Finding Hope in a Covid World

Homily for All Souls Day

November 2, 2020

When I met with the Confirmation class for their rehearsal, I pointed out to them that, in Hebrew, the same word is used for both breath and spirit (Confirmation being associated with the Holy Spirit). I shared with them the ancient account of the creation of the human person, an account we find at the beginning of the Bible. The story is based on very ancient, common-sense observation: when a person is breathing, there is life; when there is no more breathing, the person is dead. And so the story reminds us that for us human beings there is an earthly part, sharing in the limitations of the earth (represented by the human “form” made from the clay of the ground). But there is also a divine aspect to our being, indicated by the fact that God breathes into the human form, and that is the divine action that brings life. God breathes life into us, we are created by God’s Spirit/Breath. What this means, I told those about to be confirmed, is that God wants to be, and in fact is, as close to us, as every breath we take.

During this horrible year of the pandemic, we’ve had a lot to deal with, a lot to process; and so, many of us feel overwhelmed and emotionally exhausted.  In addition to Covid-19, on May 25 th of this year George Floyd had the knee of a police officer on his neck for eight minutes and forty-six seconds. A video that went viral brought about massive protests and demonstrations. This incident in Minneapolis brought back memories of another incident, on July 17, 2014, when in New York City Eric Garner was put in a chokehold, bringing him to repeatedly say, “I can’t breathe.” The life breath left Eric Garner and George Floyd, and they were no more.

One of the frightening aspects of the Covid-19 pandemic is that in serious cases those affected cannot breathe, and many are forced to be put on ventilators. In addition, because of the highly contagious nature of the disease, those taken to hospitals face incredible loneliness, many dying without their family at their side.

Those who have studied crucifixion, the method used by the Romans to execute Jesus, make the point that, ultimately, when a person becomes too weak to hold themselves up, the weight of the body causes suffocation, much like a chokehold, a knee on the neck, or the coronavirus pandemic.

In the story of Jesus’ crucifixion in the gospel of John, we read that Jesus “bowed his head and delivered over his spirit” (John 19:30). Here we find the double meaning of the ancient Hebrew word: in dying Jesus took his last breath , and gave the Holy Spirit. In that divine breath, that gift of the Holy Spirit, God is as close to us as every breath we take!

On this All Souls Day, when we commemorate and pray for our loved ones, the faithful departed, we do so in this unique year of the pandemic—a sickness that has affected people of every age, of every nation, and of all faiths. At the same time, it has revealed the disparities that exist in our society—disparities of race, of wealth, of social status. But as we do each year, we gather to pray, to be there for those who have lost loved ones, and to have our faith and hope rekindled.

We remember that on the cross Jesus could not breathe. We remember that except for a very courageous few, he was practically alone, for many who loved him either could not or would not be with him. We remember that he was a victim of injustice—the injustice of race, and culture, and social status.

And so, on this All Souls Day, we place all those who could not breathe into the loving embrace of the One who handed over his Spirit and loved us all to his very last breath. On this All Souls Day, we place those who died without family or friends into the loving arms of the One who knew what it felt like to be apart from those for whom he gave so much. On this unique All Souls Day we place all our beloved dead into the arms of the One whose life breath is eternal, whose Spirit brings life out of death, and whose embrace welcomes our departed loved ones into his heavenly kingdom. And we pray, “Dear Jesus, may they know the joy of seeing your face, and the warmth of your loving embrace, now and forever.”

 

You might also like

Father's Homilies

Homily for the First Sunday of Advent November 30, 2025

By Charlene Currie • December 4, 2025
How Far Do You Want to Go?

Homily for the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe November 23, 2025

By Charlene Currie • November 28, 2025
Prairie Chickens and Eagles Homily for the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe November 23, 2025 An American Indian tells about a brave who found an eagle’s egg and put it into the nest of a prairie chicken. The eaglet hatched with the brood of chicks and grew up with them. All its life the changeling eagle, thinking it was a prairie chicken, did what the other prairie chickens did. It scratched in the dirt for seeds and insects to eat. It clucked and cackled. And it flew in a brief thrashing of wings and flurry of feathers no more than a few feet off the ground. After all, that’s how prairie chickens were supposed to fly. Years passed, and the changeling grew very old. One day it saw a magnificent bird soaring far above in the cloudless sky. Hanging with graceful majesty on the powerful wind currents, it soared with scarcely a beat of its strong golden wings. “What a beautiful bird!” said the changeling eagle to its neighbor. “What is it?” “That’s an eagle—the chief of the birds,” the neighbor clucked. “But don’t give it a second thought. You could never be like him.” So, the changeling eagle never gave it another thought. And it died thinking it was a prairie chicken. Today, we are celebrating the fact that Jesus Christ is the King of all God’s creation. And yet, it is strange that the gospel passage chosen for this feast is the scene of Jesus’ crucifixion. Notice how weak he is. Consider how he is laughed at and made fun of. “He saved others, let him save himself if he is the chosen one, the Christ of God….If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself.” So, the problem is one of expectations. The bystanders were looking for an eagle, and all they saw before them was a prairie chicken! And yet, at the end of the gospel, this prairie chicken seems to have some power that prairie chickens don’t normally have. When Jesus is asked by the thief being crucified with him, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom,” Jesus replies, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” Hardly a promise that could be made by a prairie chicken! What’s going on here? I’d like to refer us to a passage we find in the writings of St. Paul, a section of his letter to the Philippians that is the second reading on Palm Sunday, when we reflect on the crucifixion of Jesus. Here it is: “Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Jesus taught the way of humility and service. He came to raise others up, especially those who were bowed down by poverty or prejudice. He taught that there was no greater love than to lay down one’s life for the love of others. Greatness is found not in building oneself up at the expense of others, but in building up others, especially those who need it the most. So, Jesus emptied himself, to the point of looking like a prairie chicken, and in doing so he showed us the way to the eternal kingdom by means of humble service, that we might become who we truly are, eagles destined to soar beyond the clouds.

