Comemoration of All the Faithful Departed

Seen it on a tombstone: "Remember me as you pass by. As you are now, so once was I. As I am now, one day you'll be. So stop and say a prayer for me."  This simple verse highlights something that I've always believed about All Souls Day.  It's not simply a call to pray for our deceased loved ones. It's also an awakening to our own mortality. 

As to the first point, the Church has always taught that it's a good and wonderful thing to pray for the deceased.  In addition I feel it's good to pray to our loved ones.  We Catholics have great devotion to saints such as St. Anthony, St. Jude, St. Therese, etc.  But what about our own 'saints,' our unofficially canonized saints, like parents, siblings, and other loved ones?  If we believe in faith that God is everywhere and that our loved ones are with God, then they are everywhere also. They become our very special intercessors with God in the communion of saints.

I've found that the losses in my life of family and friends become less painful when I keep the relationship alive through communication.  For example, I talk to my mother and father throughout the day, sharing my life, asking for blessings for myself and others and thanking them for the 'miracles' I've received. I have always been comforted by the post-Resurrection Gospel scenes where Jesus appears to his friends.  This shows me that relationships do continue in the next life. 

As to the second point - the awakening to our own mortality - I've found that communication with those who've gone before me makes the thought of death less fearful.  In fact, psychologists tell us that the fear of dying is a normal human fear. (I once heard of a man who was so fearful of dying that he became a hypochondriac and was anointed so many times that he wound up going to a dermatologist for oily skin.) 

But back to the awakening; let me share one experience that has helped me in facing my mortality.  Two refugee priests from different Communist countries had experienced similar terrifying tortues and punishments during their years of imprisonment.  But their most painful suffering occurred when on a given evening each was told, "This is your last meal.  Tomorrow you DIE!"  The following morning they were led before a firing squad, blindfolded, and then trembled as they heard the command: "Ready, aim, fire!"  How stunned they were to discover they were still alive.  The soldiers had been ordered to shoot above the heads of the two priests.  The Communists repeated this charade 15 times over a period of 10 months.  What most touched me is that in befriending "Sister Death," as St. Francis called her, they had no more fear of death.  But even more inspiring was their willingness to forgive their captors and their ability to live joyfully in the present moment.  Both of these men were fully alive by living where God dwells, in the NOW of our lives.

It's so easy to crucify ourselves between the two thieves of regrets for our yesterdays and fears for our tomorrows.  In living that way we miss being present to and receiving the strength from our God who lives and loves us in the moment called "Now."  How blessed we and all souls are to be so loved.