November 2 2003

Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church

Homily for November 2, 2003
Year B - Cycle I
All Souls' Day
By Fr. John Carney
Topic: Preparing Ourselves for Death
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Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 15:51-57

"Brothers and Sisters: Behold, I tell you a mystery. We shall not all fall asleep, but we will all be changed, in an instant, in the blink of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For that which is corruptible must clothe itself with incorruptibility, and that which is mortal must clothe itself with immortality...then the word that is written shall come about: 'Death is swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?'..."

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All Souls’ Day has two purposes. The first purpose is to remind us of those who have gone before us so that we might pray for them, that we might speed them on so that they might see the face of the Christ and know the fullness of heaven. The second purpose is to remind ourselves that we want to join them and that we also have to pass though the doors of death one day. We Catholics have always believed in Purgatory; we know that our sins are forgiven by the Blood of the Lamb, by the sacrifice, the perfect sacrifice of Christ, but we know that sin has effects on the sinner and we know that before anyone can be presented before the face of God that he or she has to be spotless. So sometimes, oftentimes, perhaps most of the time at death, there are some unresolved problems, so we believe in Purgatory. We don’t understand much about it, we don’t know if it’s a place or a period of time. Artists have given us visions that are probably not all that accurate, but there is a time of purgation.

We know that from the Scriptures there is the story of Judas Maccabees who was fighting the occupation of the Gentiles and many of his soldiers had died in battle fighting for Israel. As their bodies were prepared for burial, they found charms around their neck, booty captured from the battle was against the law, and also some charms had indicated pagan beliefs. So Judas was concerned that God would reject these soldiers who had fought for Israel, and so he had his men offer sacrifice and prayer that God would forgive all of their sins and take them to himself. So we pray for our beloved dead. As I look around here this morning, I see faces of those who have buried their beloved dead in recent weeks and months during the past year.

Secondly, though, and very important to each one of us, is that we have to be reminded of the purpose of life. The purpose of life is to pass through the doors of death so that we can be with God and live eternally. So in effect, a Christian who truly believes looks forward to death. What? When I baptize a baby, I always say, “May this child live to be 100 and always know God’s love and love of family.” But what happens at 100? We have to die. If we really believe, then we’ll look forward to that moment when we pass through this life to the next life to be with God. The problem is, do we really believe, or are we “somewhat hopeful.” There is a big difference. I remember in Vietnam, most GI's had all sorts of things around their necks…rosary beads, miraculous medals, little Buddha’s, Hindu things, Moslem things. I asked a kid one day, “What are all the things around your neck?” He said, “Man, I ain’t taking no chances. When I get up to heaven, I’m going to say, ‘Hey, pick something, am I all right here?’” I think that’s the reason the Marlins beat the Yankees: they bless themselves more! You notice Rodriguez, Castillo. My Yankees were presumptuous. George Steinbrenner doesn’t need different players; he needs a chaplain. I’ve written George and told him that I’m his, for $20 million over 4 years! But I’m worth it! (That would be a little more pay than you people give me.) Anyway…we’re talking about dying here; you’re not supposed to be laughing.

We look forward to death, but even when we look at Jesus, Jesus wept when his friend Lazarus died; he didn’t laugh. Luke tells us that Jesus himself, as he prepared for his agony, his passion, and for his death, was in such agony and prayed so fervently that his sweat became drops of blood falling to the ground. That’s Jesus’ humanity. There is something in us that wants to hold on to this life, even though this life, sometimes, is not so good.

Accepting death is difficult and challenging and freighting, but we have to do it if we are Christ’s followers. We have to accept the necessity of death. We need to die. There is no way to get to heaven without passing through those doors. And heaven, so Paul tells us in First Corinthians, “Heaven, where eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor even entered into the heart of man what God has prepared for those who love him.” Heaven. Have you ever thought of heaven? I wonder what it’s like? I wonder what we do there? What do we look like? I think I like 1 John 3, where it is written, “We are God’s children now. What later will be has not yet come to light, but when it comes to light, we will be like God, for we shall see God as he is.” I think God’s going to assume us into his divinity, and while we’ll maintain our individuality and our personhood, God will share with us somehow, in his divine ways, himself, the fullness of himself. We will know and see and feel as God knows and sees and feels. Wow. Does that sound better than what we have planned for today? It really does! I don’t know why we call them “the poor souls who have gone before us.” They are blessed if they believe in Christ and died in faith.

