Two funerals in one week

Today, we celebrated the second funeral since my arrival.  In this case, the person in question was a woman I first met when I was assigned here in this city (within the first year or two after my ordination).  Here, for posterity's sake, is the homily I prepared:

Funeral homily for Nancy McCubbin

My first memories of Nancy were in the pews at the Pro-Cathedral.  It was there that I first met her, sitting on the left-hand side of the church (facing the altar), along with Alma and Dean.  More often than not, when I passed by the pew, Nancy had a smile for me, and a kind word about whatever it was that was going on at the time.

There are some people in life who seem to radiate a special love which has no bounds.  From what I’m told about the special role she played in the lives of all her nieces and nephews, and about the love she shared with all the members of her family, I can believe that Nancy had this gift of sharing love.  She shared this love with those she knew, with those who were closest to her, but she never tired of sharing this love with even those she only saw once in a while.  Her radiating smile, her kind words, her uncanny ability to know just the right gesture to help when assistance was most needed all bear witness to the type of love and acceptance which characterised her.  Visible gestures such as these are often born from the heart of one who knows the trials of suffering.  Love expressed in  such depth of compassion is only possible if we ourselves understand the desolation that Jesus must have known when he sat with his disciples at table and shared with them the special meal that we have come to know as the Last Supper.

John’s account tells us that he knew that his time on earth was limited, and yet even while faced with mounting doubts and fears, he was more concerned for his disciples: Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Believe in God, believe also in me.  Although the disciples couldn’t quite understand what he was talking about, Jesus was encouraging them to believe that he had already taught them everything that they needed, if only they would just believe in themselves.  How many times in life do we find ourselves paralyzed by fear of the unknown, rather than embracing the adventure of life with the certain knowledge that we already know the way, the truth and the life?  We were first introduced to him on the day of our baptism, and every day spent here on earth is another opportunity for us to know him, to trust him, and to share the joy of his love with those we meet.

On the surface, Nancy was always welcoming, but at another level, her struggles here on earth were numerous.  Those of us who knew her in this life are aware of at least some of the physical challenges, but few of us can fully comprehend the fear she must have known when she first discovered that she’d lose a part of her sight, or how frustrated she must have been at times when she couldn’t share treats that every child around her seemed to take for granted.  Even fewer of us were perhaps aware of the depth of faith that she was cultivating because of the struggles she had to face.  How else could she have faced life when it was such a challenge?  Yet she always lived with grace.  She always had a smile on her face when she greeted friends and strangers alike.

Just last week, when she knew that she needed some more surgery, she entrusted herself to the skill and care of the doctors, knowing that even if the situation was grave, she was not afraid.  She knew, as we all know that our souls are in the hands of God and that one day we are all destined to go Home to be with Him.  This transition is not something to be feared; rather it is the reunion for which we prepare ourselves every day of our lives.  We do this by learning how to trust in the God who we cannot see with our physical eyes, but who we know is present, right beside us every day.  His love for us is shared with us in ways small and not so small.  If we pay attention, we can learn to see it in the generous invitation to sit at the Sunday table, to join in the conversation that is just as likely to be peppered with laugher as with just the right amount of challenge to keep the intellectual side of us thinking.

The woman who we commend this day to our loving God would perhaps be the first to remind us that we need to be more and more convinced every day that each of us is beloved by God, that out of this love he sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him.  If we truly believe this, then let this gathering of faith not be one of sorrow and tears, but rather a celebration of thanks for all that has been accomplished through the hands, ears and heart of this woman of deep faith.  Let us celebrate around the Father’s table with the same faith that gave her a reason to laugh, for if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.