The Solemnity of
All Saints
Dear
brothers and sisters,
Today
the Apostle John offers what may well be the best answer to any question ever posed
by a teacher: “My lord, you are the one who knows” (Revelation 7:14). Teachers
may not give you full credit for the answer, but they should at least give extra
credit for being clever.
There
are some people who seem to skate through life, as it were, on extra credit,
without ever really investing themselves fully into their projects and duties. They
count on their charm, charisma, or cleverness, but do not know the satisfaction
of an honest attempt or the growth that comes from failure.
In
his vision of the heavenly court, Saint John the Beloved certainly does not
find himself in the presence of those who merely ambled their way into heaven. No,
these men and women “wearing white robes and holding palm branches in their
hands” are those who “have survived the time of great distress” (Revelation 7:9,14). It is no accident that they are standing before the throne of God.
As
we contemplate the lives of the Saints, of those who have made themselves pure
out of love for God (cf. I John 3:3), we often wonder how they did so. How did
they keep their hands sinless and their hearts clean (cf. Psalm 24:4)?
We
are told that the seal of the servants of God was placed on their foreheads
(cf. Revelation 7:3). Elsewhere we are told that this seal is the sign of the tau, the Greek letter T; the seal of the
servants of God is the Cross (cf. Ezekiel 9:4). On the day of our Baptisms, a
priest traced the Sign of the Cross on our foreheads and as he did so, said, “I
now claim you for Christ our Savior by the Sign of his Cross.” When the Bishop
confirmed us with the Sacred Chrism, he again traced the Sign of the Cross on
our foreheads, saying, “Be sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit.” The
Saints, too, have been sealed in the same way. What is it, then, that
differentiates us from them?
Throughout
their lives – or at least toward the end of their lives – they longed to ascend
the mountain of the Lord and to stand in his holy place (cf. Psalm 24:3). Put
perhaps more simply, they wanted – more than anything else – to be with God, to
look upon the beauty of his face (cf. Psalm 24:6). Each of the Saints
recognized the truth of Saint Augustine’s words: “You stir man to pleasure in
praising you, because you have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless
until it rests in you.”[1]
Do you not know this to be true?
All
of the Saints survived the time of great distress by remaining near the Cross
of the Lord. They heard Jesus’ invitation: “If anyone wishes to come after me,
he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23); they
heard these words and did not shy away. Rather, they remembered that they were
sealed with this very sign, that they were claimed for Christ, that they were
not their own because they were purchased at the price of the Blood of the Son
of God (cf. I Corinthians 6:20).
Each
of them encountered their own time of great distress. For some, it was
religious persecution and martyrdom; for others, it was rejection by their
family and friends; for some, it was the renunciation of wealth; still for
others, a battle with pride or a period of spiritual dryness. In all of this,
they clung to Jesus Christ and to his Cross.
How
many forms the time of great distress has taken in our own day! There is the
great distress of divorce and abortion; of unreturned love and feelings of
inadequacy. There is the distress of economic ruin, the destruction of powerful
storms, and violent attacks. And with these distresses, the distresses of the
Saints’ remain. Yet even so, hope resounds: “These are the ones who have
survived the time of great distress; they have washed their robes and made them
white in the Blood of the Lamb” (Revelation 7:14). In the lives of the Saints,
we learn, as J.R.R. Tolkien said, that “the Christian still has to work, with
mind as well as body, to suffer, hope, and die; but he may now perceive that
all his bents and faculties have a purpose, which can be redeemed.”[2]
Looking
upon the glory of the Saints, we see our own weakness reflected against their strengths.
Saint John the Baptist and Saint Thomas More gave up their lives in defense of
the sanctity of marriage. Saint Gianna Molla gave up her life to give birth to
her child. Saint Damien de Vuester and Saint Marianne Cope risked their health
to care for the lepers on Moloka’i. Saint Clare followed Saint Francis and
renounced her social status to gain a life of poverty. Saint Thomas Aquinas put
his great intellect at the service of the Church. Saint Therese of Lisieux showed
us the Little Way of love. Saint Augustine struggled against sexual temptations
and gave his heart to God.
There
are a great many other Saints, of course, each of whom who has given something
unique to the Church. Looking upon the Saints, we wonder: Can I really be like
them? Can I be holy? Can I really be a Saint? The answer is, quite simply and
honestly, yes. Yes, I can be a Saint, and so can each of you. What is necessary
for us to be holy is to remember that the seal of the servants of God has been
placed on our foreheads. In their personalities and dispositions, and in the
circumstances of their lives, the Saints are just like us.
We
think ourselves unworthy of being admitted to their great company, but that
decision is not up to us. We have to remember, as Tolkien said: “But in God’s
kingdom the presence of the greatest does not depress the small. Redeemed Man
is still man.”[3] The
Lord Jesus calls us his friends and wants us to be with him; who are we to
refuse his friendship (cf. John 15:15)?
The
Saints knew that friends become like their friends. So it was that they looked
to the Cross to learn the hidden beauty of the Beatitudes. In the Eucharist,
Saint Damien recognized the “one and only companion who will never leave me,”
the one who is the “most tender of friends with souls who seek to please
him.” He encourages us, as do all of the
Saints:
His goodness knows how to proportion itself to the
smallest of His creatures as to the greatest of them. Be not afraid then in
your solitary conversations, to tell Him of your miseries, your fears, your worries,
of those who are dear to you, of your projects, and of your hopes. Do so with
confidence and with an open heart.
This familiarity with the Lord is the key to the
holiness of the Saints; it is the key to our holiness, as well.
The
Saints, each in their own way, sought to imitate him who gave his life for us. These
men and women became his presence in the world; they became wells of love and
beacons of hope. They knew that “what the world is in particular need of today
is the credible witness of people enlightened in mind and heart by the word of
the Lord, and capable of opening the hearts and minds of many who desire for
true life, life without end.”[4]
If
you, my brothers and sisters, remain close to the Cross of our Lord; if you do
not flee from it but instead embrace it; if you let your heart rest in God;
then you will be such a credible witness and you will be holy. To be sure, this
is not an easy task, but it is a worthy one and to this you are called. You have been made for greatness; do not shy
away from it!
As
you strive for holiness, be not concerned with the opinions of your peers or of
society, but keep in mind the wisdom of Gandalf the Grey: “All we have to
decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”[5]
What will you do with the time given you? Will you seek to ascend the mountain
of the Lord? Will you seek his face? He is calling you; do not stay away from
him. Be a saint!
[1] Saint Augustine of Hippo, Confessions, 1.1, Henry Chadwick, trans.
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 3.
[2] J.R.R. Tolkien, “On Fairy
Stories,” in Tales from the Perilous
Realm (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2008), 389.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Pope Benedict XVI, Porta Fidei, 15.
[5] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring: Being the First
Part of The Lord of the Rings (Boston:
Houghton Mifflin Company, 1994), 50.
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