Post haec vidi turbam magnam…After this I saw a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and tribes, and peoples, and tongues, standing before the throne, and in sight of the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands (Apoc. 7:9).

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,
My very dear sons,

The spectacle that fills our eyes—the eyes of our soul—on this feast of All Saints, as we contemplate the countless throngs of Saints presented in the liturgical readings from the Apocalypse, resonates not only in the mind, but also in our heart of hearts. This blessed vision represents the consummation of all things at the end of human History, where we ardently expect our own salvation and that of those dear to us. If there is a deeper meaning to this thing we call “politics” (currently occupying many Americans) it can only be—or should only be—a path to such a blessed end, the supreme good for mankind—for each individual and for human society taken as a whole. In the inspired language of the Bible this happy consummation is simply called “the Kingdom of Heaven.”

Both before the coming of Christ and ever since, men have striven to create on earth a form of government and social organization that would assure a certain happiness already here below, as we await the final happiness of that Kingdom of God. The Greeks enriched the world with profound thought on the subject of this political dimension of life. The Romans put those ideas into practice in their vast Empire. The Christian world, finally, benefitting from the light of the Gospel and from the lessons of the Old Testament, learning as well from the doctrine of such giants as Saint Augustine and Saint Thomas Aquinas, employed immense efforts in giving birth, both to a Holy Roman Empire and to an impressive array of Catholic princedoms and kingdoms.

But how difficult this business of the political order has proved! Although there have been noteworthy exceptions, it seems that all too many political bodies in all too many places, even in Christian lands, have been cruelly inadequate when they were not outright tyrannies! Worse yet, for the past several centuries, especially since the French Revolution, the character of these great governments in Europe and America, has largely been one that rejects the wise and time-tested principles of the Christian political vision in favor of a vague exaltation of values like liberty and fraternity, excellent things in themselves, but open to manipulation by forces hostile to the Faith and to God’s natural law. As just about anyone can see we are now paying dearly for this kind of lowering of the standards! In America in particular we seem to be standing on the brink of a substantial breakdown of moral law and ethics—or perhaps the breakdown has already occurred.

Where do we turn? It is simply unchristian to wallow in self-pity or pagan sadness. The Apocalypse we are reading today was written in order to encourage the Christians of the Early Church during the first wave of persecutions. Later, the book entitled The City of God was crafted by Saint Augustine in a view of giving hope to the Church as the order of the Roman Empire began to give way to what has been called the Dark Ages. Hope is a small word with immense implications.

To begin with, since we always forget this essential point, we need to realize that we are not meant for perfect happiness in this imperfect world. Our present life, on this earth, in the Christian understanding of things—which is the most enlightened—is really only a rough draft and an imperfect attempt at the true Kingdom to which we aspire through our Faith and all we do. Salvation does not lie in the latest political “messiah” that may come along, even if he be a Charlemagne or a Saint Louis of France. God sometimes (but very rarely) sends a Saint Joan of Arc to help sort out a messy situation, but we are not to put all our hopes in any mere mortal. “Some trust in chariots,” says the psalmist, “and some in horses: but we will call upon the name of the Lord our God.” (Psalm 19:8, Douay-Reims.) And again, “Put not your trust in princes, in the children of men, in whom there is no salvation.” (Psalm 145: 2-3, Douay-Reims.) Our Lord summed it up as only the Son of God is able saying we must “render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and unto God what is God’s.” (Mt. 22:21.)

All the same, many or most of us, especially the young, want to work at some great plan to reform and restore the Christian order the best we can, while we await the Kingdom at the end of time. We are still made for a life and joy even in this imperfect world. So, what would it take to turn things around? No one knows for sure, but if a Mother Teresa of Calcutta—now Saint Teresa—could single-handedly (she began on the streets of Calcutta alone without resources) transform so much of the world around her, there clearly is a way to make a difference. This sort of spiritual movement requires no particular financial backing or weapons of mass destruction. The power of charity coming from the Holy Spirit is something stronger than any form of evil. Why could there not be, here and now for example, an kind of “Benedict Option Plus,” that would, not only allow for Christians and all men and women of good will to regroup around monastic centers of worship and civilization in order to save what can be saved, but would go even further, pushing forth from the silent contemplative center to feed the poor, heal the sick, and evangelize again our Christian world grown cold? That is for the younger generation to see.

This would seem, in any case, to be the plan of the Saints in Heaven we are celebrating today, the boldness of sanctity stemming from the deep roots of Catholic faith and culture and spreading to the last frontiers of the known world. The monks will stay where they belong, in their cloister, but the friends of monks, after drinking in this deep monastic wisdom will move outward according to the ancient scholastic formula: Bonum diffusivum sui, “the good tends to give of itself.” Why not? May the Holy Saints in Heaven intercede for us, and may the precious souls of our departed ones we will honor tomorrow help us in this great task. Our Lady of Fatima, pray for us. Saint Teresa of Calcutta, Saint Elizabeth of the Trinity, pray for us. Saint Benedict, intercede for us. Amen, Alleluia.

