Today, we celebrated a funeral Mass for one of the pioneers of this faith community: an occasion for giving thanks in prayer for the gift of having shared a moment in God's time, and a chance to reflect on the lessons that we must now continue to teach.
The parish community of Saint Peter the Apostle gathers here this morning to pray our brother Phillip into eternity. Phillip and Diane have been part of this parish long before we began meeting in this particular location: ever since the days when this community of believers would gather in another location on the other side of the highway. They and their two sons, Kevin and Dennis, have been part of the joyous celebrations that have knit us together, and they have been present during the times of trial which have moulded this community into the wonderful gathering of God’s faithful that it is. Through the years that have come and gone, there have been additions to this little family (which is a part of a much larger family, as we can see from those who have gathered here today) as Kelly’s and Carole’s lives were also intertwined with theirs, and then it grew even more as Grace, Mya, Jacob and Patrick also added their own special joy. Occasions of joy and celebration have been abundant in the life of this family, and these are the moments that we should always remember and treasure, but there have also been other times when, like all other families, you have had to face challenges and questions. While some might have puzzled about how to face the challenges of life, Phillip’s faith has always been strong and steadfast, and his confidence has rubbed off. Faith in God is the gift that we have all inherited through baptism; it is the reason why we have gathered here to pray today.
Many of us can attest to the fact that in his day, Phillip was a very meticulous man. He paid painstaking attention to the smallest details. He made his living because of his ability to heed such minute details. In his latter days, his struggle with physical challenges made it almost impossible for a casual bystander to know how fastidious he once was, yet while other evidence may all but have disappeared, his faith and trust in God never waned.
Just over a week ago, Phillip was sitting here in the church for Mass. He was weak, but he was here. When the Mass was complete, we needed to bring in a wheelchair to help him back to the car, but even though he couldn’t stand up on his own, he was at peace. The last thing I did before he left the church that day was to anoint him with the oil that is prepared for the Sacrament of the Sick. A simple gesture of placing blessed oil on his forehead and on the palms of his hands, and the words of a prayer were enough to bring peace to his soul and a faint smile to his face: the smile that said even without words that all was right with the world.
Gathered here today to pray in faith, there may still be some among us who look on, uncomprehending, asking the human question: why? Why did he have to die now? Why were he and Diane not permitted the great joy of celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of their marriage? Why was Phillip not able to witness the baptism of his youngest grandchild? These are all valid human questions, but here in this place today, we are witnessing something much larger than the scope of human questions. We trust that grace and mercy, the gifts of our God, await the chosen of the Lord, including Phillip, including all of us.
Saint Paul reminds us that when we were baptized in Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We don’t often think of baptism in that way, but our faith teaches us that this is true: when we were baptized, we … joined him in death. Throughout his life here on earth, Phillip lived this truth every time that he died to himself: every time that he thought of someone else’s needs and placed those needs ahead of his own. He was able to do this because he was convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that having died with Christ, we shall return to life with him when this life is complete.
Like Phillip, we have come to believe that each one of us is a precious child of God, part of the family of faith that Jesus came to teach us about. At times of trial in our lives here on earth, when we have to face the questions that seem not to have any suitable human answers, we have learned to listen for the words of Jesus himself: all that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me, I shall not turn away.
Dear friends, in these days of Advent, while we prepare for the celebration of Christmas, let us come to Jesus and trust that he will never turn us away. Let us never lose hope in the promise that he has given us: the promise that this earthly life of ours is but a preparation for a heavenly life that we will all live with him one day. Let us ask him to take Phillip’s soul to live in peace with him, and let us ask Our Lady, the Mother of Jesus to pray for us, that we will have the courage to live lives of hope and love, sharing the joy of our faith with everyone we meet.
Funeral homily for Phillip Aultman
The parish community of Saint Peter the Apostle gathers here this morning to pray our brother Phillip into eternity. Phillip and Diane have been part of this parish long before we began meeting in this particular location: ever since the days when this community of believers would gather in another location on the other side of the highway. They and their two sons, Kevin and Dennis, have been part of the joyous celebrations that have knit us together, and they have been present during the times of trial which have moulded this community into the wonderful gathering of God’s faithful that it is. Through the years that have come and gone, there have been additions to this little family (which is a part of a much larger family, as we can see from those who have gathered here today) as Kelly’s and Carole’s lives were also intertwined with theirs, and then it grew even more as Grace, Mya, Jacob and Patrick also added their own special joy. Occasions of joy and celebration have been abundant in the life of this family, and these are the moments that we should always remember and treasure, but there have also been other times when, like all other families, you have had to face challenges and questions. While some might have puzzled about how to face the challenges of life, Phillip’s faith has always been strong and steadfast, and his confidence has rubbed off. Faith in God is the gift that we have all inherited through baptism; it is the reason why we have gathered here to pray today.
Many of us can attest to the fact that in his day, Phillip was a very meticulous man. He paid painstaking attention to the smallest details. He made his living because of his ability to heed such minute details. In his latter days, his struggle with physical challenges made it almost impossible for a casual bystander to know how fastidious he once was, yet while other evidence may all but have disappeared, his faith and trust in God never waned.
Just over a week ago, Phillip was sitting here in the church for Mass. He was weak, but he was here. When the Mass was complete, we needed to bring in a wheelchair to help him back to the car, but even though he couldn’t stand up on his own, he was at peace. The last thing I did before he left the church that day was to anoint him with the oil that is prepared for the Sacrament of the Sick. A simple gesture of placing blessed oil on his forehead and on the palms of his hands, and the words of a prayer were enough to bring peace to his soul and a faint smile to his face: the smile that said even without words that all was right with the world.
Gathered here today to pray in faith, there may still be some among us who look on, uncomprehending, asking the human question: why? Why did he have to die now? Why were he and Diane not permitted the great joy of celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of their marriage? Why was Phillip not able to witness the baptism of his youngest grandchild? These are all valid human questions, but here in this place today, we are witnessing something much larger than the scope of human questions. We trust that grace and mercy, the gifts of our God, await the chosen of the Lord, including Phillip, including all of us.
Saint Paul reminds us that when we were baptized in Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We don’t often think of baptism in that way, but our faith teaches us that this is true: when we were baptized, we … joined him in death. Throughout his life here on earth, Phillip lived this truth every time that he died to himself: every time that he thought of someone else’s needs and placed those needs ahead of his own. He was able to do this because he was convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that having died with Christ, we shall return to life with him when this life is complete.
Like Phillip, we have come to believe that each one of us is a precious child of God, part of the family of faith that Jesus came to teach us about. At times of trial in our lives here on earth, when we have to face the questions that seem not to have any suitable human answers, we have learned to listen for the words of Jesus himself: all that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me, I shall not turn away.
Dear friends, in these days of Advent, while we prepare for the celebration of Christmas, let us come to Jesus and trust that he will never turn us away. Let us never lose hope in the promise that he has given us: the promise that this earthly life of ours is but a preparation for a heavenly life that we will all live with him one day. Let us ask him to take Phillip’s soul to live in peace with him, and let us ask Our Lady, the Mother of Jesus to pray for us, that we will have the courage to live lives of hope and love, sharing the joy of our faith with everyone we meet.
No comments:
Post a Comment