Homily
All Souls Day
2 November 2014
Christ the King Topeka
Readings
I've never enjoyed running, but I got on a fitness kick the last couple of years, and have done more running than ever in my life. A couple weeks ago I crossed an item off the bucket list, running a marathon with my friend Fr. Scott Wallisch. Honestly, I can't say that I enjoyed it that much. I'm glad I finished. Happy with my time. But the training and the race itself was time-consuming and painful. I love being in shape and having energy. But at times the training seemed prideful and selfish. I may or may not be retired from marathons at this point.
An exception to the doldrums of training, however, were the runs I made in Hoxie, Kansas. A couple of the longer training runs I made in the town where I grew up. Hoxie has a sister parish in Seguin, Kansas about 10 miles to the west, and so my favorite training run was from Catholic Church to Catholic Church on country roads. I ran by a piece of ground my dad owns that we call Green Acres! Great dove hunting there! More importantly, however, was the chance I had to run by the Catholic cemetery, where my mom is buried. I visit my mom's grave every time I'm in Hoxie, usually by going on a run and taking a break there to say hi to my mom. Other times I'll go and offer a rosary. My favorite training run for the marathon was a 20 mile run that I dedicated to my mom. I had a long time to think about her. You all know what's it like to remember a loved one. The happy memories come back. The struggles too. You try to remember what their voice sounded like. I ask my mom always how she thinks I'm doing, and I try to listen to her response. Then I ask mom how things would be different if she were here, and think about what it would be like to kiss her, to hold her, to tell her I love her, and to enjoy the journey of life with her. I ask God why he took her, because life would be better if she was still here. And I wait for God's response. I love visiting my mom's grave. I know many of you love visiting your beloved dead as well.
Because Jesus himself spent three days in a tomb, the graves of our loved ones are signs of hope, that promise resurrection. It is important that we visit the graves of our loved ones. I have my grave picked out as well, in a good spot where I hope people will pass by and say a little prayer for me. As Christians, we must not live in fear of death. Death is something that has been entered into and conquered by Christ. We give our lives away in love, and sacrifice to the point of our own death in imitation of Christ. Death is not to be avoided, it is something we actively choose long before death has a chance to choose us. Priests wear black to signify that they have entered into the noble death of our Lord. We should not avoid cemeteries. Instead, we should visit them often, and draw close to the vulnerability that is part of being human, and meditate on the shortness of our lives.
Most of all, though, we should pray for our beloved dead. And this is where I confess that I fall short, especially with my mom. I consider my mom a saint, not a soul in purgatory. She was amazing, and such a better person than I will ever be. I don't idolize her. She would be the first to say that she wasn't perfect. But especially through her battle with cancer, I experienced a love and courage and faith worthy of heaven. I think that she is there. So I ask my mom to help me, and to interceded for me, which only makes sense if she is among the communion of Saints. In fact, on November 1st, All Saints Day, I think of my mom in a special way, knowing that she hasn't been canonized I still can't think of anyone more saintly who has helped me more. On All Saints we celebrate that the holy ones with God are able to share spiritual goods with us, and we pray for them to help us!
I neglect however, my responsibility to help my mom get to heaven. I assume she's there, but I shouldn't. None of us should assume that our loved ones are there. We can hope for it, and believe in it, but we should never stop interceding for them. I need to keep saying Masses for my mom. It is my responsibility, and my great privilege, to share any merits or suffering or graces with her. I should spend a lot more time asking my mom what I can do for her, and if she needs any help in her final purification and journey, and I should give anything I have to her rather than keeping it for myself. That's what love does, and my mom if she is in that final purification is dependent upon the merits and sacrifices shared with her. The final purification or journey through purgatory is the most difficult journey of our lives. The passover from being good to becoming holy and perfect is much more difficult than the conversion from bad to good. I shouldn't assume that my mom is in heaven. That's a bad way to love her. Instead, I should be particularly sensitive that my mom can no longer work out her own merits and salvation. She is dependent, like one going through surgery, upon the skill and care of others. If still on her way to heaven, my mom is vulnerable, and I should not neglect to pray for her as much as I can. As Catholics, we celebrate that Jesus shared his spiritual treasure, the merits of his paschal victory, first of all with the one dearest to him, his mother, and we celebrate both her Immaculate Conception, and her Assumption into heaven as the highest example of the sharing of spiritual goods from Christ to Mary, a sharing that we are all invited to enter into when we pray and sacrifice for one another.
That's what All Souls Day, and the month of November is all about for us Catholics. It's an intense sharing of spiritual goods with our beloved who have gone before us. November is the time, at the end of the liturgical year, when we meditate about final things. It is a time to think especially about death and the final judgment. Then Advent will be here when we begin searching for the light that announces the beginning of our salvation. But for this month, we think about final things. Knowing where we want to end up shows us precisely the intense purification that we must begin now. And we pray intensely for our beloved dead who can no longer pray for themselves, and we enter their names into our parish book of the dead as a holy remembrance.
