On 1 November we commemorate the saints who have died and gone before us into the new world that is our true homeland, that far-off country that forever in this life seems so distant and yet which is as close as our own breath and thoughts. We already have friends, children, parents, relatives there before us, beckoning to us not to be afraid and to one day join them.
On the night before All Saints, children in many places will celebrate Halloween, (All Hallows Eve), unaware it is one of the most profoundly Christian dates of the year. There is nothing wrong with trick or treat but it would be nice if there were a wider awareness of how beautiful Halloween really is. It is, after all, the Night of the Saints.
Think of Basilides and Potamiana, the centurion and beautiful young woman both martyred at Alexandria in the 2nd century whose testimony in blood and love was uncovered by Eusebius’ researchers.
Potamiana came from a Christian family at Alexandria which lived at the time of the persecution against Christianity under Emperor Severus who reigned from 193-211AD. Basilides was a centurion of the Roman army.
He was probably a strong man, chosen for the sorts of qualities armies look for in men who have to keep an army disciplined. Potamiana’s beauty was well known. Called before the local court to worship a statue of the Emperor as divine, she refused, displaying a fiery courage unexpected in such a young woman.
The judge of the tribunal threatened to hand her over to the legionaries to be raped and sexually abused if she did not worship the Emperor. Spectators in the court jeered at her but, undaunted, she remained strong in her fidelity to Christ. As Basilides led her away to prison he seems to have been touched by her beauty and courage, protecting her from the insults of the crowd. She responded, telling him at one point that when she was gone she would ask the Lord to make him hers. Soon after, she was martyred by having boiling pitch slowly poured over her from head to toe.
Some nights later, Basilides awoke in the middle of the night to find the dead Potamiana standing at the foot of his bed. She gently told him the Lord had granted her request, that he was to be hers. As the persecution continued, the Legionaries were also required to submit and worship the Emperor but, to his comrades’ astonishment, Basilides announced he was a Christian.
He persisted and, like the other Christians, was led away to jail. There, the Christians didn’t trust him but he told them his experience. They baptised him and the following day he was beheaded and joined his beloved Potamiana in heaven.
These are the remarkable, official saints, holy men and women standing in God’s holy fire whose thoughts and prayers surround us like a great cloud of witnesses. They give us courage, joy, hope. At All Hallows, we can join our intentions to theirs and ask them to help us and to help the world, drawing in an instant upon the power of heaven itself.
Like All Saints, All Souls is also a beautiful occasion with just as practical an object, to assist those who have died but exist in that mysterious state we call Purgatory. Purgatory, we think, is a place of suffering but we hear less often that it is simultaneously a place of joy. Those in Purgatory want to be there and their joy is the knowledge that heaven is guaranteed.
They need our help because it seems they cannot pray for themselves. Our prayers for their intentions push them through to God. They, for their part, return the favour and pull us through from the other side. Here is what the communion of the saints is all about. We are connected. The lesson of these days is that sainthood is normality, the search for which brings us joy; it is meant to be for all of us and is nothing less than our destiny itself.