Of Saints and Souls
Posted By Christina M on November 11, 2024
November is the month of saints and souls. Although the Solemnity of All Saints and the Feast of All Souls each fall on a particular day, we offer the month in prayers for the dead, especially family, friends, and all the souls in purgatory. In a sense, it is a time dedicated to the Church itself, made up of the souls of the faithful. Older language, sometimes neglected today, describes the Church as three branches: the Church Militant (the souls on earth), the Church Suffering (the souls in purgatory), and the Church Triumphant (the saints in heaven.) In November we pay special attention to the Church Triumphant and the Church Suffering. But what about the Church Militant?
Our part is to celebrate the saints and pray for the saved who are waiting to enter heaven. But is there more? Every feast, every liturgy, offers not just a practice, but also a lesson to lead us to greater grace. The lesson of November, the big picture, is that we, the Church Militant, are intended for heaven. We may or may not stop in the mudroom of purgatory to wipe our feet first, but ultimately heaven is where we want to be, and where God wants us. He gives us the saints to remind us of what grace looks like in practice. Not all saints, however, are canonized and celebrated with a liturgical feast. The Bible tells a story of generation after generation of saints who often go unnamed. They didn’t do anything “big” enough to gain fame. They just lived lives of generosity, courage, and faith.
The wise men who greeted the King of the Jews with gifts and honor go unnamed in the Bible, though outside the Bible they are often given traditional names. The Samaritan woman at the well believed that Jesus was the Messiah and spread the news. The blind man who begged for healing acknowledged Jesus as “Son of David,” and trusted that David’s heir would grant him a miracle. Just this week we heard readings of another two unnamed faithful: the woman who gave food to Elijah even though she only had enough for one meal, and the woman who gave all of her money to the treasury. Both, poor widows, put their trust in God above their own needs. Their stories are told to instruct us, but we do not know their names.
The fact is that we do not know the names of most of the saints. We do not know the names of most of those on earth who live extraordinary faith and virtue on the direct path to heaven, either. We do not even know their number, but we know that they are all around us. The man in front of us in line may be caring for strangers at a nursing home. The woman we walk past in a parking lot may be doing without so that her children can eat. The child who delivers the newspaper on his bike may be praying for the bully who taunts him at school. We don’t know which people they are, and we generally don’t have any way of seeing quiet holiness, but we know that there are saints among us. They may even be people we judge or dislike.
What does all of this mean to us, the Church Militant? Sainthood is not out of reach. It is not such a high-hanging fruit that there’s no point reaching for it. If the suffering can give thanks, and the burdened can hold on to hope, we can also look for ways to trust, hope, and love generously. Heaven is not just for the famous, for Mother Theresa and Pope John Paul II. it is also overflowing with extraordinary, ordinary people. People who had lives like our own, but were not content just to serve their own needs. If they can be saints, so can we. If we long for heaven, we should not aim for purgatory.