Funeral for a teenager

Thankfully, it's not often that I'm called upon to celebrate a funeral for a young person, but life and death don't operate on schedules.  Today, there were more than 500 high school students, hockey entusiasts, parents and teachers in the church for the Mass of Resurrection celebrated for Liam Kirkwood.

Since this was such a special circumstance, I've recorded the homily.  Readers can access the podcast version of the reflection here, or if you prefer, read the text that follows.

FUNERAL HOMILY FOR LIAM LAUCHLANN KIRKWOOD

Church of Christ the King, Sudbury

Thursday, April 12, 201

Last October, I was asked to preside at a school Mass that was celebrated at St. Benedict’s Secondary School.  Prior to my arrival, I was told that this particular day had been designated as a ‘dress-down day’ and that all the students who chose to ‘dress down’ would be wearing orange, and contributing money to help the family of Liam Kirkwood with the expenses involved with their travel to and from Sick Kids.

I watched in amazement as more and more students made their way into the gymnasium where the Mass was to be celebrated.  By the time they were all in place, there was a sea of orange, and I knew then that every student knew the story, and that every student knew the gravity of the situation.  Teenagers aren’t supposed to get this sick.  Teenagers aren’t supposed to have to face such sobering situations.  Teenagers are supposed to believe in what is just and fair, and speak up for those who have no voice.  They’re supposed to excel at academics and sports, enjoy music and the arts, dream of a future, plan careers, build a life, fall in love; but when we, or someone we love become seriously ill, there are some serious questions to be asked, some sobering realities to be faced, and we can never look at life the same way again.

I was told that Liam’s brothers were present on that day when we celebrated Mass in the gymnasium in October, but it wasn’t until a number of months later that I was to meet them.  That day was a Tuesday, the Tuesday of the March Break.  I had received a phone call from Jen, asking if I could speak with Liam, so I made my way to the Kirkwood home.  That was the day that I was introduced to Liam and his family.  I spoke that day with Liam, but I also spoke with Rick and Jen, and with Kylian, Devyn ,Sheehan and Mary.  Here was a family who like any other family had knit the bonds that hold us together.  Yet here was a family who had been through some very sobering moments in the past two years or so.

Over the next few weeks, I had other opportunities to visit.  At times, Liam was well enough to play games on his I-phone or to send text messages and emails to friends, even to plan for supper in a restaurant.  I asked him one day about his hobbies and he told me about playing hockey, but he never mentioned the part about being drafted by the Kingston Frontenacs: that was a part of the puzzle I would only learn long afterward.  He told me about playing ball (and I wasn’t sure at the time whether he meant football, baseball or basketball).  I found out afterward that each of these sports, and many more were part of the fabric of this young man’s life, and I thought then, ‘these are the things he’s supposed to be concerned about at this stage of life, but he’s been forced to grow up long before his time.  Here was a living example of the words we heard in the first reading today: Length of days is not what makes age honorable, nor number of years the true measure of life.

There were also days when Liam had to endure the suffering of his own cross as the cancer slowly robbed him of the vitality that had been so much a part of him.  Throughout these past two years, many of us here in this church today have stood by him and witnessed his suffering.  Each in our own way, we have tried to bring some measure of comfort to him and to his family, for that is what Jesus asked us to do when he entrusted his mother to the beloved disciple.  We don’t have a choice.  We MUST take care of one another in this world, until the day we reach our heavenly homeland.

Today, we are here in this church to celebrate the life of Liam Lauchlann Kirkwood.  The question that is still lingering perhaps in the back of our brains is what is there to celebrate?  Saint Paul said it this way: We believe that Jesus died and rose again, and that it will be the same for those who have died in Jesus.

Liam and Devyn were born on November 24, 1993.  One year later, they were baptised in the Church of Saint Andrew the Apostle.  The date was November 27, 1994.  Whether they realized it or not, on that day they received a very special gift.  On that day, they were both welcomed by the Christian community, with great joy and from that day onward, they have been called children of God, for so indeed (we all) are.  On that day in 1994, Rick and Jen received baptismal candles, one for each of their twins.  Enlightened by Christ, they (and we) have walked through life even to this day as children of the light.  I believe that Liam kept that flame of faith alive in his heart throughout the past eighteen years, and now that his earthly journey is complete, he can go out to meet (the Lord) with all the saints in the heavenly kingdom.

I don’t know if you realize it, but last Saturday, as Liam’s journey here on earth came to a close, the Church was celebrating the Easter Vigil, the Vigil of the Resurrection.  In the days leading up to that moment, we had considered Christ’s last meal, his promise to the repentant thief and to all of us: a promise of life in eternity. On Saturday evening, when Liam entered into eternal life, we were about to listen again to the promise of God’s saving love as it has been told and retold throughout the centuries in the Old Testament stories of our salvation and in the lived experience of the prophets.  Our faith teaches us that from the day of our baptism, we are clothed with a garment of salvation. How fitting it was that at the same moment that we were celebrating Christ’s victory over death, Liam himself was entering into a new life.

Can you imagine what that moment was like?  I can, and I believe that there will also be such a moment for each of us, when we too will complete our earthly life and will enter into eternal life.  I believe that there will come a day when the pain that is now in our hearts will be no more.  That day, we will see Liam again.  That day we will discover that the ravages of cancer are powerless over him, and he is free to run, to jump, to skate, to smile and to laugh.   In heaven, we will all one day know the fullness of life.  We will all one day know the freedom to truly laugh, with the resounding laughter of the children of God.

Today is about remembering this young man, who has been deeply loved from the day of his birth.  We are right to remember him.  We are right to celebrate him, but we must also leave this place today willing to imitate him, ready to live this life to the fullest, to love those who are close to us with a love that knows no limits, and to love those who are our enemies even more.  When our turn comes, each of us will then be able to go out to meet (our God) with all the saints in the heavenly kingdom. What a day that will be!

Some food for thought which we hope has reached (or will reach) the ears and souls that need it most.