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The Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed (All Souls)
November 2, 2014
Church of Saint Ignatius Loyola
Joseph M. O’Keefe, S.J.
The leaves die and fall, the shadows lengthen, the ground becomes hard
and cold, and the days draw shorter. It is November. Today, and all during the
month, we Christians who live in the northern hemisphere echo the rhythm of
nature as we commemorate all of the faithful departed.
Several years ago The Chicago Tribune published an article entitled
“Letters from the Grave.” One of the letters was written by Captain Michael
McKinnon who as killed on October 27, 2005 when an improvised explosive
device detonated near his Humvee while he was on patrol in Iraq. I want to share
with you some excerpts of the letter that Captain McKinnon wrote:
“If you are reading this, then I failed to be fast enough, smart enough, or lucky
enough. Writing this is very difficult for me, so bear with me if I ramble along.
I needed to write this letter because there are some things that I needed to
say and that I wanted you to hear.”
To his wife, Captain McKinnon wrote:
“You are the love of my life. I’ll never forget the first time I saw you. You were
so beautiful. I had so much fun falling in love with you. I hope someday you
will find someone who loves you as much as I do. I want you to be with
someone who sees you as beautiful as I do. I became a better person after
meeting you – more complete. I believe there is a heaven and I think I have
been a good enough man to be there. I’ll watch over you and I’ll watch the
kids grow up with a tear in my eye wishing I were there to see with my own
eyes. When you think of me in years to come, I want you to celebrate my life
and not mourn my death.”
To his daughter, he wrote:
“I’m sorry I broke the promise I made to you when I said I was coming back.
You were the jewel of my life. You made me so happy every time I saw you. I
want you to know that I loved you more than you can ever imagine. I loved
every minute of my life that I spent with you. From the first time I held you,
to pushing you on the swings, playing steamroller and walking you to school.
I always felt that that was our little thing. I loved holding your hand and
walking you to class. You are a good girl. I am so proud of you. You made me
so happy. I will always be with you.”
And to his son:
“I remember holding you after you were born. You loved it when I stroked
your head. You made me very happy and proud. You are now the man of the
house. Try to live the rest of your life as the best man you can be. Take care of
your mom and your sister. I loved you very much and am proud to have had
you as a son. You brightened up my life whenever we spent together. I will
always be with you.”
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He concluded:
“Every time I was away, all I could think about is all of you. I want you to
know that my last thoughts in my life were of you. I don’t think that in any
letter I could ever say all that needs to be said, so I will end it here. I am
proud. I am happy. I have been filled with so much love. I will always be there
in your hearts. Love always and forever, Michael – Daddy”
“The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch
them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away
was thought an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they
are at peace.”
I’m not one for Ouija boards or séances, even though I was born and raised in
Salem, Massachusetts. I don’t claim to channel the dead like Theresa Caputo, the
Long Island medium whose show appears weekly on TLC. But I do recommend that
we set aside some time for prayer this month using our imagination, which, by the
way, is a longstanding Ignatian practice. Imagine if your beloved dead were to write
you letters from the grave. What would they want you to know? What emotions
would they want to express? What are the memories that they might highlight?
Would they mention issues that call for forgiveness, you forgiving them or they
forgiving you? Would they want to comfort you with simple words: “I am with you,”
“Do not be afraid,” “I love you,” “I will be with you again and you will hear my voice,
you will see my smile, you will feel my warm embrace.”
The leaves die and fall, the shadows lengthen, the ground becomes hard and
cold, and days draw shorter. At the approach of frost and chill, we harvest. But
spiritual writer Chris Sullivan reminds us that, as in spring, autumn is also a planting
season, but a different kind of planting season. She writes:
Autumn is a season not only of reaping but also for turning up the earth and
planting. Where in springtime we plant tender seeds and sprouts whose
green shoots we await anxiously, in autumn we bury bulbs. What we sow in
autumn rests, hidden in the ground to be hardened and readied through the
long, cold winter. We wait amid trees shedding their leaves and the
anticipation of ice and snow. We plant in faith, because it will be long before
we again see the green sprouts of daffodil and crocus and lily appearing
through the chilling soil.
In November, we plant in faith. When we bury our dead, we plant in faith.
When we commemorate the faithful departed today, we plant in faith. When we
relive the happy memories of our loved ones now gone, or when we lay to rest old
hurts or resentments, we plant in faith. When we heed the words of Saint Paul, that
we were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that we too might
live in newness of life, we plant in faith. When we believe the good news, that
everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, we plant in
faith. When we share the Eucharistic banquet that transcends time and space and
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unites earth to heaven, that brings to one table the living and the dead, we plant in
faith.
Today, on All Souls’ Day and every day this month, as we plant in faith, let us
make our own this prayer, taken from the Catholic funeral liturgy:
Lord our God, the death of our brothers and sisters recalls our human condition and
the brevity of our lives on earth. But for those who believe in your love, death is not
the end, nor does it destroy the bonds that you forge in our lives. We share the faith
of your Son’s disciples and the hope of the children of God. Bring the light of Christ’s
resurrection as we pray for our beloved dead.
Eternal rest grant unto them O Lord. May their souls and the souls of all the
faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. Amen.