Homily for the Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time November 16, 2025

By Charlene Currie • November 28, 2025
Too Stubborn to Quit. Homily for the Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time November 16, 2025 The California coast was blanketed in fog July 4, 1952. Twenty-one miles to the west, on Catalina Island, Florence Chadwick, a 34-year-old-long-distance-swimmer, waded in to the water and began swimming toward the California coast. She had already conquered the English Channel, swimming in both directions. Now she was determined to be the first woman to swim the Catalina Channel. As the hours ticked off, Chadwick fought bone-chilling cold, dense fog, and sharks. Several times, sharks had to be driven off by rifles. Fatigue never set in, but the icy water numbed her to the point of exhaustion. Straining to make out the shore through her swimmer’s goggles, she could see only a dense fog. She knew she could not go any farther. Although not a quitter, Chadwick shouted to her trainer and her mother in the boat and asked to be taken out of the water. They urged her not to give up, but when she looked toward the California coast, all she could see was thick fog. So after fifteen hours and fifty-five minutes of fighting the elements, she was hauled from the channel into the boat. Frozen to the bone and her spirit defeated, Chadwick was devastated when she discovered she was only a half-mile from the coast! She felt the shock of failure…. Two months later, Chadwick swam that same channel, and again fog clouded her vision, but this time she swam with her faith intact—that somewhere behind that fog was land. This time she succeeded. Not only was she the first woman to swim the Catalina Channel, but she beat the men’s record by two hours. A line from this story that struck me was: “this time she swam with her faith intact.” Florence Chadwick was able to persevere to her goal because she believed she could do it. In today’s gospel passage, Jesus speaks about the challenges and threats that will be faced by the first disciples when they go out into the world and start proclaiming the message. He doesn’t mince words or paint a rosy picture. Tough times of suffering will come. But then he adds, “By your perseverance you will secure your lives.” In reflecting on this teaching, I was reminded of another Bible story. The disciples are in a boat crossing a lake. Jesus had stayed behind to spend some time in prayer. Then, late at night, he comes toward them, walking on the water. The disciples are frightened, thinking they’re seeing a ghost. Jesus tries to reassure them, when Simon Peter yells, “Lord, if it is really you, command that I walk on the water toward you.” Jesus invites him to do so, and Peter steps out of the boat and actually walks on the water toward Jesus. But then, he looks down and notices the threatening situation he is in. And he begins to sink. Jesus has to fish him out of the water and get him back into the boat (Cf. Matthew 14:22-33). What makes the difference? As long as Peter keeps his eyes on Jesus, he can do the seemingly impossible. When he focuses on the threat, he sinks. We find something similar in the writings of St. Paul. In his first letter to the Corinthians, he writes, “You know that while all the runners in the stadium take part in the race, the award goes to one man. In that case, run so as to win! Athletes deny themselves all sorts of things. They do this to win a crown of leaves that withers, but we a crown that is imperishable. I do not run like a man who loses sight of the finish line…” (1 Cor 9:24-26). So, when we have to face difficulties, when we live in hard times, when we feel left out or let down, how are we supposed to keep going? Florence Chadwick failed when she couldn’t see the finish line. When she found faith withing herself again, she was able to go back and reach her goal. Peter was even able to walk on water, but only as long as he kept his eyes on Jesus. And Paul writes that he has been able to keep going, even while facing all sorts of hardships, because he has never lost sight of the goal. When facing challenges, a stubborn faith is required; perseverance is needed. It’s very easy to give up, to call it quits, to feel that there’s no way to face all the problems that pile up. We don’t have to face life’s challenges alone. Jesus is with us. And he asks us to be there for each other. He asks us to persevere, to have faith, to be too stubborn to quit.