By Sister Katherine Doyle
A few weeks ago, as I was walking down the street in Philadelphia, I was greeted by what looked like a fifteen-foot skeleton standing on the corner. It was unexpected and led me to reflect on why Halloween is such a popular holiday in the United States. While collecting lots of candy might be responsible, there is another possible reason. We want to connect with those who have gone before us. The teaching of “three deaths” reminds us that the first death is the moment one dies, the second, the moment of burial, and the third, when memory of the deceased fades. Memory is such a precious gift. It moves us across time, joining us to those who have gone before us. The Celtic tradition speaks of the “thin places,” places where the spirits of the dead move between heaven and earth. Memory is such a place.
The feasts of All Saints and All Souls call us to remember the witness and nearness of our deceased family members, sisters, friends and all who have touched our lives. The Hebrew tradition teaches us that ”that to remember is to make present.” The celebration of the Day of the Dead exemplifies that understanding as photos of beloved dead are brought to a prayer altar, candles are lighted, food is shared. It is not the same as current Halloween practice. It is an expression of faith in our belief in the communion of saints, in our belief that life is not ended but transformed in death.
This year my belief in our communion in Christ Jesus has been fueled by the experience of familial deaths. My brother and his 10- year-old grandson died within weeks of each other. Both unexpected. The knowledge that they were still with us in Christ Jesus carried the family through the sorrow and pain of the loss. It is in our prayer to and with them that we are reunited in a profound way. It is the same with all the saints. We pray to them because they are like lights showing us the path to holiness. We emulate their actions for justice, their fidelity in the face of challenge, their constancy in times of darkness as well as times of light. In their lives, we discover how God works in our lives, and become more attuned to the Spirit moving within us. Our saints are companions as well as witnesses.
In these days of global disruption and violence, the witness of persons like the Monks of Tibhirine, Saint Francis and his visit to the Sultan, the four women martyrs of El Salvador, challenge us to do what we can do for peace and justice. As we go forward in Mercy, seeking to respond to the needs of our time, we find courage and inspiration from the lives of the sisters who have gone before us, not only our founding mothers but our contemporary sisters, women like Sister Marie Chin, witness for us interculturality; Sister Gerri Naughton shows us how to walk in solidarity with immigrants; Sister Mary Sullivan fuels our love for Mercy and Catherine. Our fervor is rekindled as we revisit them in memory.
The church provides a second feast, that of All Souls, for our reflection. Once, a mentor of mine shared that he thought of purgatory as beginning now with the suffering of life, as a time of letting go, a time of purifying love bringing you to where you see only God. It strips away self-sufficiency, desire for status, control or popularity. It is a time when we most need the prayer of others to sustain us in the journey, to give us the strength to carry the cross of suffering. All of us move through that mystery. In the timelessness of God, we cannot say when that transition is complete. We only know that we must pray for each other or as our Constitutions puts it raise up “Prayerful remembrances of the dead.” So “with all the saints who from their labors rest” let us join in prayer in joyful thanks for all the saints that live in our hearts and in our lives.