Welcome to the Black Parade: An Anthem For All Saints Day

"For all the saints, who from their labours rest..." 

Okay, I'm sure you look at the title and are immediately thinking, "this guy is crazy." And you'd be right, but a blind acorn finds a squirrel every once and a while. Wait, that's isn't right. Anyways, I concede the point that I doubt Gerard Way had the historic Feast of All Saints in mind whenever he was writing the emo-masterpiece that is "Welcome to the Black Parade," but that doesn't mean it can't offer us reflections on what we mean and what we do surrounding All Saints Day. So, permit my madness for a bit as we walk through this amazing song and amazing feast.

(Warning: I will be removing the song from the context of the narrative of the album. Please listen to the album straight through because it's a masterpiece.)

So, at the beginning of the song, the father of the singer asks if he will be the "savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?" The reason he asks this is, "because one day, I'll leave you a phantom to lead you in the summer to join the Black Parade."

There's a lot to unpack here. It's interesting that he asks the singer if he will be the savior of the broken. Obviously, Christ alone is the savior of the broken (us), but if St. Paul may attribute the salvation of others to himself (1 Corinthians 10: 33, ESV), so can we. In this way, it is kind of like the saints as they are about to pass on, or join the Black Parade (which is obviously a metaphor for death), are asking if we are ready to carry on the torch? Can we be what they were?

I find the choice of "phantom" to be a pause for thought as well. There are two angles we can take on this. The phantom of the father figure or the phantom ala Holy Ghost. It's like the father is assuring the singer that he will still be with him, but differently. While he will be joining the Black Parade, his phantom will remain as a guide to the singer. From the other view, the father is saying that he will send a phantom guide, The Holy Ghost, to help lead the singer. Which can be linked to Christ sending the Holy Ghost at Pentecost, or the passing on of the Holy Spirit through Word and Sacrament. But where is the son being lead? To join the Black Parade himself! In both ways, the father figure is saying, "don't worry son, in my death I will teach you how to die." Whether that is by his own example or the Holy Ghost is left to interpretation, not that either are mutually exclusive.

There is another fascinating thing from this section of the song. The father is leaving to, "join the Black Parade." The use of the color black brings to mind death and mourning in the mind's eye of the listener, but the parade implies celebration. A rather apt understanding of death from the Christian's point of few. We all experience grief and loss at the death of a loved one, but the mere phrase to celebrate a requiem Mass implies some kind of joy. While there is mourning and sadness, we also celebrate the life of the dead person and anticipate their triumphant entrance into the Heavenly Kingdom.

After the introduction, we move into the first verse. Often in our lives, we feel like our loved ones/the saints are "watching over me." St. Paul reminds us that we are "surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses" (Hebrews 12:1, ESV). We can take comfort in that both in Christians around the world and those in the Church Triumphant are cheering us on in our daily battles.

The end of the first verse and going into the chorus is what really draws on the theme of the Feast of All Saints. The song goes:

"...And when you're gone we want you all to know

We'll carry on

We'll carry on

And though you're dead and gone, believe me

Your memory will carry on..."

In the same way that the saints are leaving us the graces of the Holy Spirit and of their exemplary lives, we also wish to leave them with the fact that they will not be forgotten. Their icons will be lifted high on banners, and adorn the walls of the grandest cathedrals. Not because they are gods in and of themselves, but because of what God did through them. They have become his instruments. On this feast of All Saints, where the Church celebrates the truly magnificent figures that God has lifted up throughout the centuries, here we see truly that their memory will be carried on.

Think of this in an even more practical way. How many of us wear medals of saints daily. We literally carry them on. They come with us on our day to day lives. They are not just some distant figure who happened to believe in Christ like I do. They are present realities that call us to bring God into our daily lives like they did.

The last part of the song I want to reflect on is the bridge. It's a little long, but I'm going to post it in full and then reflect on it. The bridge is:

"...Do or die, you'll never make me

Because the world will never take my heart

Go and try, you'll never break me 

We want it all, we wanna play this part 

I won't explain or say I'm sorry 

I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scars

Give a cheer for all the broken

Listen here, because it's who we are

I'm just a man, I'm not a hero

Just a boy, who had to sing this song..."

There's a lot to unpack here, so let's begin. The idea that the world won't take his heart you can draw a clear parallel with the Christian calling to be in the world and not of it. That's the great paradox of it. We are not to reject the world in its entirety, but we must also chastise it and avoid that which doesn't bring us closer to God. This is something the saints exemplify so clearly. We have hermit saints, doctor saints, monarch saints, married saints, celibate saints, and the list goes on and on. People that we can look to in order to see how they interacted with the world and remained faithful to God, a practice that Christians of the modern-day must become experts in. 

Some may be curious about the idea of showing scars, but this is also something the saints before us did. They weren't perfect. Yes, we call them saints now but if you asked them when they were alive, they'd probably consider themselves the worst of sinners. There is a story of a holy desert father who was on his death bed. His disciples were all around him and asked him if he had repented of his sins so that he may enter heaven and he said something like, "children, I have not yet begun to repent." Many ancient saints would write long texts simply entitled Confessions (St. Augustine's being the most famous of these) where they would list their countless sins and how God's grace changed their lives. Being a saint is not being perfect and spotless. It's showing your wounds to God and showing your scars to others. What are scars anyways? They are healed wounds. The remnant of the wound remains, a reminder, but it isn't there anymore. I think grace works this way somehow. Kind of like how Christ still bore the wounds of the Crucifixion even on his resurrected body.

The final part of the bridge that I find pretty cool is the line "I'm just a man, I'm not a hero, just a boy, who had to sing this song..." The saints are clearly special. God uplifted them so that makes someone pretty special, but in the same breath, they really are just like you and I. None of them had these grandiose plans. St. Thomas Aquinas didn't start writing the Summa Theologiae because he wanted to gain the title "Angelic Doctor," he did it because that's what he was supposed to do. He was just a simple Dominican monk. The saints were happy just playing the part God had given them. And I think that is the key to all of this. Contentment in living in the world/sphere/community/friend group that God has placed you. It's when you live in that simplicity that greatness finds you. That's another paradox of Christianity. It's only whenever you desire the small that you are given the grand. Those who search for glory rarely do for the right reasons.

God appears in the weirdest of places. Even sad emo-punk songs. So give this album another listen (trust me it's worth it) and see where you see Him popping up. And of course, give glory to God for your favorite saint. Whether it's your late prayerful grandmother or St. Joan of Arc, jam out and mutter a short "Glory Be."