All Saints’ Day

I was looking forward to a small mass in the Holy Souls Chapel in the Cathedral where the dark reds and browns of the mosaics are curiously restful. But instead we had a large Mass in the Nave with the school. Yet a most beautiful hymn poem was sung in Italian, which was just as good as a Latin Mass.

Tu sei la mia vita
Altro io non ho.
Tu sei la mia strada
La mia verita.
Nella tua parola,
Io camminero,
Finche avro rispiro –
Fino a quando tu vorrai.
Non avro paurra sai
Se tu sei con me,
Io ti prego, resta con me.

You are my life
I have no one but you.
You are my path
And you are my truth.
In your word
I will always walk
From the first breath I took –
Until I take my last.
I will not be frightened
If you are with me
My prayer is that you’ll stay beside me.

Are we all saints? No. Can we be? I fear not. Perhaps Calvin was right. Fear very few can manage it. Except in the desert.