November can bring people very close to our hearts. We remember a husband or wife, a parent, a child, a friend. Some have been gone for many years. For others, the loss is still very fresh. We may find ourselves thinking, “I wish I could speak to you once more.”
Our faith does not ask us to stop
missing them. It invites us to bring that love, and that sorrow, to God. When
we pray for those who have died, we are saying, “Lord, these people are
precious to us. We entrust them to your mercy.”
That is part of what we mean by
the communion of saints. We belong to one another in Christ. Death changes the
way we experience that belonging, but it does not put our loved ones beyond the
reach of God’s love. And as we pray for them, God gently opens our own hearts
too.
I sometimes think about purgatory
in that light. This is only an image, but I imagine it as coming into the
fullness of God’s love and seeing, perhaps for the first time, all the
opportunities we missed to love. The kindness we held back. The forgiveness we
put off. The person we were too busy to notice.
That could be painful. But
purgatory is not about God ceasing to love us. It is about his love purifying
us. We do not have to build a bridge to God by ourselves. In Jesus, God has
already come to meet us. His mercy reaches into the places we cannot heal on
our own.
And that brings us to today’s
Gospel. Jesus tells us about the young women waiting for the bridegroom. Some
have brought oil for their lamps; others have not. When the bridegroom arrives,
the difference matters.
It can sound like a warning
designed to make us anxious. But perhaps we can hear it as a loving invitation:
do not keep putting off the life God is offering you. Make room for God now.
Notice that all of them become
drowsy and fall asleep. Even the wise ones. Being ready does not mean that we
never get tired, never struggle or never have a bad day. It means tending our
relationship with God, even in the ordinary ups and downs of life.
We might think of that oil as the
life of faith we allow God to nurture in us: prayer, love, forgiveness, a
willingness to listen to his Spirit. We help one another along the way, but
nobody else can say our “yes” to God for us.
And this need not be complicated.
It may be a quiet prayer before the day begins. A phone call to someone who is
lonely. An apology we have been avoiding. A little more patience at home. We do
not have to change the whole world today. We can begin in our own square metre.
The reading from Wisdom gives us
a beautiful encouragement. We are invited to seek wisdom, but we are not
searching for a God who is reluctant to be found. God is already reaching
towards us.
So staying awake means learning
to notice him. In the Scriptures. In the person beside us. In that quiet
prompting to do what is loving rather than what is easiest. This is not an
escape from life. It is a way of being more fully present to it.
Then St Paul brings us back to
the people we are remembering this month. He reminds us that Jesus died and
rose again, and that those who have died in Jesus are held in that same hope.
That does not take away our
grief. Christians cry too. We feel the empty chair and the absence of a
familiar voice. But we can grieve with hope, trusting that death does not have
the last word. The risen Christ does.
And we are asked to encourage one
another with that hope. Some days our faith feels strong. Other days we may
feel as though we are running on fumes. On those days, we do not need a
lecture. We need someone to sit beside us, listen to us and help us pray. That
is part of being a community of faith.
So perhaps this week we could do
two simple things. Bring to God the name of someone who has died. And choose
one small act of love that we will not put off.
Our prayer for the dead and our
care for the living belong together. Both are ways of saying that love matters,
that we belong to one another, and that we trust the mercy of God.
Lord, receive those we love into
the fullness of your peace. Be close to all who are grieving. And help us, day
by day, to make room for you, so that when you come, we may welcome you with
hearts made ready by love. Amen.
