Here is the text of the homily I prepared for the funeral we celebrated this afternoon: remembering and celebrating the life of one of this community's founding members and entrusting him into the eternal life that is our hope.
Two weeks ago, on Sunday morning, I made my way outside the church, to the steps where I could welcome the parishioners who were arriving for the celebration of the Mass. As I arrived under the canopy, I saw Lawrence sitting on the bench where he so often had sat before. We greeted each other and exchanged the customary pleasantries. As I stood nearby, greeting other newcomers, Lawrence sat and chatted easily with friends and acquaintances as he had done week after week.
The procession that entered the church doors that day was part of the continual flow that comes and goes from this place, day after day, like a never-ending river. From time to time, the flow of this river brings us together with those we come to know and love. Some of us sit on the banks of this waterway - pleasantly greeting those who pass by - and others of us jump right in.
Lawrence O'Malley may never have thought of his life as flowing like a river, but I think he would like the image. He was well known around town, comfortable in his own skin. If we were to speak of him in the words of the gospel, perhaps we might say that he was poor in spirit (Mt 5:3), a humble man who took great joy in spending time with other people. This gentle soul knew his own share of sorrow (cf Mt 5:4), but he never forgot that each one of us is a precious child of God.
To be honest, I think that Lawrence might be somewhat uncomfortable if we were to praise him for his goodness: to praise him for being the kind of person who always wanted to do what was right, or to remember the moments in our lives when we witnessed him as an example of mercy and forgiveness ... and what if we were to reminisce about moments in our lives when he played the part of a peacemaker? Would he be able to listen to such words easily or would he be squirming? Yet these are the attitudes that Jesus encourages each of us to develop and to practice. These are the attitudes for which people will remember us. These are some of the precious gifts that Lawrence has shared with us.
When this funeral Mass is complete, we will take his mortal remains to the cemetery. There, a few simple words will be engraved: reminders for us of the life he has lived, but perhaps the greatest message that he could impart to us is the testament of faith that he leaves. We are celebrating today because a promise that was made to Lawrence on the day of his baptism is now being fulfilled. We cannot witness this fulfillment with human eyes, because it is taking place in heaven. Instead, we must cling to the words that we have heard proclaimed here today.
As we leave the church, as we make our way to the cemetery, and as the river of our own lives' stories continues to flow, let us ask for the great gift to believe that our Redeemer lives ... that when our time comes, he will set us close to him, and from our flesh, we will look on God (Job 19:25-27).
Funeral Homily for Lawrence O'Malley
Two weeks ago, on Sunday morning, I made my way outside the church, to the steps where I could welcome the parishioners who were arriving for the celebration of the Mass. As I arrived under the canopy, I saw Lawrence sitting on the bench where he so often had sat before. We greeted each other and exchanged the customary pleasantries. As I stood nearby, greeting other newcomers, Lawrence sat and chatted easily with friends and acquaintances as he had done week after week.
The procession that entered the church doors that day was part of the continual flow that comes and goes from this place, day after day, like a never-ending river. From time to time, the flow of this river brings us together with those we come to know and love. Some of us sit on the banks of this waterway - pleasantly greeting those who pass by - and others of us jump right in.
Lawrence O'Malley may never have thought of his life as flowing like a river, but I think he would like the image. He was well known around town, comfortable in his own skin. If we were to speak of him in the words of the gospel, perhaps we might say that he was poor in spirit (Mt 5:3), a humble man who took great joy in spending time with other people. This gentle soul knew his own share of sorrow (cf Mt 5:4), but he never forgot that each one of us is a precious child of God.
To be honest, I think that Lawrence might be somewhat uncomfortable if we were to praise him for his goodness: to praise him for being the kind of person who always wanted to do what was right, or to remember the moments in our lives when we witnessed him as an example of mercy and forgiveness ... and what if we were to reminisce about moments in our lives when he played the part of a peacemaker? Would he be able to listen to such words easily or would he be squirming? Yet these are the attitudes that Jesus encourages each of us to develop and to practice. These are the attitudes for which people will remember us. These are some of the precious gifts that Lawrence has shared with us.
When this funeral Mass is complete, we will take his mortal remains to the cemetery. There, a few simple words will be engraved: reminders for us of the life he has lived, but perhaps the greatest message that he could impart to us is the testament of faith that he leaves. We are celebrating today because a promise that was made to Lawrence on the day of his baptism is now being fulfilled. We cannot witness this fulfillment with human eyes, because it is taking place in heaven. Instead, we must cling to the words that we have heard proclaimed here today.
As we leave the church, as we make our way to the cemetery, and as the river of our own lives' stories continues to flow, let us ask for the great gift to believe that our Redeemer lives ... that when our time comes, he will set us close to him, and from our flesh, we will look on God (Job 19:25-27).
No comments:
Post a Comment