Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read John 6:37–40
I keep photographs of my grandparents close by in my home office. They are my guiding stars. Each of them, in their own way, shared their faith with me and led me to this very moment.
When I reflect on the deposit of faith their examples left me, I’m filled with immense gratitude—and, yes, a twinge of sadness that they are no longer here to talk to. I can’t share a beer and pretzels with Gramps while we watch a ballgame, or sing Irish songs with Pop-Pop as we chase squirrels from his tomato plants with super soakers (no squirrels were harmed in the process). I can’t sit on the porch with Grandmom, watering her plants and listening to her talk about our Blessed Mother, or watch reruns of Mother Angelica with Mamsey.
Oh, how I would love to share my faith story with them today. I would thank them for their quiet, sustaining prayers—those unseen petitions that, I am certain, have shielded and protected me through so many seasons of life. And I would give anything for one more really long hug. They each gave the best hugs—the kind that made me feel safe, seen, and unconditionally loved—and usually ended with giving me some peppermints or butterscotch candies.
This Sunday, we as a Church celebrate All Souls Day, when we remember all who have gone before us in faith and entrust them anew to the mercy of God.
It has only been as I’ve grown older that I’ve come to cherish this feast deeply. As a child, All Souls Day often passed unnoticed due to its poor placement on our secular calendar. Attending Catholic school, we eagerly anticipated All Saints Day—not to venerate the saints, but because it meant a day off after Halloween. All Souls Day, however, found us back in school, restless from our sugar hangovers.
But is it really poor placement?
I rather think it’s the perfect placement—thank you, holy Mother Church!
Approaching the close of the liturgical year, mere weeks before Advent begins, this celebration comes as the days grow shorter, the nights longer, the air cooler, and winter is upon us. While nature might be reminding us that life fades and passes, that we are dust and to dust we shall return, the wisdom of this feast invites us to memento mori, to “remember our death.” Not to do so in fear, but rather with renewed hope.
It is in this Sunday’s gospel that Jesus’ words give us a hope beyond winter, shifting our focus toward the spring of our reawakening. “This is the will of the one who sent me, that I should not lose anything of what he gave me, but that I should raise it on the last day” (John 6:39).
As Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen writes of this passage, “Could there be a more consoling reassurance?”[1] God the Father is unwilling to lose even one of His children to the power of sin and death. His love pursues us beyond the grave. So intense is His desire for eternal communion with us that Jesus promises resurrection and unity for all who believe.
“If you know the eternal Love who created you,” Saint John Paul II reminded the faithful at Fatima, “you also know that there is an immortal soul within you … Your whole life extends infinitely beyond its earthly limits: heaven awaits you.”[2]
All Souls Day, then, is not a somber day of loss, but a day of belonging. It is a day that rekindles our zeal to live intentionally, to intercede for those undergoing their final purification, and to remember that death does not sever our communion in Christ. The veil between heaven and earth is thin, and love passes through it easily.
While the souls in purgatory await their experience of the fullness of God’s glory, they rely on our prayers. As Father Michael Sparrow, SJ, beautifully explains, the pain of purgatory can be likened to holding a block of ice that, as it melts, feels like burning to our skin. Our remaining attachments—resentments, pride, judgments, and sins—melt away under the warmth of divine love. But that process of melting is not without discomfort and pain.[3] The Book of Wisdom describes it as “gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself” (Wisdom 3:6).
When that purification is complete, though, how those souls will “shine and dart about as sparks through stubble” (Wisdom 3:7). What a joyful image—souls radiant and free, dancing like sparks in the light of God’s glory! I can picture my grandparents there: laughing, shining, fully alive in Him. As they all sing their favorite Irish ditties, I’m sure.
So as we celebrate this All Souls Day, may we accept the Church’s invitation to:
First, remember our death: not with dread, but with holy awareness that our time is precious and eternity is real. Let the thought of heaven shape the way you live, love, and forgive today.
And second, pray fervently for the dead: for those we love and for those who have no one to pray for them. Our prayers, as one body in Christ, can speed their journey home to God, and one day, they will do the same for us.
May our remembrance of death not darken our hearts but awaken them; so that our zeal for holiness burns brighter, our hope in the resurrection grows deeper, and our communion with the saints and the faithful departed grows stronger with every prayer we offer.
In prayer with you,
Jeannine
Food for thought or journaling …
Perhaps as you read this, someone dear to you has come to mind, someone whose presence you still feel even though they are no longer on this side of eternity. What was it that you miss most about this person? What feelings arise as memories return? How has their life shaped yours and your faith?
May we not forget those souls who have no one on this side of the veil to pray for them.
Let us pray, the prayer of St. Gertrude for all of the souls in purgatory: Eternal Father, I offer Thee the Most Precious Blood of Thy Divine Son, Jesus, in union with the masses said throughout the world today, for all the holy souls in purgatory, for sinners everywhere, for sinners in the universal church, those in my own home and within my family. Amen.
[1] Father Gabriel of Saint Mary Magdalen, Divine Intimacy (Baronius Press, MMXXXII), 1134.
[2] John Paul II, “Greeting of the Holy Father John Paul II to the Sick at Fátima, 13 May 2000,” The Holy See, accessed October 21, 2025, https://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/speeches/2000/apr-jun/documents/hf_jp-ii_spe_20000513_sick-fatima.html.
[3] Father Michael Sparrow, SJ, “Blinded by God’s Love [John 6:37-40]” Heart to Heart Catholic Media Ministry, posted March 9, 2021, accessed October 20, 2025, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hc060QeKKI4.
