Many of us in “temperate” climates feel a wistfulness as October fades and autumn loses its visual splendor to the shorter days and longer shadows of November. The air becomes more chilled than crisp; trees are shorn of their multicolored leaves by the whipping rains, leaving bare branches raised to heaven, as though in supplication for their own renewal. It is a time that the novelist Rumer Godden described as being “full of howling winds and holy souls.” That sounds dreary, though, doesn’t it? Even the Church seems to have fallen into a depressive mood, at the beginning of November, and says, “It’s November and everything is gloomy, so let’s bring out our dead!”
Despite this, I rarely leave Mass feeling more cheerful than I do after observing All Saints Day. Aside from being reminded of the heavenly multitudes, in whose happiness we all should wish to share, there is something about the day that makes me feel unusually proud of my church. All Saints Day makes me want to light candles and linger before the statues and images of our spiritual ancestors, and when I exit church I always look around at the busy world, the zooming cars, the shoppers with their bags, the people staring at their smartphones, and I think, “In the midst of all of this passing distraction, we have taken time to remember what and who has come before us, to honor our past in order to believe in our future, to ask the prayers of saints for the sake of the whole world. And it is a beautiful thing to do, and you are welcome, passing, distracted world!
There is a great deal more affection than bragging in the thought, but yes, I do always feel proud of our Church for this mindfulness amid our preoccupied modernism.
When I was a child learning about the saints, I thought of their lives of sainthood as unreachable. In the short story we heard about these people’s lives, they seemed to do everything right. Saints suffered, sure, but they did not fall and make mistakes. Becoming one seemed unrealistic to me. Through the years, though, I heard the rest of their stories, the longer versions. These people who became saints were not perfect or without sin, they were fully human. They were no different than the rest of us, they just spent more time listening to God, hearing that call that is sounded daily. They spent time in prayer, they became strong. Even when persecuted, they did not falter, but remained strongly convicted.
We each have had to face many trials, from peer pressure, to follow a less than holy life, to ostracism for strongly believing in what the Church teaches, such as the Pro-Life issues. Some in our century have gone through the gravest suffering of torture and loss of life for their religious convictions. Even today, the Church is compiling a list of the names of people who have died this past century for their faith. The count is over 10,000 that we know about, and these names are likely to be only a drop in the bucket. Each year, the Church gives witness to these people so that all may know them.
Today’s readings include Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, a listing of the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:1-12). Let us spend some time today in this reading, listening to the call to be holy. Sit with the message and let it soak into your heart. After all, holiness is attractive.
All Saints Day is an excellent time to consider choosing a patron saint for the new liturgical year that is coming in a few short weeks. This is a common practice for religious men and women, but one that has become increasingly popular with the rest of the Church in recent years. Each November day, write the name of a saint on a slip of paper, fold it, and store it in a jar or bowl. Encourage friends and family to do so as well. Then, on the Feast of Christ the King, say a prayer and pull a saint from that pile.
Trust in whoever you pick, study the life of that saint, and pray to that saint each day to be with you. This is a great opportunity for spiritual growth throughout the year. The saints remain the “great cloud of witnesses” who now comprehend all that we cannot while we reside on earth. To ask to be taught what they know seems to me like the beginning of wisdom.
May God Bless You and Grant You His Peace!