Jane E Sullivan
In the Western Christian calendar tomorrow – 2 November – is All Souls’ Day. It is the day the church remembers the souls of the faithful departed.
All Souls’ Day follows All Saints’ Day, and before it the preparatory All Hallows’ Eve on 31 October. It concludes a time of commemoration and thanksgiving.
“Saints” in early Christian tradition was a general and inclusive term for all members of the faith community. Over time customary usage came to refer to a rarefied group of exceptional individuals, officially recognised by the church. In the name of Christ, for the sake of the faith these believers risked and often lost limb or life, completed miraculous feats or led exemplary lives.
Even though many saints had significant character flaws and histories of questionable behaviours, such as Saint Paul and Saint Augustine, most of us won’t make it into this venerated company. We are, however, destined to become souls. And there’s something democratic about the church making space to honour all her dead.
Whether they were churched or unchurched, sincerely remembering our dead loved ones can be complicated. Not only because it prompts thoughts of our mortality but because true remembrance means recognising the whole person. After all, the dead are human. And humans are complex.
People come with sparkling brilliance as well as glaring blemishes. Death doesn’t automatically transform someone into a saint. Death doesn’t erase character faults or bad actions. But critiquing our dead loved ones feels disloyal, unfair and uncomfortable. Indeed, there are strong social conventions not to speak ill of the dead. They have no right of reply.
A genuine remembrance, however, involves integrating a person’s contradictions into our memory. It means putting their foibles and failures, their struggles and vulnerabilities, alongside their virtues, their triumphs, and what made them lovable. After all in life we accommodated the whole person into our hearts. It’s striking that often for mourners the most beneficial eulogies portray the real person.
As we remember our dead, inevitably our relationship with them comes into focus. Our own merits and shortcomings are seen, revealed in the context and history of the relationship. That’s fair enough, honest recollection cuts both ways. Our minds may race back to the moments when our character flaws got in the way, or when we failed them in some big or little matter. Past hurts can outlive their perpetrator. Relationship tensions may remain unresolved, and words left unspoken.
Regret, shame and plain old sadness may form parts of our memory. Living with such feelings is difficult. Reality is like that. Hopefully, the unsettling parts in our relationships with the dead are held together with feelings of happiness, gratitude, and contentment.
As we commemorate All Souls’ Day, let’s truly remember our loved ones. Who knows, perhaps on a future All Souls’ Day, someone will remember us, the exquisitely human us.
Jane E Sullivan lives and worships in Melbourne.
