Readings and Virtual Homily for November 1, 2026, All Saints Day; Sad About My Sophomores
Readings for Mass this Sunday:
Revelation 7:2-4, 9-14
Psalm 24:1-6
1 John 3:1-3
Matthew 5:1-12
Dear Friends and Family,
All Saints Day is one of those few feasts during the year that overrides the regular Sunday Mass, when it falls on a Sunday. Instead of the readings and prayers for the Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time this weekend, we have the readings and the prayers for the feast.
Those readings start with one of my favorite scenes from the Book of Revelation -- in fact, one of my favorite scenes from all Scripture. John tells us that he is given a vision of a vast number of saints -- "beyond all counting" (vs. 9) -- who have come through the period of great distress, washed their white robes in the blood of the Lamb and who now stand before the throne praising and giving glory to God (vs. 14). This great multitude, John tells us, is comprised of men and women of "every nation, race, people and tongue" (vs. 9).
This scene speaks to a global conversion at the end of time; it speaks to the triumph of the faith in the hour of its greatest test and trial -- "the period of great distress" (vs. 14) -- which is associated with the reign of the Anti-Christ. The mystical tradition of the Church holds that the greatest saints of all time will be those who live at the end of the world; this vision from Revelation assures us that their number will be beyond all counting. It is a joyful and triumphant image, befitting the feast we celebrate today.
Psalm 24 emphasizes the saintly qualities of those who would ascend "the mountain of the Lord," who would "stand in his holy place" (vs. 3). It reminds us that sainthood is a choice; our cooperation with grace brings it about.
The passage from John reminds us that we are God's children now but that "what we shall be has not yet been revealed" (vs. 2). John goes on to say that "when it is revealed, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is" (vs. 2). This insight gives us a tantalizing clue as to the reality of sainthood. The Eastern Orthodox refer to this "being like him" as divinization; that is, the human race will come to share in the very nature of God. This union with the divine is affected by, of course, the God-Man, who in taking on our human nature, invites us to share in his divine nature.
Matthew's account of the Beatitudes might be said to offer a blueprint for sainthood in this life. Distinctly counter-intuitive, they upend conventional wisdom about what constitutes blessedness; about what a blessing is. When teaching the Beatitudes to my sophomores at O'Dowd, I like to ask the kids to contrast this list of blessings with those that might be devised by Wall Street, by Madison Avenue, by Hollywood, Silicon Valley or Sacramento or DC -- blessed are the rich, the powerful, the risk-takers, the talented, the selfish, the unscrupulous and so forth. It brings out in sharp relief the countercultural nature of Gospel values.
Just as any reflection on the lives of the saints underscores the fact that, invariably, saints swim against the stream. They are in the world but not of it. They attend to the necessities of day-in and day-out living while at the same time holding themselves responsive to a higher set of values, to a wisdom that is not of this world.
I want to conclude by observing that, as today's psalm reminds us, sainthood is a choice. It may be chosen at any point in life and along any path, in any set of circumstances. The saints weren't born saints. They worked at it. They often fell, often failed, but they were never defeated. They kept getting back up, kept focused on their ultimate goal. It is something any of us might achieve from where we are right now in life -- it is only a matter of an ever-deeper cooperation with grace.
Needless to say I will be missing our huge All Saints/All Souls Day Mass at the high school on Monday. (And of course, missing all our All Saints/All Souls Masses here in the parish as well.) I love celebrating Mass on these two days, and have always associated All Saints Day at the high school with the beginning of the end of the fall semester. I discovered my first autumn at O'Dowd -- 2015 -- that from All Saints Day on, the semester just shoots forward, you find yourself at finals week in what seems to be the blink of an eye.
Which only underscores to me how much I am missing my sophomores, this semester. It has been five weeks now and it is certainly going to be four more -- to Thanksgiving -- before I can hope to be back on campus. And at that, a post-Thanksgiving return to campus is not guaranteed. It just depends on how the recovery goes, between now and then. Frankly, I'd rate it 50/50.
I was telling colleagues at O'Dowd how much I loved my students, this semester, back in August and September. I always love my students but this fall, there really was something special, something special across all three of my sections -- I just so much looked forward to seeing them each class. It was a connection I felt the very first week, and with each section. I just loved teaching them, being with them.
I think I have made it clear in the past few weeks that I am not feeling particularly burdened by my situation this fall; that I see this business as a God-appointed opportunity. For all that that is true, there is one huge drawback for me, in these circumstances: Not being with my fall semester sophomores. I miss them. Big time.
They miss me, too. I have a lot of e-mails from them, attesting to the fact.
So while on the whole I really am okay with this bizarre turn of events, this almost freakish injury, and the subsequent quiet time, there is one place of real sadness in it for me -- the lost time, weeks and weeks, with my beloved sophomores.
I know, I know, they will be there when I return. For two and one half years, when I return (this is the Class of 2029). And I know, too, I can offer all of this up, specifically for them, win grace for them, love them in that sort of virtual/spiritual way and maybe, in fact, have a much deeper ultimate impact on them than would be the case were I with them in the classroom this autumn, day-in and day-out.
I know all that. I still miss my sophomores. Big, huge, time; big, huge sadness.
Other than that, I am good. And my knees are better -- week to week. Keep them in prayer!
Happy All Saints Day.
Love,
El Padre