ALL SOULS
Last weekend, I happened to be driving in the country at sunrise. It was the first frost of the year and the fields were stunning. I had to stop the car and just gaze for a few moments. The green grass barely shone through the silver gossamer-like coating of frost over the fields. The emerging sun lit up the still bounteous fall foliage. It was a moment of transcendence. I felt intense gratitude for the beauty before my eyes. But I felt something else as well. I knew that this beauty was a portent of the coming winter. All living vegetation would soon wither and die. Afterward, it would be gently covered – as if in a burial – with a foot of cold, white snow.
For those in the northern hemisphere experiencing this seasonal change, it is natural to make connections with our own lives and to mark this in our liturgical life. This is why we place a special focus on those who have died each year at this time. On this day, November 2, the feast of All Souls, we remember our beloved friends and relatives and we pray for them. We pray that their time of waiting… cleansing… purification… be over. We hope, though we do not know, that they may have crossed into the realm of the saints and are praying for us, too.
On this day, as I pray for particular people, I remember that each and every one of us is created in the image and likeness of God. So, in my prayer, I try to consider what aspect of the divine image was most clearly reflected to me in the person for whom I am praying. Was it the way in which they showed compassion to the lonely? The way in which they helped bring order to the world? The laughter that always made everyone they were with feel that all was right with the universe? Perhaps it was their care for creation, their passion for justice, their quiet prayerfulness in which I glimpsed the very face of God in them. My remembrances always bring healing to my grief for I recognize that God not only promises us eternal life in heaven but also a continued presence here on earth. For it is true that all our goodness lives on this side of eternity in the ways in which we have impacted others.
But, as German theologian Karl Rahner once said, we all leave this life as “unfinished symphonies.” Even those who die as saints have left hurt hearts behind. Most times we die having been unable to reconcile with a person (or even a community) to which we have done harm or which has harmed us. The opportunity to express our sorrow over injuries inflicted never arose, or we failed to take it. Perhaps we were even unaware of the hurt we had caused or those who had harmed us were unaware of the consequences of their behaviour on our hearts. So, might All Souls be an occasion of reconciliation across the grave. Might we offer a prayer of forgiveness for a loved one whom we grieve but whom we also acknowledge has hurt us? Might we also offer a prayer of contrition for a loved one whom we grieve who we know we have harmed?
As Christians, we believe that death is not the end. Like the natural world in autumn, much appears to be gone and buried. But life will come with the spring. Forgiveness and healing can happen even after death – for us and for all souls.
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them.
May the souls of all the faithful departed,
through the mercy of God, rest in peace.
Amen.
Christine Way Skinner is a doctoral student at Regis St. Michael’s at the Toronto School of Theology and has been a lay pastoral minister for more than 30 years. Together with her husband, Michael, she has parented 6 wonderful children. She has written a number of books for Novalis on living the Catholic faith for both adults and children.
