Today the Church celebrates All Souls Day, a time to pray for those who have gone before us in faith. St. Paul reminds us that after death comes judgment.
It’s easy to imagine this judgment as a courtroom scene: God as the judge, we as the defendants and a long list of our sins as evidence against us. But I tend to see it differently. God is far greater than a tally of good and bad deeds.
I believe He views every fall from grace as a lack of love in our lives. We fall short when we don’t recognize the Lord’s loving presence. But at the moment of death, God reveals His perfect love for us, even though our response to that love during our lives can sometimes be imperfect.
When I picture Purgatory, I think of the prodigal son’s homecoming. Dirty and disheveled, he feels unworthy. We have all felt that way at times. Yet the father doesn’t search for faults or dwell on accusations. He simply runs to embrace his son. In that embrace, the son fully understands his father’s immense love and recognizes how little he returned it. That moment of realization is Purgatory.
If I asked if you want to go to Heaven, the answer would surely be yes. But if I asked if you want to die, you might hesitate or say no. But, my friends, we must understand that we cannot have one without the other.
The Book of Wisdom assures us: “The souls of the just are in the hands of God, and no torment shall touch them. They are at peace; their hope is full of immortality.” Here we encounter the Bible’s first use of the word “immortality,” another name for eternal life – the deepest desire of the human heart. There is no greater wish than to live forever with God.
It’s what St. Augustine meant when he said, “Our hearts are truly restless, Lord, until they rest in You.”
It seems fitting that All Souls Day takes place in November, when nature itself is dying, falling to the earth and preparing for the chill of winter. However, we must remember that death touches every season and every age. Even children learn it through the loss of a beloved pet.
So, where does that leave us, the ones who are still living? Most of us have grieved someone dear. We know death can feel tragic and sad, and that sorrow is ours to bear. We will no longer hear the familiar voice of a departed loved one, or see their face in this world again. There is unspeakable pain in losing a husband or a wife, a brother or sister, a mother or father.
But what bridges the gap between the living and the dead? The answer is simple. It is love. Love is stronger than anything – even death. Scripture tells us so.
The Song of Songs in the Old Testament proclaims that love is stronger than death. St. Paul urges the Thessalonians not to grieve the dead, like the ones who have no hope, and reminds us that in the end, only faith, hope and love remain – and the greatest of these is love.
One of the many beauties of our Catholic faith is that it teaches us that we can pray for our departed loved ones, just as we pray for the living.
None of us wish to die, not because our faith is weak, but because we understand that life is a gift. Yet when the moment of death arrives, we can hold fast to this promise:
“In death, life has not ended – it is merely changed.”
Shortly after starting on my recovery journey, my father sent me a bible which had the parable of the prodigal son marked. Today I can state with the utmost certainty that my heavenly Father, my earthly parents and my siblings all loved me during the times that I had fallen from grace. My parents and oldest sister have since passed and I still pray for them as well as my youngest brother who was the first to pass. Thank you Father Bob for reminding me that “in death life has not ended but has merely changed” Praise be to the Lord Jesus Christ.