Photo by Joyce Donovan, Louis Keczan, Jr., Barbara Baker, Joseph Picone, Maria Sutton, Raymond Gizara, Jacqueline Plemmons, JoAnn Graham, Esther Baxa, Anna Maria Caria, Gale Smith, Martin Costa, Lawrence Sechtman, Carolyn Fielding, Steven Wilkins, Eleanor Degnan, Michael Ashcroft, Claudette Gagnon, Rick Martina, Carol Tatum, Kerry Bayada, Roberto Castillo, John Chojnacki III, Michael Bishop, Beth Gavin, Kitty Nocella …
From this time last year, these our sisters and brothers have been called home to the Father’s house, marked with the sign of faith. Each has lived among us a portion of their lives, some even shared with us the Eucharist week after week. Many of them we commended to God from this church, asking pardon for their sins, celebrating their achievements, giving thanks for all they have been to us. Some of them we laid to rest right here in this community or elsewhere in the Commonwealth, some returned to be with family out of state. We may have known some personally. A few had been active in our parish for many years, while some have faded in the months and years before their passing, brought to our attention in their final illness. We encountered them along our journey, and they walked alongside us a while. But as with many along the journey, our paths diverged. The mark they leave behind reminds us how our paths converged for a time, and how our lives are richer and deeper for that encounter. So we pause to give thanks for the beauty, light, and warmth they shared with us. And we entrust them to our loving God and Father who welcomes them home.
We all know others whose names I did not mention, but who like these 26 have been called home to God. I ask you, if you haven’t yet, to write their names in our Book of Remembrance. You will tell me you wrote their names down last year and the year before. I invite you to do it yet again. Sometimes, we can’t name them all individually, perhaps because there are too many, or because our memory fails us, or causes us pain. Instead, we make up names no one else will recognize or we remember them together by a common family name, confident that God remembers each of them, whether or not we do. I believe it is our privilege and responsibility to keep their memory alive, so we should never tire of remembering them by name. I invite you also to bring to church a photo of your loved one, to help us remember. These our friends are still with us in other ways, through the stories we tell, the lessons they taught, the values we learned. We will remember them at each mass this month when we place the book upon the altar. By this gesture we place our loved ones in God’s hands, whose care extends from before we loved them into life eternal.
For some of us the memory of loss may still evoke pain. And there will always be a void, an emptiness that will not ever be filled in this life, and memories that will send us back into grief. With tenderness, embrace the bittersweet memories, mindful that we will be reunited with our loved ones when we ourselves will cross the great divide. In the meantime, the emptiness moves us along because like those who have gone ahead into life, we are but travelers on a journey to a better place. There our God awaits us along with our loved ones whose memory we keep. It will be a grand reunion when we sit together at the wedding banquet to share each other’s company in God’s embrace.
In this season of gradually failing light and sharp biting wind, we watch how nature prepares for the sleep of winter. Around us trees and plants are ablaze with color. In a matter of days, maybe a week or two, they will shed their leaves. What remains will be barren branches, a disguise that mimics death. But we know they will bloom again in the spring, the rest they take necessary to restore and renew their lives within. So it is with our loved ones who sleep in death. Our Lord reminds us that the Father wills he not lose those who are his own, but that he raise them up on the last day. They rest in God’s peace awaiting the new spring of everlasting life.
Our faith teaches us that death is not the end, that we are created for eternity, that a great reward awaits those who persevere in faith. We read about it in scripture. Each week we proclaim faith in the resurrection of the body and life everlasting. The unknown is not the least bit comforting when we are unable to see past the tears that cloud our eyes, or the darkness that veils our minds, or the sorrow that numbs our hearts. But faith is not about proof. Faith is not about answers. Faith is about trusting despite our lack of understanding. It is about believing without seeing. It is about taking a step forward into the darkness not knowing where our feet will land, yet trusting that solid ground will appear or that we will be given wings to fly, because One who is worthy of trust will not make promises he cannot keep.
It is also appropriate to remember today those who have gone ahead from this life, who struggled with faith as we ourselves struggle. Today we remember them, after remembering yesterday the saints, who have attained victory and who now reign with God in heaven. Yesterday we remembered the Church triumphant, the great multitude of women and men who have received the glory God promises to those who persevere. Today we remember and pray for the Church suffering, the blessed souls who await the promise of glory after the time of purification is complete. With the Church triumphant in heaven and the Church suffering in purgatory, we on earth make up the one Church of Christ, the communion of saints. We are all friends of God in various stages of struggle and purification and victory. And our prayers of support for each other unite us in one faith, a faith that relies on the justice and mercy of the God of Jesus Christ.
I encourage us to teach our children about death as we teach them about life, that death is only a door, and what lies behind the door is life beyond our power to imagine or comprehend. We have celebrated and attended many funerals. We have said goodbye to grandparents and parents, spouses and siblings, aunts and uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews, neighbors and friends. We have kept vigil for victims of violence and hatred, for those who died too young, for those who died too soon. We have given thanks to God for the lives of those who have left behind beautiful children and loving families, works of art and achievements for the advancement of the human family. We have raised hearts in prayer for those who died strangers to ourselves and to those whom they once called family, for those who brought more pain and suffering into this world, for those whom society has deemed worthless and lost. And with them we hold firmly to a hope in what we do not see, to a hope in what we do not understand. We believe that the God and Father of Jesus Christ is truly our salvation and that in the end, God will bring us safely home to himself.
Rolo B Castillo © 2025
This was a fantastic homily!
Thanks Nancy.