Sunday, November 2 @ 10:00 AM
St. Augustine Cathedral

So, my dear friends, when my sister and I became teenagers, we were given our own duties as part of my mother’s annual cleaning of the house, which would occur in the weeks before Thanksgiving. To be prepared for Thanksgiving to Epiphany, my mother spent three weeks cleaning the house in addition to what she did all year. When I turned thirteen, I was given the task of washing the windows.

There has been no greater penance devised by mankind than washing windows in my mother’s house, because she was a perfectionist. She would wait for the light to come through, and she would stand there and make sure that every pane was perfectly clean. If not, you had to do it again and again, regardless of how many rolls of paper towels it took. She wanted them perfectly clean.

I often wonder to myself whether my mother realized what a great theologian she was—helping us to understand what we celebrate today. For you and I gather on this, the commemoration of all the faithful departed. We pray for our mothers and fathers, our brothers and sisters, our relatives, coworkers, and friends—those known to us and those unknown—who have entered into the mystery of death.

We pray for them so that they may one day inherit the glory of eternal life in Heaven. And so, that image of cleaning glass is exactly what we are about here today. Only, my friends, imagine not a piece of glass, but the soul that you and I have been given—a soul that reflects God’s life and glory.

For when you and I stand in judgment before the Lord, we are naked before Him who is the fullness of light. Like when I was a teenager standing in front of the window, there was no place to hide, for any spot or smudge or fingerprint was there—it could not be hidden. And so too, in judgment, we stand naked before the light of Christ, and He illumines; He makes transparent who we really are, what we have really done, the very intentions and motives of our hearts. There is nowhere to hide, for the Light makes all things clear.

And because God loves us so much—as we heard in that second reading—that hope does not disappoint. God wants all of us to come to glory in His great love. He allows us, even after death, to attend to what we did not attend to in life.

He allows us, through the prayers of those left behind—that is, your prayers and mine for those who went before us—to open the hearts of those who have died, so that they may receive the fullness of grace. For the fault, if there is one, is not in God’s love, but in our readiness. God wishes to give them the fullness of His life, wishes to wash them clean, and they must go through the process of being cleansed—not as a punishment, but as a gift—so that the Father of all love can welcome them, and one day you and me, into the fullness of light and love.

That is how much God loves us: He will not give up on us. So why do we pray for the dead? We pray for the dead because our prayers join with them so that they might go through this process, to be fully cleansed, to run into the glory of Heaven. And as we pray for them, we also pray for one another.

But today, my friends, we come here for what I call our holiday of hope. For may I ask you—who here is without sin? Who here does not regret the things you and I have done in our lives that we cannot undo? Who in this church can undo the damage our words or decisions have caused?

How many of us have regrets in our lives, moments when we can say, “If only I had a second chance, I would have done this or that differently. I would have forgiven him before it was too late.” The list goes on and on. Left only to ourselves, the window of the soul can have much that needs to be cleaned.

We spend our life on earth trying to reflect the light of Christ. But, my friends, if there is still work to be done when we die, God will help us the rest of the way. God will not abandon us. God, in His love and mercy, will help us to accept the fullness of His life so that we might become as clean as the windows my mother demanded—windows of a soul that will last forever.

In a few moments after Mass is over, I am going to invite you to join me outside. For today, I will bless the cremation garden that was built here. And in that garden, my friends, when it is full, there will be six hundred people who will be buried here in our mother church. They will be prayed for here in this church by you and me, as we pray for all the dead wherever they may be buried.

Eternal rest grant unto the faithful departed, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. May their souls, and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

As we pray for them, let us ask Almighty God to grant them the fullness of the promise of their baptism, to cleanse them completely, and to bring them to glory. Let us pray that you and I, when we go before the judgment of Christ, might one day receive that same great gift.