Hallowe’en is for Catholics.

It is. There may be many other feasts and seasons marking this time of year as we drift, as the mist did this morning, into colder, darker days. But Hallowe’en itself is an acknowledgement of how important the Solemnity of All Saints is. Big events need preparation, so great feast days have vigils, giving us time to think about why they matter and how we should celebrate them.

From childhood, the saints have always felt like family. They gathered around the kitchen table whenever there was a problem and their particular gifts were called upon for whatever was needed: Christopher for journeys, Brigid for blessings, Monica for trouble with the children and, of course, Anthony for every set of lost keys or missing piece of homework. And always remembering to go back and say thank you with a candle or a prayer.

Time has only deepened those relationships. As has prayer. There are saints who have moved from being distant examples to trusted companions. They have shared experiences and life changes. I have visited their homes, walked where they walked, and sat with their memories and teachings.

Perhaps that is why the Beatitudes speak so powerfully on this feast. As we hear Jesus proclaim blessing upon the poor in spirit, the merciful, the peacemakers and those who hunger for righteousness, faces come to mind. Not perfect people. Not spiritual superheroes. Men and women who struggled, doubted and persevered. Saints whose lives reflected these blessings in ways both ordinary and extraordinary.

The Beatitudes remind us that holiness is not perfection. It is faithfulness. And as those familiar faces pass through my mind this All Saints Day, I am reminded that some friendships survive death itself. Gone before…not forgotten.

No one wants to do the simple stuff

Well, it probably seemed simple to the “not perfect but pretty near” Son of God.

Human beings, though, seem convinced that two rules just aren’t enough. Love the Lord your God. How difficult have we made that with our liturgies and rituals, our approvals and judgements? Really, how dare we criticise the Pharisees when we secretly nod along with their perceived standards?

Here’s my hint: try believing that God loves you.

I wonder what happens when you look in the mirror, both literally and reflectively. I suspect you’re a bit like me. You see the wrinkles and blemishes. You think about time wasted or opportunities missed. You notice what you hide and what you wish you could change.

Eventually, you may admit to a few positives, a few things worth celebrating. But let’s keep that low key, shall we?

Loving ourselves, without exceptions or apologies, can be difficult. Yet it’s necessary. Love is easily distorted by the lens of shame and unworthiness, whether directed at ourselves or at others, unless we choose to accept it anyway.

So try looking in that mirror and believing that God loves you.

Not the “one day” version of you.

Not the “if only” version of you.

You.

Because when love is freely offered and freely accepted, it becomes so much easier to give away.

God. Neighbour. Self.

A trinity of love contained in a single command. Maybe it is that simple.

The first post of a new blog, a new venture, a new commitment — perhaps. Let’s see how we go.

This passage isn’t an easy read. If I were in the mood to introduce myself in sackcloth and ashes, this would have been a post about how much I am like the tenants: taking every advantage God has offered me and believing that I was now in control. Not only imagining that I didn’t need God’s help, but sometimes rejecting it.

But that attitude is just as dogmatic as believing I am always in the right — that God is firmly in my corner and everything revolves around building the kingdom Jesus holds before me.

Neither is true and, of course, both are true. Jesus uses story to paint choices, not to point fingers. I recognise now that I have had a lifetime of good days and bad days. What I am coming to understand is that the real danger lies in standing still — in believing that I have finally worked it out.

And so, the journey continues.