a stench…." "I SAID, MOVE THE STONE‼!" I think it would be wise on our part, brothers, not to imitate these people in the gospel today. Instead, we must ask ourselves whether we truly have the faith to facilitate Jesus' work, or whether we instead get in the way.

Do we always look at the occasions of sin as opportunities for God's omnipotent mercy to be manifested here and now?

Or, does our faith, like that of Martha and Mary in this story, stop at what Jesus could have done had things turned out differently?

When in the midst of the seemingly hopeless situation, when we are with people who seem to have placed themselves beyond the reach of love, what do we do?

Do we anticipate Jesus' miraculous redeeming power? Do we take the initiative to "roll away the stone?"

Or, do we stand there objecting when Jesus tells us to roll away the stones of poor choices and unseal the tombs of despair in which sinners are locked?

Admittedly, these are often even well-intentioned responses of people who understand the universal need for the salvation that Jesus offers.

On days like All Souls' when we take time to focus on those who have gone before us with the tell-tale signs of the bumps and bruises of life in a fallen world, we cannot help but be reminded of those we love who have gone before us not-so-clearly-marked by the sign of faith. The relevant question is do we despair over their salvation and abandon them in the tombs they have hewn? Or rather, do we think about the widow of Nain, who moves Jesus with her tears to raise her son, and go to work on their behalf in our prayer, pestering God to extend his mercy to those we love???

I call your attention to the Offertory prayer the Church prescribes for All Souls' Day…

O Lord Jesus Christ, King of Glory, deliver the souls of all the departed faithful from the sufferings of hell and from the deep pit; deliver them from the mouth of the lion, may they not be swallowed up by hell, may they not fall into darkness; but may Saint Michael, the standard-bearer, present them in holy light as you promised long ago to Abraham and his descendants. We offer our sacrifices and our prayers to you, O Lord; receive them for the souls that we are remembering today; O lord, make them pass from death into life as you promised…

Glory to Jesus Christ! Glory Forever!

~J