FUNERAL HOMILY FOR RAYMOND MOREL

I can’t be totally sure about the date when my first visit with Raymond took place.  It might have been sometime shortly after my arrival here in this parish, a day when I visited with him in the hospital.  We spoke briefly (or perhaps I should say that I spoke briefly, for he was relying on nasal tubes to help him with breathing at the time).  Perhaps our first meeting took place a number of years ago, on a day when I would have been celebrating a weekday liturgy at the Pro-Cathedral, and he would have been there in the pews, silently suffering even then but all the while a man of prayer.

La semaine dernière, j’ai visité avec Raymond, Lilian et Sylivie à l’hôpital.  Par hazard, l’équippe d’infermières venaient juste d’apporter du café et des petits gateaux.  C’était apropos, je crois, qu’une tel geste d’hospitalité soit offerte.  D’après ce que je peux comprendre il y a toujours des petits coutoisies de cette sorte chez la famille Morel.

And what of this family, the family which gathers in this place, God`s family?  What little acts of kindness do we extend today as we welcome among us those who come to pray with us, to pray Ray into eternity?  When he was brought into the church, we placed upon his casket the pall, the white cloth which is a reminder of the white garment with which he was clothed on the day of his baptism.  We lit the Pascal candle, a reminder of the light of Christ which was entrusted to him on that same day when his parents brought him to the Church and began his journey of faith.  We sprinkled his casket with holy water, a reminder of the water of baptism with which he blessed himself every time he entered the church.  This is the water from the well of life which is spoken of in the second reading we have heard today, for it is the water that washes away sin and makes it possible for us to live the divine life which is promised by our God.

John’s vision of the holy city, and the New Jerusalem has now been revealed in its fullness to Raymond, and the generosity for which he is so well known is now rewarded with a banquet of rich food: the special food which is offered by God to all his beloved.  He who practiced such great hospitality in this life is now the recipient of divine hospitality, of food which satisfies every hunger, and of the fullness of life in the presence of God who has promised to wipe away every tear from our eyes.

Raymond and Lillian both possess the gift of a deep abiding faith, a gift that they in turn have confided to their children, and which they have watched take root in the hearts of their grandchildren and now their great-grandchildren.  In Ray`s case, I’m sure that this faith helped him to endure his many physical trials.  He might not have admitted it aloud, but we who gather here today saw in him a man who was poor in spirit, a man who was gentle and humble, a man who knew deep down that all of life is a gift from God, and when the day is done, we ought to thank God for all the blessings we have received, even the blessing of infirmity.

J’ose dire que ses compagnions membres du Club Richelieu et ses confrères Chevaliers de Colomb l’ont aidé à apprécier et à connaître d’avantage le don du Seigneur qui est réservé à ceux et celles qui répondent aux besoins des affamés.  C’est grâce à ces amis qu’il a pû être si miséricordieux; en toute vérité un procurer la paix.

I`m told that the poem Footprints in the sand held a special meaning for Raymond.  In fact, all those who have known and loved him in this life know and understand that he (that all of us) have moments in our lives when we can particularly relate to this poem.  May its words bring consolation to us who gather today in the presence of our God, our hearts filled with gratitude for all that Ray has been for us.  As long as we in our turn strive to carry our brothers and sisters in their time of need, and to bring them to know the abiding love of our God, the lessons that Ray has taught will live on, and we in our turn can look forward to the day when we will see him again.