theophilus January 5th, 2008
I went to a funeral today – and it was one of the most spiritually, inspiring moments of my life.
The man we were mourning died Wednesday morning of a heart attack at the age of 59. I’m not going to tell you much about him except that he leaves behind his loving wife and five children – four of whom are grown.
What I am going to tell you about is his funeral Mass – as if you had walked into church and didn’t know who had died. I do this because I realized today that, if you die middle-aged but still relatively young (and 59 is relatively young) and are not a celebrity, your funeral Mass is a good indication of how well you lived your life.
The funeral today was for a man who lived his life very well.
Our parish is new, suburban and large - with a suitably sized church to accomodate our needs. And it was packed this morning. The full choir was there. Lectors and eucharistic ministers drawn from the parish. The celebrants were the current pastor, assistant pastor and deacon – and the only other living pastor and three assistant pastors the parish has ever known. For good measure, another celebrant was a family friend and former pastor at the mother parish from which our’s came. Right there on the altar was the pastoral history of our parish.
This man we were mourning was a teacher – and his students were there. He and his wife have been intimately involved in the parish – so many of us could have thought we were at Sunday Mass.
The service was beautiful and comforting. Our pastor’s homily put everything into the perspective that makes Catholicism so inspiring and fundamental to our lives. After communion, one of our former assistant pastors shared some remembrances – and had everyone laughing, remembering and reflecting.
And as we walked out of the assembly area - for those who knew each other - a special moment occurred. We were brought together as a family - in mourning and remembrance for a man who touched our lives, even if for a brief moment. And he had touched our lives by deepening the faith we shared. We were all part of a family – his family – and Christ’s family.
What kind of man can accomplish such great feats? What kind of man lives such a genuinely great life that his funeral mass is packed with so many whose lives he touched? What kind of man could generate such love and affection, and bring so many closer together? This man did – and in doing so, it was clear to us all that he was the face of Christ and walked with Christ throughout his life.
And, I resolved this day – in my church – before Jesus, Mary and St. Joseph - to be that type of man. We mourned a great man today and celebrated a remarkable and Christlike life. I want to be a good man – I want to live a remarkable life - I want to live a Christlike life. We all should – and we all can.
The back of the funeral mass program had this passage which sums it up perfectly -
Blessed is the Man
Blessed is the man for whom a good woman lives, to whom his work is a pleasure, by whom his friends are encouraged, with whom others are comfortable, in whom a clear conscience abides, and through whom his children see God.
Blessed is the man whose strength is enhanced by his tenderness, whose wisdom is empowered by his faith, and whose courage is made complete by his compassion.
Blessed is the man who looks at life with joyful optimism, who listens to his children with eager attentiveness, who enriches his community with creative enthusiasm, who loves his country with grateful loyalty, and who worships his God with unswerving fidelity.
Blessed is the man who brings honor to the word “father,” who is a credit to the word “brotherhood,” who is a quiet example of the word “peacemaker,” and who is a child’s perfect image of the word “manhood.”
Blessed is the man who confidently builds bridges of understanding, who generously lightens the loads of his fellow man, and who cheerfully brightens each day with words of hope, inspiration and assurance.
Blessed is the man of whom his children often say, “We’re glad he’s our father,” of whom his wife often says, “I’m glad he’s my husband,” of whom his parents often said, “We’re glad he’s our son.”
This says it all – this the life we should aspire to – this is the life God expects us to live – this is a life well-lived.
I knew this man for too short of a period of a time – yet, he enriched my life and made me a better man – that’s the kind of man he was – that is the kind of man we all should and need to be.
May we be as blessed as he was.
