Death, judgment, heaven and hell: there are the four last things. Purgatory is in there, too, as the anteroom to heaven. For weeks past and still to come we’ve been encouraged to think about death…

“Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”

So said J. Robert Oppenheimer, ‘father of the atomic bomb’, upon seeing the destructive power he had unleashed when the first A-bomb was detonated in New Mexico 75 years ago.

What a time to be Confirmed! Tonight, our young people complete their initiation into the Christian life, membership of the Church, and the communion of saints. But we gather in the face of a word that’s been on almost everyone’s lips for months now, a word most of us never used and many not even have known until the beginning of this year: pandemic.

One of my Dominican brothers, long since gone to God, wasn’t great at picking his audience or occasion. He was legendary for preaching on contraception in nursing homes. He used also to promise to “give ‘em hell” at Christmas, as he thought (rather uncharitably), that it was the likely destination for those who attended only annually!

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

200 years ago Fathers John Joseph Therry and Philip Conolly arrived in Sydney as the first official Catholic chaplains to the colony.

All Saints is not really the feast of all saints. It is not a celebration of those ‘living saints’ who are among us, transparent with God’s grace, demonstrating remarkable virtue. Nor is it a celebration of those becoming saints, whom St Paul dared call ‘saints’ already. No, All Saints is not about living saints.

It arrived in Australia in the dying days of the First World War. Ultimately the Spanish Flu would infect a third of the world’s population and kill at least 50 million people. All those docking in Sydney were isolated at North Head, next door to St Patrick’s Seminary.