This life, with all its goodness, with the beauty of the earth, is not so great. Psalm 90 said, “We live to be seventy or eighty, those who are strong, and most of those years, emptiness and pain.” But there is a lot of truth to that. I think the beginning of adulthood is when you get out of bed one morning and you say, “Life is hard. Life is very hard.” You know, if we took this magic pill I often mention, we’d all live to be a thousand, we’d have a big party today, but we’d all have a heck of a hangover tomorrow. You know do you want to live to be a thousand? I don’t. I want to live forever, but not here, not in this body. Fr. Ray Hannigan, who is 77, went on a pilgrimage with me, and each morning his eye would just water he has to put all sorts of lubricants in his eye. One morning I said, “Ray, how you doing? How’s your eye?” He said, “Oh John, it’s the eye one day, the knee the next. I’m breaking down.” He actually went into more details that I don’t want to share with you. There is a time to say goodbye. It is a time we should look forward to if we really believe.

You know, if we don’t look forward to death, if we see death as all there is, then death is really a disaster. It’s the end of who we are. We don’t believe that for a second. Some really do look forward to this. If you look at some of the art that portrays St. Francis of Assisi, you often see him looking at a skull. He kept a skull with him in his cell to remind himself of what will soon be so that he could live that day to his fullest and his holiest. I personally have trouble with that. I think the previous owner of that skull has some rights. But it worked. I love the story of St. Teresa of Avila. She loved church bells. When she heard the bells she would say, “Oh praise God; I am one hour closer to seeing the face of Jesus Christ.” That’s faith. That’s why we ring the bells. When you hear the bells the first thing you should think is, they’re four minutes early, at least in this church. We’re going to get that fixed. Secondly you’re an hour closer. The bells are intended to say stop, just slow down a second folks. Time is passing and God is God, and you are not. Rearrange your priorities starting this hour and be holy. That’s what bells do. I get complaints of the bells from the community and we’re going to keep ringing those bells, I’m sorry. You obviously were not the complainers.

Even the saints among us, many of them, remind us of the beauty of death and their readiness for it. This past year we had a parishioner named Karen, a young woman. I spoke to her a day or two before she died. She said, “Father, I am ready. I am looking forward to it. I am ready to go.” Another woman named Jean told her family not long before she died that she would not fight death when it came. She was prepared for it and would accept it. Another young man (younger than me is young!), after suffering for 10 years, told me, “Father, I’m ready to go,” with a big smile on his face, and he was in peace. He said, “I’m looking forward to it.” Barbara Kohl lost her mom Mary this past week, she was 94, and every time Barbara would visit mom, her mother would say, “Are you praying for me?” And she would say, “You know I’m praying for you, Mom.” And she would answer, “Well, you’re not praying hard enough, because I’m still here.”

I buried a man named Lefty Marshall on Friday. Lefty was a character. I buried his wife ten years ago. She was a little Hispanic lady named Rose Vigil-Marshall. Lefty was a big tall Texan and wasn’t much into religion at all. The reason I did the funeral was that he had in his last will and testament that I was the only priest he could ever talk to. I could say the reason is I got to know Lefty when I buried his wife, but the truth is we both like to play the horses. That's how I got to know Lefty. It’s not a sin. I’m Catholic I can play the horses. So I buried him. I love this guy. He was real, genuine. He had a heart of gold, but tough on the outside. After the funeral his son, who was a very pious Baptist, a good man, came up to me and said, “You know, Dad suffered a lot.” I had heard everyone say that Lefty lived too long, he suffered too many years. He had strokes, broke his hips, his knees, he really was broken. But he said, “But my dad didn’t live too long. A week before he died, he told me he accepted Christ as his Savior and he was sorry for his sins. He had been a very difficult patient and that last week everyone who came by Lefty’s door would hear, “I’m sorry, please forgive me.” And he said the anger left, he was joyful, and he kept telling everyone, “I’m ready now, now I’m ready.” And I know where Lefty is, or at least I know where he is in route to. There might be a little delay in Lefty’s case I think.

Death, through the eyes of faith, frees us from the suffering of this world; it frees us from the corruption of our bodies that just break down. We are not made to live in this body forever. We need to know that and we need to live each day with death before us. I often say this. I often say this at funerals, but it’s so true. If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, how would you live today? Can you imagine for a minute going home and getting into one of those stupid fights with your spouse? You know those things you fight about…don’t act dumb to me. You wouldn’t, you couldn’t. You would live this day as saints. So live every day as if you would die tomorrow, and you will live as a saint and you will see the face of God.

If you will please bow your heads now and pray. This is a prayer a beautiful prayer and blessing of John Henry Cardinal Newman.

May the Lord strengthen us all the day long, ‘til the shade lengthens and the evening comes and the busy world is hushed and the fever of life is over and our work is done. That in His mercy may He give us a safe lodging and a holy rest and peace at last. Amen.