All Souls Day: Threshold of Life

It has been ten years since the death of my brother-in-law Tony. I grew up with Tony as a member of my family. When I was born, he and my oldest sister were dating, and when I was four, they were married. The summer before he died, he and my sister celebrated their twentieth wedding anniversary. For me, Tony was a big brother and a father figure who taught me to water ski, who nurtured a love of the outdoors, modeled a healthy respect for nature, and most important, taught me to be patient with myself in living life.

In 1989, Tony had been sick for most of the year with pneumonia and an enlarged spleen. In November, a week before Thanksgiving, he had surgery to remove his spleen. Five days later, he slipped into a coma. He endured a rare blood disease that rapidly destroyed his brain and nervous system. Ten days later, Tony died from a blood disease linked to Agent Orange from his time serving in Vietnam.

On the day he died, I was driving from Louisville to Bardstown, Kentucky, for a diocesan meeting. I sensed that his time had come. Somehow I knew in the gut of my being that he would die that day. I started praying, crying, and singing out loud while I was driving along the interstate. It was early evening, and the sun was just setting behind the hills in the distance. As I was praying, I looked in the direction of the sun and saw Jesus and Tony walking over the hill toward me. They were holding hands. Jesus stopped, and Tony continued walking forward. He embraced me and we said good-bye to each other. A feeling of peace came over me, as I knew Tony would be all right, and his suffering would be no more. I prayed to Jesus saying that it was okay to take Tony home. My prayer ended as they walked back over the hill and were gone. I realized that I was still driving the car and prayed in gratitude that only by the grace of God I did not hit anyone or cause an accident during my prayer.

I miss Tony very much. I still sense his presence with me, and I thank God for that. I still hear his voice saying to me, "Denise, you do good work." I still hear him encouraging me to be patient with myself, and I still hear him say, "you be careful out there."

One of my friends who recently died of breast cancer was quoted as saying during the struggle with the disease, "we are all terminal." Too often we live in a culture that is afraid of death, tries to defy it or deny it. Speaking of death makes too many people uncomfortable or squeamish. Yet our Christian faith reminds us that death is a reality and part of the process of living. When we celebrate the triduum of feasts–All Hallow’s Eve, or Halloween (the very word hallow meaning "saint"), All Saints, and All Souls–we are reminded that death is not the end, it is only a threshold into eternal life with God.

We remember those who have died–the saints whom the church honors in its liturgical calendar. We also remember those "hidden" holy people in our lives–family, relatives, friends, loved ones, members of our parish community, the lonely, the outcast, the homeless–those who lead us to God and reflect the love of God by the sacredness of their lives. These somber feasts remind us that we are united with God and with one another in our relationships across all dimensions of life and death.

In the month of November, the church celebrates the communion of saints and souls, reiterating that death is not the end of life. In Baptism we die with Christ, and in death we live with Christ. Sometimes this feels like a paradox, and most often it is a mystery–to die with Christ in Baptism and to rise with Christ through death.

At the memorial service for the professional golfer Payne Stewart, who was killed in a plane crash, his friend Paul Azinger eulogized that this present reality is actually the land of the dying, and we are moving toward the land of the living. Too often we think that this earthly life is the land of the living. But it is ultimately the Mystery of dying with Christ in order to live with Christ for which we strive. And this is not an easy Mystery to endure. We are all terminal. At some point we must all cross that final threshold of death. The good news is that death is not the final word. The final Word is life in Jesus Christ.

Christ comes so that we might have life abundantly. The good news is that we are never alone. How often do you say to a friend or spouse, "Will you pray for me?" or "I need help" or "I thank God for you." Because death is not the final word, we can experience these ongoing relationships in a different manner–seeking the wisdom of the saints, asking them to intercede for us, praying for and with our loved ones who have died, and asking them to do the same for us. Tony’s advice and encouragement are as true for me now as they were for me then. Relationships rooted in God cannot be shaken or destroyed by death or time or any other dimension.

There are readings that point out we are not in charge of life (Malachi 1:14b–2:2b,8—10; 1 Thessalonians 2:7b—9,13; Matthew 23:1—12). The Scriptures remind us that the one God has created us, that God is the one teacher, that God is in charge, and we are to receive the Word of God in our lives. It is only in God that we find peace. So give thanks to God, for God is stronger than death.

This month take a moment to reflect more deeply on this Mystery of dying and living with Christ. Where have you seen the power of life in yourself, in others, in events? Let your prayer be one of gratitude and celebration. And where in your life have you encountered the power of death in yourself, in others, in events? Let your prayer be one of freedom and letting go.

Let us give thanks to God for the model of holiness in the lives of the saints, for the souls of our loved ones who have gone before us marked with the sign of faith, and for the hopeful reminder that death is not the final word. For our final word is life in Jesus Christ.