Brief synopsis of the readings: Every year on November 1st we commemorate All Saints Day, and today, November 2nd we commemorate All Souls Day and the readings are different. In Wisdom we read that the “souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them.” The author goes on to describe how those who live justly will be rewarded: “Those who trust in him shall understand truth, and faithful shall abide with him in love.” John’s Gospel has Jesus telling the crowds that anyone who believes in him believes in the Father and “I shall raise him on the last day.”

I remember, as a child, thinking “All Souls Day” was a kind of consolation prize for those not chosen to be saints, kind of like the Miss Congeniality award in beauty pageants. All Saints Day was for the big hitters: St. Paul, St. Francis, the pastor’s mother. All Souls was for the rest of us who were good enough for Heaven but not good enough for our own feast day. We reserved All Saints Day for the ones with statues, for whom parishes were named, for those who got their own day (e.g. St. Patrick on March 17th). Interestingly enough the official understanding of All Souls Day is an encouragement to pray for loved ones who have died in the belief that this will shorten their time in Purgatory and get them into Heaven faster. And meaning no disrespect for this understanding, I don’t think this is how most of us see it. It’s as if, even after death, our loved ones still need us.

Instead I think we look at this commemoration as a connection we still feel for those we love who have died. As Catholics we are sometimes told what we believe by non Catholics and I’ve heard many times that we “worship saints instead of God.” I’ve had mixed results in this explanation but this is how I answer: Virtually all Christians find prayer beneficial and believe that we benefit when someone prays for us and we benefit others when we pray for them. But we don’t believe that someone’s prayers lose the ability to benefit us when they die. My grandfather was a woodworker and prayed often to St. Joseph (Jesus’ father) because St. Joseph was also a woodworker and my grandfather felt St. Joseph understood him. But when my grandfather was widowed I don’t think he continued to ask for my grandmother’s prayers and that makes me a little sad.

It’s unlikely that Pope Leo XIV or anyone in the Vatican will contact me for my opinion but if they did I would suggest that we combine All Saints Day and All Souls Day. When someone we love dies we certainly miss them and we experience a time of grief. And because of our faith we not only believe we will see them again, we believe we still have a connection even if we can’t see or hear them.

This is much on my mind because, as I write this, my own father died peacefully less than 24 hours ago. He had a long life (94 years) and his faith was deep. I know he prayed for me often and it comforts me to believe that he still can. He’s never going to be as famous as St. Joseph or St. Teresa of Calcutta (Mother Teresa) but that says more about our lack of imagination than about these saints. Countless people throughout history have lived lives of exemplary holiness but lived their lives without a cheering section or a good publicist. Yet they are remembered by those they left behind and also by the people those people touched. We revere St. Teresa of Calcutta not only for the people she touched directly in Calcutta but also for the people all over the world who found inspiration in her devotion. They went on to live exemplary lives that touched others, and so on. When we think about the people who inspired us can we measure their holiness? Is the coach who believed in us and uncovered our gifts holier than St. Paul who founded churches in Rome, or Corinth, or Galatia?

Maybe it doesn’t matter and we can let go of measuring. I’m impressed with military cemeteries because of the uniformity of the headstones. So much of the military is based on rank and there are strict protocols to behavior. But here, on the edge of salvation, the private is buried next to the general and the seaman lies next to the admiral and the stones are the same size.

When we grieve we attempt to rebuild our lives to take on a new reality we didn’t choose. But it also gives us the opportunity to look at the good things that person embodied and make them our own. When my grandfather prayed to St. Joseph he recognized that woodworking was an honorable way to make a living and support your family, much as St. Joseph supported Mary and Jesus. I think it also gave my grandfather the encouragement to continue to hone his craft and look at ways to become better and more precise. It gave him the desire to look at each piece of wood anew and understand how to improve it.

I need not remind anyone that our journey in this life can be complicated, full of laughter and pain, triumph and tragedy. But All Souls Day reminds us that we are not the first pioneers or the first trailblazers. The medieval philosopher William of Conches reminded us in 1123 that we stand on the shoulders of giants and even those giants stood on the shoulders of previous giants.

Perhaps All Souls Day reminds us that there are giants under our feet, but can also remind us to make room on our shoulders for the feet of others. My father was a quiet man who hated talking on the phone almost as much as he hated the spotlight. But he lived with about the strongest moral compass I ever experienced. While I’m certain he had never heard of William of Conches I believe they’re having a great discussion in Heaven.

May we all be blessed with sturdy feet and broad shoulders.