(Listen to this homily here).
I’d like to welcome you again to St. Thomas Aquinas
parish. On behalf of our parish
family and St. Columban parish family, be assured of our daily prayers for all
of you, and know of our concern and our compassion as you continue to grieve
the loss of your loved ones.
I
want to acknowledge and affirm the courage it took for you to even come this
evening. Facing difficulties and
memories, this may be the very place you said goodbye to your loved one and your
heart is probably being ripped open again. This is the place where your heart can be open again safely
and in the arms of Christ.
We
hear the prophet Isaiah promise us, “On this mountain the LORD of hosts will
provide for all peoples…he will destroy death forever…the LORD God will wipe
away the tears from all faces.”
This
is that mountain. Whenever we
gather for the holy sacrifice of the Mass, we ascend nothing short of the
mountain of God itself. This is
the place, of all the places of the world, where heaven kisses earth—where we
are actually closer to our loved ones in heaven now than anywhere else. It’s a place where we can come as we
are, whether full of joy or full of sorrow, with broken hearts, confused or
lost. This is your family…this is
the mountain of God right here.
You’re always welcome here at Mass and at our parish and I encourage you
to keep coming. Not just because
we have much to give to you—although this is true. But you have much to give to us and to our family.
One
of my heroes in the faith is Pope John Paul II, now St. John Paul II. He was famous for visiting the sick and
during these times he assured them of his prayers. But more importantly he asked this person to pray for
him. He said that his ministry to
lead the universality of the Church depended on them.
I
wish we could have a visual of the effectiveness of prayers for one who
suffers, or one who grieves, because they are far more potent and
effective. It is easy to pray when
things are going well, or if we need something. It can be very difficult to pray—and that’s normal—when we
face grief or confusion or a loss.
But those are in fact the most powerful prayers we can offer.
Simply
crying out to God like the prophets did—“Why God?”—or like the Psalms, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Those are the words Jesus said on the
cross. Those prayers are good and
healthy, and it’s ok to say whatever we are experiencing to the Lord.
One
of the first questions we process with—and we may keep asking it for the rest
of our lives is, “Why God?” But as
you continue to grow, grieve and process, I would invite you to consider
another question: “Where are you God?”
Because God says He is nearer to those who suffer.
Think
of that famous poem Footprints. After dying, a man looks back on his
life and sees two sets of footprints during the easy times of life when the
path was smooth and flat. But when
the terrain was rocky and difficult, there was only one set of footprints. This man asked Jesus, “Lord, why in the
darkest moments did you leave me alone?”
Jesus’ response in this poem—“It was in those times I carried you.”
That’s
what Jesus is doing whenever we suffer.
And your prayers for us are crucial and essential. The gifts and talents you bring, your
suffering, can help others who face trauma.
Just
this afternoon I celebrated Mass at the Good Samaritan Care Center. I know many of your loved ones are
there now, or who lived there before they died. I was so touched at the Sign of Peace watching how our daily
Mass crowd—who I believe are the heart and soul of our parish—not only their
presence at this Mass, but during the Sign of Peace their affection and love
and friendship for those who are aging, who are suffering physically and
mentally. I was tearing up seeing
the love our family shares and I am very proud of that love. That love is here always for you and
your family.
We
come here tonight not just to grieve, not just to remember bad memories, but to
be convicted in the great hope of Jesus Christ. Jesus, while on earth, took a man who was four days dead
(named Lazarus) and rose him from the dead. That’s who we follow—the master of death. And the good news for us tonight, and
those who have gone before is that, unlike Lazarus—who rose only to die again—we
can trust that your loved ones have been raised from death to new life. They have nothing left to fear, they
have no more pain, depression or illness.
We pray that they are with Jesus in heaven forever.
Finally,
I speak for all of you in thanking the many people from our parish—for Pat
Bjorum—for all the doctors and nurses you have encountered that show how Christ
is present among the sick and in our parish. I am so grateful and proud for all of our parishioners and
the work they do for the many that society would leave on the fringes. As a Church we often speak about
seeking the lost, but when it comes to the sick and the dying I believe we live
that out faithfully. I am very
proud of that and it has been going on for a long time.
I
pray this evening that the Lord may send His Spirit upon you—His Spirit of joy
and comfort—His Spirit of remembrance and faith, hope and love.
I
pray for all of our dearly departed: “Grant eternal life to them, O Lord, and
let perpetual light shine upon them forever.”
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