November is a time that reminds
us of the mystery of human mortality and eternal life. Imagine the beginning of
winter in Europe thousands of years before; no electricity, no cities … long
nights and cold. The lifeless world itself was a natural metaphor for human
frailty and mortality. There were also many beliefs around the growing darkness
and the wandering spirits; even about the dead coming to visit their family members.
In many Christian traditions this is a season of filial
love, intercession, and hope. Thus, the cold of winter is answered by the
warmth of communion in love, bringing all of us together in one Body of
Christ. The celebration of all saints or all souls is not merely a day
dedicated for them, it is about a celebration of life together. In the
Incarnation and Resurrection, Christ bound humanity to Himself. Paul’s image of
the mystical body (1 Corinthians 12) applies across the threshold of
death: if one member suffers, all suffer; if one is honored, all rejoice.
Those whom we call
saints lived a life in grace and entered into God’s glory. Many of us, whether living
or deceased, are in a purgation process in the fire of God’s love. All of us together
are walking in this common pilgrimage, making the communion of saints a dynamic
reality. The saints are not distant superheroes of the faith; they are our
elder brothers and sisters who help us. Our departed relatives and the
unremembered deceased are not lost to the void in some far away place; they
remain connected to us in prayer.
To ignore the saints implies that Christ’s victory over sin
was merely theoretical. The saints lived christ’s life in their time, and
showed that divine grace genuinely transforms real human flesh, history, and
culture. Here, we need to keep in mind that a faith that gazes only toward the
sky risks becoming blind to the earth. It may even risk the sanctity of our
human living. Pope Leo XIV observed that the history of the world, without the
saints, would be immeasurably poorer and less human. Without the saints, history
may lean heavily toward secular cycles of political power, war, and corruption.
The saints reveal an alternate history; love and sacrifice, solidarity and
justice, compassion and kindness. History was not a history only of the rulers
and the powerful, but of those who had a vulnerable heart. Christ made Himself
vulnerable by taking on human flesh, suffering, and dying. Christ’s heart was
open, exposed to rejection, grief, and physical pain out of love. Because the
saints are those who conform themselves to the likeness of Christ (Imitatio
Christi), their holiness requires opening their hearts to love and suffer
alongside others, rather than building walls of self-protection, domination, or
indifference. The Communion of Saints cannot remain as a distant reality in the
far future. If we are genuinely united with the saints in heaven and the souls,
that same communion must encourage us to live in deep unity, reconciliation,
and peace with all those walking beside us today irrespective of religion or
nationality.
We can of course find individual sanctity of the saints. But
to project them as isolated holiness-icons prevents the communion of saints
from being lived in reality. It may be applied also to our own search for
holiness as an individual or as a preferred select community. We cannot nurture
sanctity while maintaining strict boundaries and suspicion of other 'evil' or
'sinful' people. From the life of the saints, we can see that the prophetic signs
of communion were real at the margins. There, holiness was not a comfort within
the walls of worship places. Holiness was challenging but brought to a lived
reality in the margins. Holiness always unfolds within real human context.
A contemplation on the reality of the Communion of saints
may call us deeper into being in the body of Christ. St. John Chrysostom reminds
us that to honor Christ’s body on the altar while despising His body in the
poor is a contradiction. Spiritual communion separated from physical and social
reality is incomplete. The communion does not happen in a mystical world, how
can the communion be a reality when the vulnerable fall short of the joy of a
true communion. It feels the strain of what is lacking economically, and in social
justice. So, the Communion of Saints carries an inescapable dimension of social
justice.
The Communion of Saints manifests the
"blessedness" of the kingdom of god when the Church actively stands
with the poor, feeds the hungry, weeps with the grieving, and defends the
persecuted. The Beatitudes are not passive promises meant only for the
afterlife; they are the present reality of God’s Kingdom breaking into human
history. The joy of the Kingdom is not an escape from reality, but a
transforming power that turns injustice into a space for divine mercy and
liberation. To nourish one another in Christ means ensuring that no member of
the body lacks daily bread, human dignity, or fundamental rights. It challenges
economic systems that hoard resources for a few while leaving others to starve.
In the present global context, millions of people live on
the margins—treated as disposable, faceless, and voiceless. Many around
us—perhaps even ourselves at times—experience the crushing reality of becoming
invisible victims of injustice and rejection. The Communion of Saints stands as
a direct divine counter-narrative to this global indifference. In Christ’s
Body, there cannot be any throwaway people, no outsiders, no gentiles, no enemy.
The weakest, most broken member is not a burden to be discarded, but a vital
part of the body that demands the greatest honour and care. Being in this
communion naturally moves us to extend ourselves to all who are labouring,
struggling, and heavily laden.
To profess belief in the Communion of Saints is to commit to
building peace in our families, parishes, and communities. The mutual
nourishment of the Mystical Body takes place here and now, when we forgive one
another, bear each other's burdens, and share our daily gifts. It is a time to
be messengers of peace. We can’t afford to fight among ourselves, or promote
war. We can’t afford to spread hatred and separate others in suspicion. It is a
time to be together as humans and as children of the earth to care for one
another in times of climate crises and disasters which we cannot avoid.
When this sacred time is reduced to our devotional prayers
to the saints, and obligatory ritualistic prayers for the dead, we miss the
grace of what we celebrate. This is a time to celebrate life and grace, to be
prepared for the realisation of Christ in us as he reveals as the universal
king.
As we pray for the dead throughout November, let us cast
away all fear and superstition. We do not offer prayers out of anxiety, but out
of filial love and gratitude. The Communion of Saints reminds us of our true direction
as a pilgrim people bound together by grace. As we remember those who have
finished their course, we honor them, not merely with candles and rituals, but
by living as active instruments of Christ’s unity, justice, and peace on earth,
holding the most vulnerable close, until all are gathered into the eternal
feast of the Kingdom.