The way, the truth and the life

Here is the text of the homily I prepared for the funeral we celebrated today: a celebration of faith for the gift of life that has now been granted to our sister - the reward for a life of love lived for the sake of her children and those who shared her journey.

Funeral homily for Agata Marmino

This community of faith has assembled here this morning in order to pray once again with our sister Agata and with her family.  We come here because we are a people of faith who believe the words that Saint Paul once wrote to the Christians at Corinth: I tell you something that has been a secret: we are not all going to die, but we shall all be changed (1 Cor 15:51).

What the world around us perceives as death, we Christians believe to be nothing more than a change, because Christ has already died once for all of us.  Our life on this earth is therefore a preparation of sorts for the life that we will know when we too are changed, when we too meet him face to face.

This truth is not something easy to comprehend yet it is the reason why we gather here today, why this is not a moment of sadness but rather a celebration of joy.  Those who knew Agata in this life know that she always sought to please God (cf Wis 4:10) as she also sought to please those who were privileged enough to be welcomed into her home.  The faith that she lived each day, she also taught to her children, and now you are the ones who must live this faith with the same conviction that she herself strove every day to demonstrate.

On one hand, eighty years can seem to be a very long time, but no matter how old we are, there is always a part of us that remains a child, a curious child who has lots of questions.  Even when we grow to adulthood and find ourselves gifted with children of our own, there is always a part of us that remains young and innocent in the eyes of God.  From this innocence, we learn to trust that when our earthly journey is complete, God will find our souls to be pleasing to him, and will take us quickly to live in his presence forever (cf Wis 4:13-14).

I learned the other day that even in the midst of her physical infirmity, Aggie was worried about who would take care of her children when she was gone.  I wonder if perhaps she was granted a moment of consolation, whether she perhaps heard the words of Jesus as they once were spoken to the disciples themselves when he knew that his time with them was drawing to a close: Do not let your heart be troubled; trust in God still and trust in me (Jn 14:1).  These words of consolation which Jesus himself spoke to his disciples help us too to face the inevitability that those we love will all one day be called home to heaven.

Agata spent her entire life trying to teach her children about Jesus, trying to show them by her life and her example that it is possible to trust in the promises he offers.  This is so that at this moment when she is no longer physically present, you might know that there is more to the story.  We Christians believe that physical death is but a moment of transformation and that our journey continues until we reach our heavenly homeland in the Father’s house.  There are many rooms in our Father’s house, there is room for everyone, and even though there may be a part of us that feels like Thomas, wanting to respond: but Lord, we do not know where you are going, so how can we know the way (cf Jn 14:5), the truth is that we already know the way that we must follow.  Jesus is the way, the truth and the life (Jn 14:6).  All we need to do is trust in him, strive every day to live in the light of his love, and to share this love with those we meet.  He will always guide us along the right path until the day that we too are called to enter into our Father’s house, the place where we will be reunited with Aggie and with those who have gone before us, and live forever in the fullness of light and love.