All of you who know Jeanette have a sense of the great woman she is. Perhaps you know her as a wonderful mother, who, when asked by any one of her eight children “Do you love me better than everybody else?” would honestly and beautifully reply, “I love you in a special way, just like all your siblings.” Or perhaps you know her as a faithful aunt, grandmother, great grandmother, or friend, whose joy and optimism always shone forth, and who, when she spoke to you, regarded you as if you were the most important person in the world.
She’s the kind of woman who some fifty years ago, when a petition went around her Connecticut neighborhood trying to run minority households out of town, refused to sign based upon firm Christian conviction, strongly rebuked the very idea, and befriended black families to help them feel more welcome there. She’s the kind of woman who felt very sad after her beloved husband Richard’s death in 1998 but, rather than turning-in on herself, intentionally looked around for others in need, volunteering and mentoring. I would bet that each of us here who knows Jeanette has a story about her, and I hope that you would recount them to one another. Today, I would like to share with you a story of mine about something God did for her less than twenty-four hours before she passed.
Ordinarily, on Tuesday afternoons, I visit Dove Nursing Home, where Jeanette has lived in recent years. But before last Tuesday, I had not been there for eight weeks. The facility had been on lockdown due to Covid and November 2nd was my first time back to celebrate Mass for the residents. After Mass, by providence, I was tipped off that Jeanette could use a room visit. I had previously given her the sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, but I was informed her condition had declined since then. After seeing her, praying for her, and blessing her, I realized that it was now time for Jeanette to receive Last Rites. I fetched my ritual book and holy oil from my car and returned to her that hour. Jeanette knew that I was there because once I began she made a feeble Sign of the Cross and weakly said, “Amen.” The highlights of the Last Rites feature the Apostolic Pardon, the Anointing, the Litany of the Saints, and the Final Commendation.
First, I pronounced over Jeanette the Apostolic Pardon:
“Through the holy mysteries of our redemption may almighty God release you from all punishments in this life and in the life to come. May he open to you the gates of paradise and welcome you to everlasting joy. … By the authority which the Apostolic See has given me, I grant you a full pardon and the remission of all your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
On the first Easter Sunday evening, the Risen Jesus appeared to his apostles in the Upper Room saying, “Peace be with you… Peace be with you.” Then he breathed on them and said, “Receive the holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.” Jesus did this that his apostles may be witnesses to the Resurrection and ministers of the forgiveness of sins after baptism.
Next, I anointed her head and hands with blessed olive oil, saying:
“Through this holy anointing, may the Lord in His love and mercy help you with the grace of the Holy Spirit. May the Lord who frees you from sin save you and raise you up.”
In our bodies we suffer and in our bodies, when connected with Christ, we are sanctified. Unless Jesus returns first, in these bodies we shall die and in these bodies we shall rise.
With the Litany of the Saints we call upon our holy friends in heaven, for the dead in Christ are not truly dead. As Jesus told Martha mourning at the death of her brother, Lazarus, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” “He is not the God of the dead but of the living,” so they are ‘all are alive in him.’ With this hope, we pray for the purification, perfection, and peace of our dearly departed and ask the saints in heaven to pray for us.
And last of all, came Jeanette’s Final Commendation. I said:
“I commend you, my dear sister, to almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator. May you return to Him who formed you from the dust of the earth. May holy Mary, the angels, and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace. May Christ who died for you admit you into his garden of paradise. May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of his flock. May He forgive all your sins, and set you among those He has chosen. May you see your Redeemer face to face, and enjoy the vision of God for ever. Amen.”
I hope that I am graced to hear these words and receive these holy rites myself someday. After these blessed sacraments, prayers, and benedictions, I suspect Jeanette was very grateful and felt ready and well-prepared to go to meet our Lord. She passed away the next morning.
On November 1st, we in the Church celebrated All Saints. On November 2nd, we celebrated All Souls. And on November 3rd, Jeanette followed after them. This is not the end of all stories about Jeanette, but the beginning of new stories; stories which she will joyfully share with us one day, if you and I faithfully follow Jesus Christ like her.
He is known and loved by many. A man others are drawn to because they feel welcome and loved around him. He is wise and witty, joyful and just, honest and unpretentious; a strong, steady, peaceful presence. A great storyteller and a great listener. A hardworking craftsman who both builds and repairs. He’s faithful and devout, hating no one, a lover of God’s word and a believer in the Resurrection. He is the reason that we are all gathered here today. The man I speak of is Jesus Christ.
St. John the Baptist Parish is honored welcome you and to offer our greatest prayer, the Holy Mass, for John’s soul and the consolation of all who know and love him. No short funeral homily can capture the fullness of a person. If I were to preach to you for an hour about his life, afterwards I bet that each of you here could add another unique story. This morning, I’m going to reflect upon just a single aspect of John’s life, one that all of you who are his family and friends are already familiar with: his being a chef.
Today St. Paul’s Parish is pleased to open our church and offer our prayers at this wake service for Len, whom you know and love so well. No brief homily can capture the fullness of someone’s life. But I believe that aspects of a Christian’s life will contain images of Christian mysteries. Jesus preached about the Kingdom of God using images like captured fish, sprouting seeds, precious pearls, and other things as illustrations. Similarly, a particular part I learned about Len’s life—though surely not the most important aspect of his life—especially strikes me as an icon of important Christian truths.
We extend to you, who mourn Barb’s passing most, our sympathy and condolences. We are honored and grateful to be able to offer today, here inside of Barb’s former parish church, our greatest prayer: the Holy Mass. May its graces help purify Barb’s soul of any imperfection, speed her soul to heaven, console all those who mourn her here below, and strengthen us on all our own lives’ journeys to God. No brief funeral homily can present the fullness of a Christian life, but holy aspects of a Christian’s life will reflect God’s goodness, beauty, and truth.
Beatrice, Bob’s wife of sixty-six years, and his children have shared with me many stories about him. For instance, they told me of his precious Catholic faith in Jesus Christ. It was so important to Bob that he sacrificed for all eight of his children to be taught eight years each at St. Paul’s Catholic School. More recently, during the Covid pandemic and his infirmity, he would worship by watching the Holy Mass on TV, and delighted to have Jesus brought to his home in the Holy Eucharist. Through the years, at Bob’s supper table, where everyone had his or her own special spot, Bob would pray before meals, a devotion he always kept to the end of his life.
I know Marcy from celebrating Masses at Dove nursing home. I was blessed to give her the Last Rites (consisting of Holy Anointing, the Apostolic Pardon, and her final Holy Communion – which is called Viaticum) two days before she passed. Today, her own St. John the Baptist Parish is honored to offer our greatest prayer, the Holy Mass, for her soul. I found her to be a faithful and pleasant person, as did the staff and residents at Dove, who I am told cherished her as a sweet and motherly lady. Her family has told me a number of interesting stories about her and I would like to share some of these various stories with you.
Though children are small and weak, Jesus says, “See that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that their angels in heaven always look upon the face of my heavenly Father.” They have no wealth or worldly power, but Jesus says, “Unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Jesus, calling a child over and putting his arms around it, says, “Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Jesus says that children are to be treasured and loved like himself: “Whoever receives one child such as this in my name receives me.” Jesus says, “Let the children come to me, and do not prevent them; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” In just the same way as a good shepherd hates to lose even one of his many sheep, Jesus says, “it is not the will of your heavenly Father that one of these little ones be lost.” Indeed, ‘Jesus loves the little children, all the little children of the world.’
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