Eternal rest grant unto them O Lord, and let the perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. May their souls, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
All Souls Day
2 November 2014
Christ the King Topeka
Readings
I've never enjoyed running, but I got on a fitness kick the last couple of years, and have done more running than ever in my life. A couple weeks ago I crossed an item off the bucket list, running a marathon with my friend Fr. Scott Wallisch. Honestly, I can't say that I enjoyed it that much. I'm glad I finished. Happy with my time. But the training and the race itself was time-consuming and painful. I love being in shape and having energy. But at times the training seemed prideful and selfish. I may or may not be retired from marathons at this point.An exception to the doldrums of training, however, were the runs I made in Hoxie, Kansas. A couple of the longer training runs I made in the town where I grew up. Hoxie has a sister parish in Seguin, Kansas about 10 miles to the west, and so my favorite training run was from Catholic Church to Catholic Church on country roads. I ran by a piece of ground my dad owns that we call Green Acres! Great dove hunting there! More importantly, however, was the chance I had to run by the Catholic cemetery, where my mom is buried. I visit my mom's grave every time I'm in Hoxie, usually by going on a run and taking a break there to say hi to my mom. Other times I'll go and offer a rosary. My favorite training run for the marathon was a 20 mile run that I dedicated to my mom. I had a long time to think about her. You all know what's it like to remember a loved one. The happy memories come back. The struggles too. You try to remember what their voice sounded like. I ask my mom always how she thinks I'm doing, and I try to listen to her response. Then I ask mom how things would be different if she were here, and think about what it would be like to kiss her, to hold her, to tell her I love her, and to enjoy the journey of life with her. I ask God why he took her, because life would be better if she was still here. And I wait for God's response. I love visiting my mom's grave. I know many of you love visiting your beloved dead as well.
Because Jesus himself spent three days in a tomb, the graves of our loved ones are signs of hope, that promise resurrection. It is important that we visit the graves of our loved ones. I have my grave picked out as well, in a good spot where I hope people will pass by and say a little prayer for me. As Christians, we must not live in fear of death. Death is something that has been entered into and conquered by Christ. We give our lives away in love, and sacrifice to the point of our own death in imitation of Christ. Death is not to be avoided, it is something we actively choose long before death has a chance to choose us. Priests wear black to signify that they have entered into the noble death of our Lord. We should not avoid cemeteries. Instead, we should visit them often, and draw close to the vulnerability that is part of being human, and meditate on the shortness of our lives.
Most of all, though, we should pray for our beloved dead. And this is where I confess that I fall short, especially with my mom. I consider my mom a saint, not a soul in purgatory. She was amazing, and such a better person than I will ever be. I don't idolize her. She would be the first to say that she wasn't perfect. But especially through her battle with cancer, I experienced a love and courage and faith worthy of heaven. I think that she is there. So I ask my mom to help me, and to interceded for me, which only makes sense if she is among the communion of Saints. In fact, on November 1st, All Saints Day, I think of my mom in a special way, knowing that she hasn't been canonized I still can't think of anyone more saintly who has helped me more. On All Saints we celebrate that the holy ones with God are able to share spiritual goods with us, and we pray for them to help us!I neglect however, my responsibility to help my mom get to heaven. I assume she's there, but I shouldn't. None of us should assume that our loved ones are there. We can hope for it, and believe in it, but we should never stop interceding for them. I need to keep saying Masses for my mom. It is my responsibility, and my great privilege, to share any merits or suffering or graces with her. I should spend a lot more time asking my mom what I can do for her, and if she needs any help in her final purification and journey, and I should give anything I have to her rather than keeping it for myself. That's what love does, and my mom if she is in that final purification is dependent upon the merits and sacrifices shared with her. The final purification or journey through purgatory is the most difficult journey of our lives. The passover from being good to becoming holy and perfect is much more difficult than the conversion from bad to good. I shouldn't assume that my mom is in heaven. That's a bad way to love her. Instead, I should be particularly sensitive that my mom can no longer work out her own merits and salvation. She is dependent, like one going through surgery, upon the skill and care of others. If still on her way to heaven, my mom is vulnerable, and I should not neglect to pray for her as much as I can. As Catholics, we celebrate that Jesus shared his spiritual treasure, the merits of his paschal victory, first of all with the one dearest to him, his mother, and we celebrate both her Immaculate Conception, and her Assumption into heaven as the highest example of the sharing of spiritual goods from Christ to Mary, a sharing that we are all invited to enter into when we pray and sacrifice for one another.That's what All Souls Day, and the month of November is all about for us Catholics. It's an intense sharing of spiritual goods with our beloved who have gone before us. November is the time, at the end of the liturgical year, when we meditate about final things. It is a time to think especially about death and the final judgment. Then Advent will be here when we begin searching for the light that announces the beginning of our salvation. But for this month, we think about final things. Knowing where we want to end up shows us precisely the intense purification that we must begin now. And we pray intensely for our beloved dead who can no longer pray for themselves, and we enter their names into our parish book of the dead as a holy remembrance.
Eternal rest grant unto them O Lord, and let the perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. May their souls, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
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