Ann and Larry realized something was gravely wrong during their recent vacation abroad. She was experiencing persistent and unexplained fatigue and shortness of breath. Just some forty days later, the cancer present and growing within her ended her earthly life. It’s stunning, it’s shocking, that a woman we know as being so energetically alive could pass away from us so quickly. As a good and faithful spouse to Larry after James’ passing, as a loving, caring mother to David, Kristin, and Ken, as a devoted, attentive grandma to her grandkids, as a dedicated psychologist to the clients and couples she served, as someone known and loved by us, her death creates a painful absence. How strange, how jarring, how incongruous it is, to be having her funeral now – so very close to Christmas. At a time for togetherness, we’re separated. In a season celebrating heavenly peace, we’re unsettled here on earth. Christmas joy, veiled by dismay. This is not how we imagine Christmas to be. And yet… the first Christmas was troubled too.
About fifteen months before the first Christmas, when Zachariah exited the temple sanctuary after having encountered an angel, he made excited, mute gestures to the people. Some concluded that he had seen vision but Zachariah was unable to speak or hear for many months. His wife, Elizabeth, may have worried whether her beloved suffered a stroke. Would he ever speak again? Then Elizabeth herself began to be unwell. She felt nauseous every day and noticed her abdomen expanding. Could she “who was called barren” somehow be pregnant, or was something gravely wrong?
Nine months before the first Christmas, the Blessed Virgin Mary gave her “Yes” to God’s plan at the Annunciation in Nazareth. An angel told Mary she would become the mother of the Messiah, but many details about her future remained hidden from her. Would her husband. Joseph, believe her when she told him? Would he become angry or afraid and decide to leave her? Joseph came very close to erroring and divorcing Mary, either because he judged her unworthy of him or because, believing her, he thought himself unworthy of her. After a torturous time of doubt and uncertainty, an angel visited Joseph in a dream and got him back on the right track.
Joseph resolved to be the very best protector and provider to Mary and her Holy Child that he could be. So imagine his great frustration that first Christmas night, consider his distress at being unable to find a proper place for Mary’s labor and Jesus’ birth; only an unclean cave with a feed trough for a crib. The first Christmas and the events leading up to it were not easy for the people who lived them. Their times were troubled, with hardships and fears. But in the end, now looking back, the accomplishment of God’s loving plan for them was more beautiful than any of them would have imagined.
See what God did for these saints of his who suffered: St. Elizabeth was not sick and dying but with child, carrying the forerunner of the Christ. St. Zachariah would regain his voice and rejoice in their firstborn son, St. John the Baptist. St. Mary would never be abandoned, but was lovingly cared for through it all. And St. Joseph succeeded in his mission to be the best father on earth. Jesus Christ’s birth in a stable was not an accident, not a divine oversight, but according to God’s plan. Their stories are a sign for us, a lesson for our lives. The Scriptures repeatedly tell us to hope in God and the good things to come.
The author of today’s first reading laments, “My soul is deprived of peace, I have forgotten what happiness is,” yet the prophet does not despair. “The favors of the Lord are not exhausted, his mercies are not spent. … Good is the Lord to one who waits for him, to the soul that seeks him. It is good to hope in silence for the saving help of the Lord.” St. John tells us in our second reading: “The way we came to know love was that [Jesus] laid down his life for us.” Our Lord faced dying so bravely because he knew not even death would end God the Father’s blessings toward him.
Today we gather in this famous and beautiful cathedral to offer the Church’s greatest prayer, the Holy Mass, for Ann’s soul and our consolation. She and Larry have been parishioners here at Holy Name for years, attending Sunday Mass and sometimes weekday Masses, too. From this altar, Ann received her Lord, his Body and Blood, his Soul and Divinity, his living and entire Self, in the Holy Eucharist. Jesus says in our Gospel, “My Flesh is true food and my Blood is true drink… Whoever eats my Flesh and drinks my Blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day.” Today, we remember and are consoled by Jesus’ promise to Ann and us: “Whoever eats this bread will live forever.”
Because of Ann’s parting, this Christmas will not be as we envisioned. But we are consoled by the truth that even amid these trials God is accomplishing his loving plan for us, a plan which is more beautiful than we can now imagine.
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.
Parishable Items 