Commentary on Isaiah 25:6,7-9; Romans 5:5-11; Matthew 11:25-30

On All Souls Day, the church commemorates the death and memory of all the faithful departed, especially in light of the feast of All Saints celebrated the day before. In many parishes, the entire month of November, or at least a significant portion of it, is dedicated to praying for the dead who now rest in the merciful hands of God. The practice of praying for the dead recognizes that, while in faith we trust in an afterlife, we also do not quite know how it all fits together. Today’s readings provide both a glimpse of what awaits all the faithful departed, as well as a trusted anchor for us who remain in anticipation.

A Place
Isaiah’s chapter 25 has been called a ‘mini-apocalypse’. The vision interrupts the prophet’s oracles against the nations, powers, and armies surrounding Israel in order to focus on a particular mountain settlement as the eternal home of God’s people. ‘Apocalypse’ in this instance carries the opposite effect of any doomsday scenario that the word connotes within popular imagination. There are elements of terror in apocalyptic biblical literature, but in this chapter it refers to a revelation about life after death. That concept, ‘life after death,’ is already shrouded for the ancient Hebrew imagination, and Isaiah addresses it rather boldly. There is a shift now in the Book of Isaiah that does not see the nations as the greatest threat against Israel. Rather, ‘the shroud’ or ‘death’ is identified as the real threat against Israel and all peoples.  

The text here is specific:

On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food… And he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples… and he will swallow up death forever.

Where is “this mountain”? One might immediately think of Jerusalem. However, this vision in the previous chapter has already mentioned Mount Zion (see Is 24:23). This place is an eternal dwelling, away from political tensions of the nations. Theologically speaking, an eternal dwelling place can be thought of both as quantity and quality. One person might emphasize the duration of the afterlife as forever in the concept of time and space. The text, however, describes this heavenly reality with respect to the qualities of the place. What kind of setting is this? There is no death. The closest sense the author provides for the reader is set within the context of a great feast, a meal with the richest food imaginable.

A feast like this was reserved only for wedding banquets, for a special religious observance like Passover, or the enthronement of a king in ancient times. A meal like this, with lavish portions of “rich food” as Isaiah describes, would be out of reach for most ancient Israelites. But that’s the point. You can still imagine it while understanding how rare and special a feast like this might be, especially when all is provided for by a great Host. Heaven, in Christian terms, is the place where the will of the Host is fulfilled wholly and comprehensively. Whenever we capture a sense of God’s will on earth and a feeling that we are living out the kingdom of God, we are experiencing a glimpse of heaven. As described in Isaiah’s passage, although it is possible for us to conceive of eternally dwelling in the afterlife, it is rare to be able to live out that belief consistently on earth. But we are told to wait in anticipation for these higher realities to be revealed to us:

It will be said on that day, “See, this is our God; we have waited for him, so that he might save us.”

A Specific Grace
St Paul eloquently pours out a chain reaction of statements that leads to a sure hope in God’s love now realized through Jesus’s self-offering. There is no longer any shame haunting the believer:

Hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.

What is this “shame” that Paul mentions? Paul writes with a Jewish background well aware of the Jewish biblical logic that there is no justification for the ungodly. There is shame in the death of the unrighteous. But just ones also die. What about them? Here is where Paul’s theology shines the brightest. Justification comes through faith, struggle, weakness—and all these ultimately from and through Christ:

But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. Much more surely, therefore, since we have now been justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath of God.

The “wrath” (i.e. death) deserved no longer applies because of the efforts of God’s son. This becomes the reconciliation that Paul argues for, and assures the person of faith to hope in for his or her own life. When one considers that divine wrath is actually quelled, according to the Apostle, the scripture brings relief for the person who has passed away. But even more, there is also a sense of relief for their loved ones who remain.

An Anchor to Another Anchor
In today’s passage from Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus preached a certain mysticism signaling the burden of everyday life and its problems, while holding up a spiritual roadmap that leads to rest and peace. The heaviness of life and the moral challenges we sometimes face are not easy to navigate. Yet, Jesus insists on a path forward:

Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

We all have problems and burdens. Imagine if every person of faith took on the right problems and courageously carried noble burdens for the betterment of their souls and the world around them. Imagine if every Christian held Jesus’ words in the highest esteem:

…my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

The kind of rest that Jesus promises—the kind that assures you that your faith and life have not been lived out in vain—indeed gives birth to a lightness for the burdens and losses we carry. That kind of persistence and existence provides a way to a life well lived and a final death that has lost its sting. So Jesus tells us:

Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.