Post haec vidi turbam magnam…After this I saw a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and tribes, and peoples, and tongues, standing before the throne, and in sight of the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands (Apoc. 7:9).

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,
My very dear sons,

The spectacle that fills our eyes—the eyes of our soul—on this feast of All Saints, as we contemplate the countless throngs of Saints presented in the liturgical readings from the Apocalypse, resonates not only in the mind, but also in our heart of hearts. This blessed vision represents the consummation of all things at the end of human History, where we ardently expect our own salvation and that of those dear to us. If there is a deeper meaning to this thing we call “politics” (currently occupying many Americans) it can only be—or should only be—a path to such a blessed end, the supreme good for mankind—for each individual and for human society taken as a whole. In the inspired language of the Bible this happy consummation is simply called “the Kingdom of Heaven.”

Both before the coming of Christ and ever since, men have striven to create on earth a form of government and social organization that would assure a certain happiness already here below, as we await the final happiness of that Kingdom of God. The Greeks enriched the world with profound thought on the subject of this political dimension of life. The Romans put those ideas into practice in their vast Empire. The Christian world, finally, benefitting from the light of the Gospel and from the lessons of the Old Testament, learning as well from the doctrine of such giants as Saint Augustine and Saint Thomas Aquinas, employed immense efforts in giving birth, both to a Holy Roman Empire and to an impressive array of Catholic princedoms and kingdoms.

But how difficult this business of the political order has proved! Although there have been noteworthy exceptions, it seems that all too many political bodies in all too many places, even in Christian lands, have been cruelly inadequate when they were not outright tyrannies! Worse yet, for the past several centuries, especially since the French Revolution, the character of these great governments in Europe and America, has largely been one that rejects the wise and time-tested principles of the Christian political vision in favor of a vague exaltation of values like liberty and fraternity, excellent things in themselves, but open to manipulation by forces hostile to the Faith and to God’s natural law. As just about anyone can see we are now paying dearly for this kind of lowering of the standards! In America in particular we seem to be standing on the brink of a substantial breakdown of moral law and ethics—or perhaps the breakdown has already occurred.

Where do we turn? It is simply unchristian to wallow in self-pity or pagan sadness. The Apocalypse we are reading today was written in order to encourage the Christians of the Early Church during the first wave of persecutions. Later, the book entitled The City of God was crafted by Saint Augustine in a view of giving hope to the Church as the order of the Roman Empire began to give way to what has been called the Dark Ages. Hope is a small word with immense implications.

To begin with, since we always forget this essential point, we need to realize that we are not meant for perfect happiness in this imperfect world. Our present life, on this earth, in the Christian understanding of things—which is the most enlightened—is really only a rough draft and an imperfect attempt at the true Kingdom to which we aspire through our Faith and all we do. Salvation does not lie in the latest political “messiah” that may come along, even if he be a Charlemagne or a Saint Louis of France. God sometimes (but very rarely) sends a Saint Joan of Arc to help sort out a messy situation, but we are not to put all our hopes in any mere mortal. “Some trust in chariots,” says the psalmist, “and some in horses: but we will call upon the name of the Lord our God.” (Psalm 19:8, Douay-Reims.) And again, “Put not your trust in princes, in the children of men, in whom there is no salvation.” (Psalm 145: 2-3, Douay-Reims.) Our Lord summed it up as only the Son of God is able saying we must “render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and unto God what is God’s.” (Mt. 22:21.)

All the same, many or most of us, especially the young, want to work at some great plan to reform and restore the Christian order the best we can, while we await the Kingdom at the end of time. We are still made for a life and joy even in this imperfect world. So, what would it take to turn things around? No one knows for sure, but if a Mother Teresa of Calcutta—now Saint Teresa—could single-handedly (she began on the streets of Calcutta alone without resources) transform so much of the world around her, there clearly is a way to make a difference. This sort of spiritual movement requires no particular financial backing or weapons of mass destruction. The power of charity coming from the Holy Spirit is something stronger than any form of evil. Why could there not be, here and now for example, an kind of “Benedict Option Plus,” that would, not only allow for Christians and all men and women of good will to regroup around monastic centers of worship and civilization in order to save what can be saved, but would go even further, pushing forth from the silent contemplative center to feed the poor, heal the sick, and evangelize again our Christian world grown cold? That is for the younger generation to see.

This would seem, in any case, to be the plan of the Saints in Heaven we are celebrating today, the boldness of sanctity stemming from the deep roots of Catholic faith and culture and spreading to the last frontiers of the known world. The monks will stay where they belong, in their cloister, but the friends of monks, after drinking in this deep monastic wisdom will move outward according to the ancient scholastic formula: Bonum diffusivum sui, “the good tends to give of itself.” Why not? May the Holy Saints in Heaven intercede for us, and may the precious souls of our departed ones we will honor tomorrow help us in this great task. Our Lady of Fatima, pray for us. Saint Teresa of Calcutta, Saint Elizabeth of the Trinity, pray for us. Saint Benedict, intercede for us. Amen, Alleluia.