Grieving With Hope

November 8, 2023

Fr. John Riccardo

“We do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose, so too will God, through Jesus, bring with him those who have fallen asleep. Indeed, we tell you this, on the word of the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will surely not precede those who have fallen asleep.”

“For the Lord himself, with a word of command, with the voice of an archangel and with the trumpet of God, will come down from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Thus we shall always be with the Lord.”

“Therefore, console one another with these words.”

(1 Thessalonians 4:13-18)

November in the Church is a special time set aside to pray for our beloved dead. Though we start the month with the great Solemnity of All Saints, we then immediately follow it up with All Souls, visits to cemeteries, and numerous other occasions to trustingly present to God all those we can no longer see, hear and hold. 

When I was a younger priest I used to think I knew a lot more than I do now. As I’ve gotten older, I am less and less sure about many things. There is one thing, though, that I know for certain. God hates death. It isn’t supposed to be here. It was never in His plan. Death entered the world, Scripture tells us, “through the envy of the devil” (Wisdom 2:24). In his Letter to the Romans, Paul speaks of death not simply as an event that will happen to us, but as a power, a government, an authority, against which we have no chance of winning (cf. Rom 5:12-21). That’s why it’s more appropriate to write it out with a capital letter – Death. 

To wage war against Death, that is, against the power of Death, is one of the reasons why the second Person of the Trinity became man. Jesus’ passion, death and resurrection has done just that: defeated Death. Past tense. Now, to be sure, the power of Death hasn’t yet been destroyed, that’s why it will still happen to all of us. But for the disciple, there is no longer any need to be held bound by the fear of it (cf. Heb 2:14), for it cannot hold us. It has lost its sting (cf. 1 Cor 15:55). One day – one real, glorious, extraordinary day – Death will be destroyed (cf. Is 25:8; Rev 20:14; 21:4).  

It is because of all of this that Paul exhorts the Christians in Thessalonica as he does in our reading. He wants to make sure they are not “unaware”, or “left in the dark”, or “ignorant” about one of the most practical differences Jesus’ resurrection from the dead makes in the lives of believers. He goes on to make a point that is worth stressing: Paul does not tell them, or us, not to grieve. That would be, quite frankly, inhuman. Instead, he tells them not to grieve like those who have no hope. 

In the span of two months I lost my father and my brother. Not long after that, my mom also passed away. At this point in my life, many of my friends are no longer walking this earth. I miss them all intensely. Sometimes, seemingly out of nowhere – a song on the radio, a scent in the air, a photograph, a memory that comes flooding to my mind – I just start to cry as I think about them. But even as I cry, I cry with absolute, unshakable, utmost hope that I will see them again, for they are not gone. It’s not as if they’ve ceased to exist. They are with the Lord, either home already or on their way. And even now there’s a thin veil between us and them. As one of the Prefaces at Mass for the saints reads, “By communion with them you give us companionship.” And, one day, when Jesus returns and all things are made new, we will all be together again in that new heaven and new earth where there is no sickness, no pain, no sorrow, and no death (cf. Rev 21:4).

Some years back, a dear friend of mine lost his son in a tragic accident. I remember talking with him some months afterwards. His pain was still so raw, and he was angry – angry with God. At one point in the conversation I remember him saying to me, “John, I want answers!” After just sitting there with him for a while, for there really are no words to say, I looked at him and gently said, “Would that really help? I don’t want answers for those I have suddenly lost. All that would do is satisfy some curiosity on my part. No, I want – I need! – someone to do something about it. I need someone to do something about Death.”

And that’s exactly what Jesus has done. That’s why we can cry with great hope.  

“Therefore, console one another with these words.”