SIGNS
Author: Fr. Michael Byron
August 07, 2021
Twice this week, during
conversations with people who are grieving over recently deceased family
members, I was asked if I believe in signs from beyond the grave. In both cases
the question was raised hesitantly, sheepishly, almost with embarrassment. And in both cases I was immediate in
responding with an absolute “yes!” And
it was only then that they felt safe in sharing their stories about what they
had experienced, what they firmly believe to have been tokens of grace and
assurance from the people whom they have loved unto death.
Why is that? Not why are there signs, but why are we so
slow to trust them when they happen? Why
does it feel so weird to share them with other people?
There are a couple of perfectly
good and healthy reasons why. One is
that there can be a fine line between true faith in God and superstition. We are absolutely right to be vigilant about
that, and to be able to know the difference. Not every coincidence, not every
inexplicable event of life is necessarily from God, and there always seems to
be enough self-appointed religious wisdom figures around to explain why the
tornado dropped here rather than there, or why God sponsors the pandemic. To
recoil from that sort of delusional thinking and theorizing is absolutely
right, absolutely sane.
And a second good reason why
people are slow to trust heavenly signs is that we are accustomed to trusting
the perfectly ordinary earthly expressions of God’s love for us that happen all
the time and we are absolutely right to do so. I think of that great and familiar hymn, “For the Beauty of the Earth,”
as an example of the first looking around at the seemingly ordinary blessings
of human life and of recognizing that they have their origin in God:
For the beauty of the Earth; for the glory
of the skies
For
the love which from our birth; over and around us lies
Lord of all
to You we raise this our hymn of grateful praise
For the joy
of human love; brother, sister, parents, child
Friends on
Earth and friends above; for all gentle thoughts and mild
Lord of all
to You we raise this our hymn of grateful praise.
So yes, there are reasons not to
be too quick to put our religious faith in private signs. They can be elusive and can sometimes be
misunderstood and lead us astray. There’s a very good reason why Catholic Christians put our first trust
in a faith that is communal, shared among the many, and rooted in an ancient
tradition. The way to God is not
ultimately a private endeavor, although some religions believe otherwise. But at the same time, we profess faith in a
God who
is attentive to the longings of
every single human heart—not just collectively, but as individuals. And we
profess faith in a communion of saints, both here on earth and in heaven.
Our loved ones who have gone to
God before us actually are present here whenever we celebrate Eucharist. They are praying with us and for us. So it is
not at all strange that once in a while they send along a little sign to encourage
us. I admit that I don’t get many of
them, but when others do I absolutely believe it.
The question of signs is actually
a very ancient and biblical one. Frequently the Israelites asked God for signs so that they might believe
in Him. And Jesus was often requested to
offer up signs as a proof of who He was. And interestingly, Jesus often refused to deliver on those requests, for
a very specific reason. Namely, faith
comes first, and then sometimes signs come later. We are not summoned to believe in God because
of extraordinary or weird things that happen to us. We are first called to believe because of
God’s abiding and life-giving presence to us each and every day—in the beauty
of the earth, in the joy of human love. Special signs may have their place, and we should honor them when they
occur, but they are not frequent or reliable enough to sustain faith.
Today’s first reading from the
book of Kings involves a sign from God. A despairing prophet, Elijah, has been praying for death and then falls
asleep under a tree. When he awakes,
there is bread and water there in the desert for him to eat and drink. A sign, but one which he recognizes as such
because he has already believed and has followed his call to serve God, and has
suffered greatly for it as true prophets do. Elijah trusts the sign because he has first known the true God and God’s
intentions for his life. The sign is an expression of encouragement and
consolation, but it’s not the reason for trusting in the first place. That would be a superstition.
And in today’s gospel, Jesus gives
us the preeminent and enduring sign of His presence—the Eucharist, the Bread of Life—which perhaps
paradoxically could have limited ability to amaze us precisely because it is so
frequently present to us. Elijah was
alone, despairing, ready to walk away from his calling, until he received a
sign. When we are in our own desert
places today—alone, despairing, ready to quit—this table and this gathering is
our sign. This is our regular assurance that
God and all of our deceased loved ones are among us in prayer, in compassion,
in assurance.
Do we believe in signs beyond the
grave? I certainly hope so, because I’m
not sure why we should otherwise be here. When those signs come to us sometimes to be amazed at, let us be
grateful. But when they sometimes come
in very regular occasions, let us still be grateful.
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