Hebrews 12:1 suggests that those who depart with the sign of faith go to the Father in their souls while their bodies wait for the resurrection on the last day. While there, perfected, and in bliss, but without their bodies, they are aware of us. From Revelation 6:9-10 we get the idea that the saints in glory are praying for us, urging Christ to bring our sorrows to an end and reunite the Church according to His promise.

Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:1–2, NKJV)

When He opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the testimony which they held. And they cried with a loud voice, saying, “How long, O Lord, holy and true, until You judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?” (Revelation 6:9–10, NKJV)

The passages don’t have to be taken in exactly this way. The greater context of Scripture and the analogy of faith must be taken into account. There are passages that suggest a simpler reality, that is that the faithful do not exactly experience death but instead, in the twinkling of an eye, go directly to the last day. I have some problems with that but I can’t say that it is heresy. And, at the same time, the ideas that the souls of the departed go immediately to the Father without their bodies, even as Jesus’ soul did on Good Friday, and that the saints in heaven are watching us and praying for us are not contrary to the faith either. So also there are passages like those above that certainly seem to say precisely that.

Why does it matter? For me, it matters because when my grandchildren do something adorable and I turn to my wife and say, “I wish my dad and your mom were here to see this.” She says, “Who says they aren’t?” I find great comfort in that.

We are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. St. Paul (yes, it is Paul: get over it.) says their presence is meant to encourage us to lay aside every weight, and separate ourselves from sin, and help us to run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus. This implies they are witnessing our failures and temptations, not just our joys. Even in the moment when I turn to my wife to lament the absence of my father, my father, perfected in the faith, sees more deeply than I do. He sees the temptation that I suffer: to think that grandchildren are a good worth clinging to and a failure to fully trust in the goodness to come in the new creation. Becoming aware of his presence, not just of Christ’s presence, but aware of my father’s presence, helps me to fight these temptations. It reminds me and encourages me to lay aside the weight of needing him and his approval here in time and the fear of missing out. It helps to separate me from the sin of thinking that I know what is best or even what makes for happiness. And, finally, it helps me to run with endurance the race that is set before me, looking unto Jesus, knowing what is real, what is eternal, and what matters, and more eager than ever for the reunion to come.