Thursday 2nd November 2006All Souls Day

Fr David Cherry

Isaiah 25:6-9  ; Romans  5  : 5 - 11 ; John  17  :  1 – 3  &  24 - 26

And this is the Father’s will, that of all which he hath given me I should lose nothing, but should raise it up again at the last day.  

The Christian religion is primarily a liturgical religion.  It is a religion of something happening to us.  It is about what God does to and towards us more than about what we do. Liturgy and Music are designed not to excite or thrill, not to wind us up into enthusiasm like a Nuremburg rally, neither to tantalise or entertainment.  

...we plead so that our hearts can receive what is already there...

It has been said that the gospel coming near us is to ‘disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed.’

The words we give voice to from holy Scripture, the words we sing are to bring home to us the reality of who we are and who God is to us.  And this is quite stark on All Souls Day.  We find ourselves, frail creatures of dust, pleading in solidarity with all who have died for God’s loving mercy towards us : creatures before a loving Creator.

Thou only art immortal, The Creator and Maker of man ….goes the Contakion

And we are mortal, formed of the earth and unto earth shall we return

For so thou didst ordain, when thou createdst me saying

Dust thou art and unto dust shalt thou return….

All we go down to the dust…; and weeping o’er the grave we make our song :

alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

We are invited to feel what we are, who we are: mortal; to feel what is ultimately real and true about us.  Not in order to scare us but in order to draw another fruit, a redeeming fruit for our lives.  

There is a barrenness about this reality and true place.  It reminds me of Good Friday.  What’s to be done after celebrating the liturgy of the Lord’s death.  Boil an egg?   What is there to do, what is to be done in the face of death and mortality?  There a sense of ‘being brought to an end’ as the psalmist says.  “From day to night you bring me to an end.”   What’s to be done?

Absolutely nothing of course, but to be helpless and wait there without attempting to rescue ourselves by happy thoughts and the delusions of human invincibility we inevitably reach for.  This is true.  At rock bottom; we all go down to the dust.   We cannot grasp the truth, the sense.  We cannot redeem ourselves.  Being brought to an end is part of the gift.  The meaning must be given and received, discovered.

And here Durufle can help us with the movement through emotions, those complex feelings.  We plead Lord have mercy; we feel the terror and anxiety of the Dies Irae, the fear of judgement, and ultimately at last find consolation in the tenderness of the Pie Jesu and In Paradisum.   

Yet we plead not to a God who needs to change his mind towards us.  Rather we plead so that our hearts can receive what is already there, loving kindness directed towards us in our mortality.  

Here we are invited to find ourselves, no longer individuals, but rather those celebrating in God’s loving memory all the departed in whose company we all stand; that solidarity where ‘each man’s death diminishes me’  - as Donne writes – ‘because I am involved in mankind.  And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls it tolls for thee.’
   
We are invited to know ourselves as we truly are in communion with the departed in Christ  - this strange reality of looking into the grave, allowing ourselves to be possessed by a quiet confidence as we stare into the face of death and find ourselves able to say: alleluia.   

Alleluia: we do not believe in death, but in the resurrection of the dead.

Here we are invited to receive and allow that Communion which transcends the barren place to take hold of us and transform us.  That is what we are celebrating in Holy Communion : the Christ who is present to us now is the same Christ present to our loved ones.

For “this is the Father’s will, that of all which he hath given me I should lose nothing, but should raise it up again at the last day.” Amen

________________________________________________

No man is an island, entire of itself
every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main
if a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were,
as well as if a man or of thy friends or of thine own were
any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind
and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls
it tolls for thee.    John Donne