Sunday, November 02, 2008 Mercado: ‘Washing things clean’ By Juan L. Mercado Sidebar
“FOR Halloween, I dressed up as a pirate,” our six-year old grand-daughter Alexia said over the phone. “Tai came as a princess.”
Abandoned in China, the now two-year-and-a-half Tai had been adopted by our daughter Malu and husband Jan. Home for them is San Mateo in California.
Grandchildren here bring flowers and light candles on graves for All Souls' Day. "They'll do that for us, sooner rather than later," the wife mused. "Oh, that," I murmured.
Halloween is a contraction of “All Hallows Eve” (All Saints Day). It marked the Celtic new year. In 1848, Irish immigrants brought those spooky rites to the US. It became today’s fun-filled kids’ feast.
But reaching for the departed goes back thousands of years. “It is a good and wholesome thought to pray for the dead,”
declares the ancient Book of Macabees.
The Benedictine abbot Oddilo of Cluny picked Nov. 2 for remembrance in year 998. This practice spread to other countries.
“We thank you Lord for the faithful dead, who have made the distant heavens a home for us, and whose truth and beauty are, even now, in our hearts,” an ancient prayer says. “We thank you for the deep the mysteries that lie beyond our mortal dust, and for the eyes of faith which you opened for all those who believe in your Son to outlook that mark.”
Whenever All Souls’ Day comes around, news desks are swamped with humdrum reports: traffic jams, jostling crowds, to squatters living in crammed cemeteries. That is not all there is to this rite?
The familiar, however, can blur realities beyond the customary: from votive candles to, cemeteries turned into two-day cities, zapped by karaokes. The central – and stunning -- reality remains that of life beyond a handful of ashes.
"We call that 'the communion of saints,'” Oblate professor Ron Rolheiser explains. Enshrined in the Creed, "it asks us to believe: we’re still in real community of life and communication with those who have died.”
“They're linked to us in such a way we can continue to talk with them;" Fr. Rolheiser writes. “Our relationship with them can continue to grow: Reconciliation that wasn't possible, before their deaths, can now occur.”
“Often in a family, a friendship or community we experience tension, anger, differences, hurts that can't be undone. And then everything changes because someone dies. Death brings a peace, a clarity, and a charity, not possible before. Why?
"It's not simply because death took someone out of the family, the office, or circle of friends, or even, the source of tension.
It happens because, as Luke's account of Jesus on the cross teaches, death washes things clean.
"Today you will be with me in paradise!"
Jesus spoke those words to the good thief on the cross. And they're meant for every one of us who dies without having had time and opportunity to make all the amends and speak all the apologies that we owe.
“There is still time after death, on both sides, for reconciliation and healing to happen. Because inside the communion of saints, we have privileged access to each other. And there we can finally speak all of those words that we couldn't speak before. We can reach across death's divide.
“It is gift to die a happy death, reconciled in love, with no unfinished business.
But, happily, there's time still after death for this to happen for those of us who aren't so lucky and who end up dying with some bitterness, anger, wound, and frustration still gnawing away.”
“For our school Halloween program, I dressed up as a fairy,” our five-year old grand-daughter Kristin told us. Her younger sister Kathie, 2, “came as a witch.”
On some All Souls Day, sooner rather than later, our grandchildren will bring flowers and light candles for us. Before that, the wife and I must speak to them about “the communion of saints.”
