Of souls and saints

In the aftermath of Chicago Cardinal Joseph Bernardin’s 1996 death, several conservative Catholic commentators made the same observation. "The cardinal’s funeral liturgy," they remarked, "was constructed to give people the impression that he went straight to heaven. No one said anything about the possibility of his soul being in Purgatory."

The commentators probably were correct. But if they listen carefully to Sunday’s readings commemorating the Feast of All Souls, they’ll notice that all three sacred authors also presume "the just" are instantly "in the hand of God" when they die. They mention nothing about a purification process after death.

Our Wisdom author says exactly that. His goal is not only to contrast the glory the just are experiencing in Yahweh’s presence with the nonsense they had to endure while they were on earth, but also to confront the attitude some people have about them after they died (Wis 3:1-9).

With God

"They seemed, in the view of the foolish," he writes, "to be dead; their passing away was thought an affliction and their going forth from us utter destruction. But they are in peace." Though the unjust presumed they were being punished by God, actually "He took them to Himself."

Paul, defining the just as those "who were baptized in Christ Jesus," believes our "new Life" begins the instant we die with Jesus in Baptism (Rom 6: 3-9). In his letter to the Romans, he presumes there’s nothing in us to be purified after we physically die.

"For if we have grown into union with Him through a death like His, we shall also be united with Him in the resurrection....If we have died with Christ, we believe we shall also live with Him."

The Apostle believes the only suffering a Christian must endure is the suffering he or she experiences right here and now in imitating Jesus’ love of others.

John takes this concept one step further (Jn 11: 17-27). Scholars tell us to note carefully the dialogue between Martha and Jesus in the Gospel. They contend that Martha presents the "old" theology about death; Jesus, the "new and improved."

Martha agrees with Jesus’ comforting statement, "Your brother will rise." But she limits Lazarus’ resurrection to "the last day." In spite of Paul’s comments above, many early Christians believed their eternal life with the Lord would start only after He gloriously returned on "the last day." The faithful departed had to bide their time in some sort of suspended animation until that day when they’d finally be ushered into heaven.

Living on

Jesus tells us there’s no delay in the process. "I am the resurrection and the life," He proclaims. "Whoever believes in me, even if they die, will live; and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die." The only question we have to answer is, "Do you believe this?"

Scholars call this kind of theology "realized eschatology." The Greek word "eschaton" refers to the last things we humans will experience. John teaches that those last things are already here, realized through faith in our everyday lives. What we’re looking forward to achieving in the future, we already possess in the present. It’s difficult to fit our later belief in Purgatory into such a theology.

The Vatican II-inspired return to our scriptural roots has reshaped our celebration of the Feast of All Souls. It’s removed much of our old emphasis on getting souls out of Purgatory. (Remember when all priests were expected to "say" three Masses for the Poor Souls?) It’s helped us create liturgies in which we fondly remember those who have gone before us in the faith.

If the process continues in the same direction, we’ll eventually have to ask, "When will today’s celebration of All Souls be merged with yesterday’s celebration of All Saints?"