Beloved, and never forgotten

Today, we celebrated a Memorial Mass for the soul of one of God's precious children, remembered and always loved by those who knew her in this world, and who now await the day when they will see her once again in heaven.

Funeral homily for Laura Lee Lafontaine

This morning, Laurie’s family and friends have come to this place to remember and to give thanks.  The gospel passage we just listened to recounts the details of another occasion when the family and friends of one who had died also gathered.  Saint Luke tells us that the dead man was being carried out for burial, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow.  This scripture passage came to mind the other day when I was speaking with Virginia.  I learned that you too are a widow, that you have also experienced the death of others in your family, and I began to think that the human reaction to so much tragedy would normally be anger, or bitterness, yet as we spoke, I heard a different song in your heart.

We spoke the other day about Laurie, about her hardy laugh, about the fact that she was never afraid of hard work, about her commitment to renovating the home in which she lived, about some of her dreams to explore this wonderful countryside of ours in the new motor home – the motor home that she never got the chance to enjoy.  We spoke about the discovery of a tumor and about the subsequent treatments that were administered, and we spoke about the onset of pneumonia that slowed her down even more.  Throughout our conversation, there was a repeated phrase: you never know what the future will bring.  I wonder if that woman, who was taking her sons body out of the city to be buried was thinking the same thing: you never know what the future will bring.

In the time of Jesus, a woman whose husband had died, and whose son had also died would have been condemned to a life of begging.  She would have to rely on the generosity of others for even the smallest of conveniences.  It would not have been unexpected that this woman too should react to such bitter condemnation with anger, or bitterness, yet the procession that was leaving the town that day was interrupted by another procession.  The meeting of these two processions changed that woman’s life forever.  Even today, when the procession of our lives intersects with the procession of Jesus, our lives too are changed.  Our gathering here in this church today is not one of sadness, but one of faith and hope.  We have not come here to dwell on tragedy, but rather to celebrate the beginning of a new life for Laurie.  In this place, we celebrate the meeting of our lives with the life of Jesus, the moment at which we hear him speak the same words he spoke that day: Do not cry … young man, young woman, get up.

Our gathering here today is one of joy and celebration, for we too are filled with awe as we witness the fulfillment of the Lord’s commands.  We who have been washed in the waters of baptism, we who have shared the banquet of the Eucharist here on earth, also believe that when this earthly journey is complete, we will feast forever at the banquet table that awaits us in heaven.  What we receive at this altar is but a taste of the rich food that awaits us.  In the meanwhile, our God never leaves us alone.  In fact, he is always close to us, revealing himself to us in the moments of our lives when we need him most – like he did to the widow who was taking her son’s body out to be buried.

Saint Paul reminds us in the second reading we heard today that we should be quite certain … about those who have died … We believe that Jesus died and rose again, and that it will be the same for those who have died in Jesus.  It is right that we should go out from this place today to tell others the wonderful stories we treasure in our hearts: stories about a woman whose laughter resounded and invited others to discover the joy of living; stories about a woman who was dedicated to the service of others and yet content to immerse herself in the blessings of nature; stories about the man who came from heaven to teach us about the Father’s deep, abiding love for us; stories about the tender heart of our God who stoops down from his heavens to wipe away the tears from our cheeks, to console us, to strengthen us and to encourage us to tell everyone we meet that a great prophet has appeared among us: God has visited his people.