The community I have the privilege to serve is truly a blessing. It is filled with generous and loving people, each of whom brings his or her gifts and offers them for the good of the community. Today, we bid farewell to another of our long-time parishioners, a man who taught many to live a life of faith. May he now be rewarded for his faith.
Funeral homily for
Gerald Villeneuve
This morning, we have come together to look back on the
nine decades that God granted to our brother Gerry, and as we do, the words
written in the book of Ecclesiastes help to remind us of many of the moments
that we have shared with him. There is
indeed a time in all our lives for every matter under heaven: a time to be
born and a time to die (Ecc 3:1-2).
Not many of us were around to witness Gerry’s birth into this world, but
today we are celebrating his birth into the fullness of life in heaven. Gerry prepared for this day with every day
that he spent living here on earth: each customer he served furnished him with
another opportunity to give of himself; and every moment he spent with his
precious daughters, or with his beloved siblings, with his grandchildren and
with his many friends gave us an opportunity to know the joy of sharing his
life, and to witness the many ways he gave of himself out of love for others.
In all our lives, we find a time for planting and a time for plucking up what was planted (Ecc
3:2); a time to weep with those who are
mourning and a time to rejoice and celebrate (cf Ecc 3:4); a time to keep silence and a time when we
must speak (Ecc 3:7). As we hear these words repeated today,
they resound in our hearts like the ticking of a clock, and we remember
occasions that we shared with Gerry, when he planted the seed of faith in our
hearts by sharing with us his own story of faith, or perhaps moments when he
wept in sympathy with us, even as we remember times when he laughed and
celebrated good times. Perhaps we can
still hear the sound of his voice as we think back upon moments when he spoke
with us and we kept silence, listening to his wisdom.
Members of his family are not the only ones who benefitted
from his generosity, his devotion to this community, to feeding the hungry, to
helping the less fortunate and to keeping the memory of wartime heroes alive
lest we forget all that they have done for us.
Throughout his life, faith was always an important part
of Gerry’s life. On many occasions he
knelt in prayer. How many times did he
read the words that the apostle Paul wrote to the early Christian community on
the Greek island of Corinth: Listen, I
tell you a mystery! We will not all die,
but we will all be changed (1 Cor 15:51).
Paul’s words are filled with promise.
They speak of a change that takes place every day in the heart of every
person who is a disciple of Jesus, as he gently invites us to walk with him, to
learn from him and to allow his light to shine through our words and
actions. Paul’s words also speak of a
time to come, when we will all be changed – our bodies will wear out but our
spirits will live on in eternity. This
is the very truth that we are celebrating here today, for now that Gerry has
completed his earthly pilgrimage, his perishable
body now puts on imperishability, and
his mortal body gives way to immortality (cf 1 Cor 15:53).
As for us, our hearts are saddened because although we
have always known that this day would come, when it arrives, it is always
unsettling, yet we take comfort in the words that Jesus addressed to his
disciples: Do not let your hearts be
troubled. Believe in God, believe also
in me (Jn 14:1). In his youth, Gerry
learned about Jesus, and about his eternal Father, our eternal Father. In turn, he taught each one of you to believe
that our heavenly Father never leaves us alone.
He is always near to us, providing for our needs, teaching us to
appreciate the beauty of nature, the experience of joy … and even his
comforting presence in our times of trial and distress.
Now that Jesus has prepared a place in the Father’s house for Gerry, he has returned to take him to himself (cf Jn 14:3), and we who stand by to witness this moment of heavenly homecoming are also filled with questions. Like Thomas, there is a part of us that wants to cry out: Lord, we do not know where you are going, so how can we know the way (cf Jn 14:5) that we must follow? Jesus’ words, first spoken so tenderly to his beloved Thomas are now spoken to us as well, to comfort us and to reassure us: You know the way to the place where I am going (Jn 14:4); I am the way, the truth and the life (Jn 14:6). So dear friends, let us come to Jesus in our moments of grief, let us seek the way with him, let us trust always that he will show the way to truth and to the fullness of life.
Now that Jesus has prepared a place in the Father’s house for Gerry, he has returned to take him to himself (cf Jn 14:3), and we who stand by to witness this moment of heavenly homecoming are also filled with questions. Like Thomas, there is a part of us that wants to cry out: Lord, we do not know where you are going, so how can we know the way (cf Jn 14:5) that we must follow? Jesus’ words, first spoken so tenderly to his beloved Thomas are now spoken to us as well, to comfort us and to reassure us: You know the way to the place where I am going (Jn 14:4); I am the way, the truth and the life (Jn 14:6). So dear friends, let us come to Jesus in our moments of grief, let us seek the way with him, let us trust always that he will show the way to truth and to the fullness of life.
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