Sermon for All Saints Day
Solemn High Pontifical Mass for Eucharistic Rosary Rally
Star of the Sea Parish
Introduction
Many years ago I found myself in the Chicago area during the month of October, attending a marriage event where I also took advantage of the opportunity to visit a seminary classmate and good friend of mine. I always knew how spiritually advanced he was, far more than I, and he manifested that once again. Being from California, where we don’t have such a drastic change of seasons, I was struck by how beautiful the leaves were in the heart of the autumn season, brilliant, vibrant colors of the leaves on the trees.
He observed to me that the leaves turn these brilliant colors right before they die and fall off of the tree. He mentioned how this is symbolic of the Christian life: those who excel in holiness of life go out in a blaze of glory when they leave this world. And this is actually the originating motive from which this feast day of All Saints has its origins from ancient times: a feast day to commemorate all the martyrs. Those who shed their blood in witness to fidelity to Christ undergo the most glorious death of all.
Diversity of Sanctity
Originally, very early on, the martyrs were the ones who were considered to be the saints. We can see how the Church of Rome recognized these martyrs in other ways, too. For example, in the year 609, a church was dedicated in honor of “Our Lady and All Martyrs.” It was some time after this dedication that a special feast day developed to honor all of the saints, not just martyrs. What happened was that new categories of saints emerged, especially after the time of persecution. Those who were not martyrs were called “confessors,” because of their heroic virtue in witnessing to their confession of the faith.
It speaks to the diversity of holiness manifested in the Church throughout the ages, as represented in the variety of vocations, cultures and states of life of those whom the Church has inscribed into her roll of saints. As St. Augustine teaches us in one of his sermons, the Kingdom of Heaven is a garden with a wide variety of beautiful flowers: the red roses of the martyrs, yes, but also the white lilies of virgins (those in consecrated life), the purple violets of widowed persons, and the green ivy of married couples.
The Church’s liturgy, too, takes great delight in this diversity of holiness, as especially exemplified in the Roman Canon. As the Jesuit Fr. Raymond Moloney writes in his book “Our Eucharistic Prayers in Worship, Preaching & Study” (pp. 89-90):
Modern man is too often in a hurry, and often we … grow impatient with the long lists of saints in this canon. But this variety is part of the spirit of celebration. The Roman Canon seems to take special delight in the diversity to be found among the people of God, and so its attention moves from the angels in the preface to the pope and the bishops, from the apostles and their successors to the offerers of this particular Mass, from the patriarchs of old to the Church of the end times, the faithful departed, the virgins and the martyrs. With this last development the prayer draws towards the climax which comes in the doxology where the Church anticipates that final consummation when Christ will hand over the kingdom to the Father (cf. 1 Cor. 15:24ff). It is prayer in movement… In our act of worship we are part of a great procession through time, moving solemnly but inevitably towards the final act of surrender, when God will be all in all.
Heaven is, indeed, a flower garden displaying a brilliant array of colors from its multivalent collection of flowers, not unlike the brilliant array of colors displayed on the leaves of trees right before those leaves die and fall off. And so it is that all those who attain true sanctity of life leave this world in a brilliant array of holiness that gives glory to God. But what does that holiness look like while they are living in this world?
Life of Beatitude
Our Lord gives us that description, which we hear proclaimed in the Gospel every year on this feast day of All Saints: the Beatitudes. Holy people are those who are poor in spirit, who mourn, who are meek, who hunger and thirst for righteousness, who are merciful, clean of heart and peacemakers; and even those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness. These are the ones our Lord proclaims “blessed,” living a life of beatitude. They are called “Beatitudes” because “beatitude” simply means “happiness.” Beatus in Latin means “happy”; moreover, in the Church’s lexicon, the words “beatus” and “sanctus” (saint, or holy) are synonymous. This is what it means to be holy, sanctus: to be beatus, happy.
The one who is advanced in sanctity is someone who is happy – not, however, in the fleeting superficial sense that so many people confuse happiness with today, but rather in the true, deep, and lasting sense, the happiness that comes when one is at peace with God and with one’s conscience. And this, indeed, is the only way we can makes sense of the last Beatitude: to rejoice when being persecuted. Indeed, that last Beatitude is the reference point for all the others, if we go back to that principle of martyrdom. If you listen to it closely you will notice that the last Beatitude is unique in comparison to the others. Let us listen to it once again: “Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you falsely because of me.” Notice that there are two conditions here.
First: “Utter evil against you falsely” – that is, not incurring evil utterances for a legitimate reason. There is such a thing. If you do something insulting and then are insulted in return, that doesn’t count; that doesn’t lead to beatitude. And then there is the second condition: “Because of me.” Everyone in life has to suffer; everyone endures harsh treatment in some way or another and at some time or another in life, but it’s not any kind of suffering whatsoever that leads to beatitude – it is specifically what we suffer for the sake of Christ that gets us there, if we survive the time of distress. This, again, is the principle of martyrdom.
Now, there is one more thing that makes this Beatitude unique. Did you notice how Our Lord switches to the second person in this Beatitude? All of the others are in the third person, “Blessed are they.” Here, he makes it very personal: “Blessed are you.” As if he is saying, “And what about you? Will you betray me like Judas? Or will you be like the great multitude of my followers from every nation, race, people, and tongue, who did not bow down in homage to false gods, but washed themselves clean in my blood that I poured out for them, and who even poured out their blood for me, and so survived the time of great distress by not wavering in their worship of me, their only true God, Creator, Lord and Savior?”
Communion of the Three Parts of the Church
These are the ones who make up the “Church triumphant,” whom we honor today. They are the object of St. John’s vision, the “great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation, race, people, and tongue,” who stand “before the throne and before the Lamb, wearing white robes and holding palm branches in their hands,” and crying “out in a loud voice: ‘Salvation comes from our God, who is seated on the throne, and from the Lamb.’” They form one part of the Church. We pray to them.
Beginning tomorrow, and throughout the rest of this month of November in particular, and always, we pray for the part of the Church that is the Church suffering, those who have gone before us and are enduring their final purgation before being admitted to the beatific vision. And, of course, we pray with and for our fellow believers who, with us, make up the Church militant, struggling and striving as we do in this world, during this time of great distress, on our way to heaven, with the help of God’s grace.
And it is this, my friends, which gives us the conviction, motivation, and vision to live the last Beatitude, for all three parts of the Church are with us here at the Mass, the Divine Liturgy which unites heaven and earth. We are all here together – heaven, purgatory and earth – worshipping the one, true God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. It is expressed symbolically at the fractioning rite, after we pray to our common Father together: the priest breaks the host into three parts, and the smaller part he places into the chalice, mingling it with the Blood of Christ, to signify the Church triumphant, those who “have washed their robes and made them white in the Blood of the Lamb” (Ap 7:14). The other two, larger pieces remain outside the chalice, signifying the Church militant and suffering, still on pilgrimage to the life of perfect union with Christ.
Conclusion
It is a joy for us to honor all of the saints together in this Mass, as they spur us on to victory. Let us rely on their prayers, example and inspiration, so that we, like them, can survive this great period of distress, and through our witness of fidelity to our confession of faith attain the life of sanctity, giving glory to God when we depart from this world. And then be welcomed by Him into the Church triumphant, where we will worship Him face to face in the company of all of His holy ones forever and ever, world without end. Amen.
