This week we celebrate All Saints, the commemoration of all the sinners who
became saints and enjoy the fullness of life with God. We also tack on All
Souls, the remembrance of all those who, in a way unknown to us, are still on
the journey and we pray for them.
In the Mass for All Souls we read, ‘what proves God’s love for us is that Christ
died for us while we were still sinners’. To be human is to be a sinner. In a way
that the Church strives to explain since the day the Book of Genesis was
written, the human family appeared on the planet incomplete, unfulfilled, and
the word chosen to describe this was ‘sinful’.
Yet, like every plant and animal, a human being spends its life groping,
searching, for fulfilment. Think of a street vendor in Harare or a famous
comedian like Matthew Perry who has just died as a result of drugs. Whoever
we are, we are – mostly – trying our best to make a go of things. We are on the
move from being sinners to being saints.
We are celebrating the feast of All Saints, a moment to rejoice with all those
who have made it to the fulfilment of our home in the Blessed Kingdom. We
remember the famous ones, Peter and Paul, Teresa and Catherine and all the
ones we recall in the litany of the saints. We also remember all the great people,
many we have known, who do not have St before their names.
And we are not just remembering them. We know that we are on the way
following them and where they are is where Jesus told his disciples he wanted
us to be too. ‘Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I
am’ (John 17:24). That is where we are going. We have a little time here, a time
of personal preparation but also of communal concern for others. The two are
one as we saw in last Sunday’s gospel
All Saints is a feast of the gathering of the people of God in every place and
time. We imagine ourselves in the presence of God and the whole gathering of
heaven. It is a moment of consolation. But we cannot remain ‘standing there
looking into the sky’ (Acts 1:11). We have work to do. We have less happy
gatherings to sort out, like the people of Gaza crowded into a confined space
without food, water or care, almost without hope.