Pauline Phillips, an Iowa native, better known as “Dear Abby,” provided perhaps the most provocative and sincere advice: “A church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints.” And so we are, yet, hopefully on the path toward holiness. Friday, November 1st, is All Saints Day, a holy day of obligation; a singular day to recall those canonized and uncanonized saints in heaven, a mingling of personalities, abilities, struggles and accomplishments, with their own unique story of a life on earth and journey of faith amidst temptations, trials and holiness. Their sainthood remains a blessing regardless of the years since their death, as examples to guide our own faith journey, and intercessors to God on our behalf. One such ‘saint in the process’ is Blessed Franz Jägerstätter, born to a single mother in 1907, whose Catholic faith would much later lead him to refuse induction into service for Nazi Germany. Though he attended church regularly through his teen years, Franz was more interested in revelry with occasional fist fights. He fathered a child out of wedlock and he then began to seriously consider the responsibilities of his faith, and to his child and the mother. At the age of 29 he would enter into marriage and raise three daughters, while supporting his other child. They made their livelihood on the farm provided by his foster father, drawing strength from their Catholic faith to gratefully share with their neighbors, care for the land, and draw strength to weather difficulties and uncertainties through prayer and the Eucharist. When Nazi Germany annexed his homeland, Austria, he was the only one in his community to object. When he was drafted to serve for in the army for the cause of fascism, he refused acknowledging how such would conflict with his Catholic faith. His wife supported his decision, though his pastor tried to talk him out of it. He was imprisoned and sentenced to death by the Nazi regime, beheaded on August 9th, 1943 at the age of 36, (exactly one year after the death of another Holocaust martyr, Edith Stein, St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross). While awaiting his execution he wrote the following in a letter to his family: “These few words are being set down here as they come from my mind and heart. And if I must write them with my hands in chains, I find that much better than if my will were in chains. Neither prison nor chains nor sentence of death can rob a man of the Faith and his free will. God gives so much strength that it is possible to bear any suffering, a strength far stronger than any might of the world.” He was ‘beautified’ by Pope John Paul II in 2007 as martyr for the faith with the final step toward canonization in the process. Franz’s life story reminds us of an essential aspect of saints and sainthood, best described by a favorite Christian writer of mine, Frederick Buechner: “The feet of saints are as much of clay as every else’s, and their sainthood consists less of what they have done than of what God has for some reason chosen to do through them. . . .You figure that maybe there’s nobody God can’t use as a means of grace, including even ourselves. The Holy Spirit has been called ‘the Lord, the giver of life’ and, drawing their power from that source, saints are essentially life-givers. To be with them is to become more alive.” Each church in our parish will celebrate the Eucharist for this holy day of All Saints: a vigil Mass on Thursday, 5:30pm, at St. Malachy; Friday, 9:15am Mass at St. John, and noon Mass at Sacred Heart. As our Christian calendar holds, the following day, November 2nd, is All Souls Day marking the month as that of “Remembrance.” You are invited to write a name(s) in the Book of Remembrance with an invitation for anyone to write in a name(s) of those who died. They will be prayed for at each weekend Mass during November. “Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Is there a prayer more human and sincere than that of the good thief on the cross? And of our gospel passage. “What do you want me to do for you,” Jesus asked Bartimaeus. “Son of the unclean,” the root meaning of his name. Further research has uncovered another meaning to the blind begger’s name: “son of the highly prized.” “Sure, he asked for healing, and wouldn’t all of us if we could? But, after he was healed, he followed Jesus. It wasn’t just about regaining his sight; it was about changing course in his life. ‘We can only see our outsides, but nearly everything happens on the inside.’ Isn’t that the truth? Bartimaeus was a man who knew his deep need because he was willing to dig deep inside and discover what was most important. The story of Bartimaeus urges us to do the same. What is it that we really need? How might we make space to ask ourselves that question and discover the answer? (April Fiet, Fill My Cup Lord). And to trust in such, despite how ‘society’ tries to manipulate our decisions and integrity. God Bless, Fr. Tim FYI: “Keep me reasonably sweet, O Lord; I do not want to be a Saint—some of them are so hard to live with—but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people. And, give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.” (17th century “Old Nun’s Prayer,” St. Albans Abbey)