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Mary
Jane, Patti, Chris, Skip, and Christi, on behalf of each of us gathered here this evening,
and especially our Pastor, Monsignor Andrew Golias, let me offer our
heartfelt condolences at your loss as well as the assurance of our
prayers that God shower you with many blessings—especially that of the
love of family and friends—during these very sad and difficult days.
Yesterday, we did with Bill Warfel’s body what respect for his
Presbyterian heritage requires. After reading scripture, reflecting,
and offering prayers at Moore and Snear Funeral Home in Conshohocken, we
transported Bill’s body to Valley Forge Memorial Gardens. Following
Pastor Dan Stewart’s final commendation, we laid Bill’s body to rest.
That
slow, winding journey from the funeral home to the cemetery forced each
of us to confront what Pastor Dan had just noted at the funeral home:
after seventy years of life, Bill has died and will never return to be present with us. Along the
cortege’s slow and winding route to the cemetery, perhaps some of you entertained
thoughts about life and death or, even, the number of days you may have
left. After all, Bill only began to notice he was not enjoying food and
adult beverages just before Christmas. That was only a short seven
months ago.
Our
gathering and graveside prayers at Valley Forge Memorial Park gave
expression to our great hope in God’s loving care for Bill as well as
for our own longing that what death has now rendered corrupt will be
made incorruptible through God’s almighty power. Then, we had to
let go and say good-bye. “God be with ye!” is what “good bye” means in
Old English. In fact, that’s what I said to Bill the last time I
visited with Bill when he was fully conscious. Watching on from
the distance as Bill’s casket was lowered into the grave, perhaps some
of you wondered silently about what you need to do if you aren’t going
to waste another moment of what’s left of your life on those frivolous
things that ultimately are rendered meaningless, considering the reality
of the grave. They just don’t attach U-Hauls to hearses!
Yes,
Pastor Dan is correct: Bill’s body has died. There can be no denying that fact. But, our faith also teaches us that human life is meant for
much greater glory than that normally accorded a Hercules of ancient
Greece, a Paris Hilton of modern Hollywood, or a Bill Warfel of Yorktown
South. What decays and corrupts
throughout a lifetime and, ultimately, within the earth’s cold, dark,
and destructive embrace, we believe is the fertile ground from which
springs the glory eternal life.
Bill—and each of us—is meant for a much greater glory, one given its
most proper expression when we use this mortal body of ours to
demonstrate love of God and neighbor. When we “do this in memory of
me,” as Jesus taught his disciples, our glory reveals itself in a
glimmer, one of a husband’s love, a step-father’s care and generosity,
and the joy of a “Pop Pop.” But, our glory achieves its fullness only
when we leave our body behind, as Bill has.
The
power of our faith enabled us to walk away from Bill’s grave and to
drive away from Valley Forge Memorial Gardens filled with confidence.
Why confidence? Because we believe that God’s almighty power is capable
of transforming the pain of dying and death into the birth pains opening
the way to the joy of eternal life.
In his
autobiography, The Confessions, St. Augustine relates the story
of his mother’s death. Lying in her bed and knowing full well that soon
she would die, St. Monica mustered up all of the strength she had,
leaned over toward her son, and told him: “Hey, Gus, listen to your
mother. Do whatever you want with this darned body of mine. But, you
had better be sure to remember me at the altar.” (Since you were once a
Latin professor, Monsignor Golias, please pardon my free translation of
Monica’s directive.)
“Forget
about the body,” St. Monica said. “I want to be remembered at the
altar.”
Why was
that? Wasn’t the burial ritual we participated in yesterday sufficient
to heal our pain so that we can return to the routine of daily life,
yes, in a changed reality, but one where we aren’t shackled by the pangs
of grief?
What does this ritual action—for the express purpose of remembering Bill
at this altar—have to do with us?
Perhaps
most significantly, I would suggest, this Memorial Mass reveals the fact
that we aren’t selfish people. Yes, all of us do act selfishly,
and quite likely, very selfishly, at times. But, as we confront the
Death’s cold, dark, and grim reality—and especially the death of someone
like Bill whose glory revealed itself in the glimmer of a husband’s
love, a step-father’s care and generosity, as well as the joy only a “Pop Pop”
can give a young person—we realize that
we are powerless to do anything about the greatest of all evils.
As
Death gradually but surely exerts its powerful grip upon fellow human
beings—people like St. Monica and Bill—regular old human beings—like
Augustine and each of us—are jolted into the deeply disturbing awareness
that we are very needy, that is, we yearn for something much greater
than each of us is individually and all of us are collectively. As
needy people who are sometimes selfish, we congregate this evening to experience
God’s abiding presence with hearts full of hopeful expectancy that God will strengthen us with the
power we need to leave this sacred space and re-enter our daily routines
with memories that will give us the courage to make our lives selfless memorials. Then, those glimmers of glory will also
be remembered one day at the altar.
We
cannot do this of our own power; no, we do it under the power provided
by memory.
Memory
of scripture provides the “steam” making it possible to grasp what God
has accomplished in Christ. “Our citizenship is in heaven,”
St. Paul told the Philippians. “The lord Jesus Christ....will
change our lowly body to conform with his glorified body.” In
another place, St. Paul boldly proclaims: “Don’t grieve like the rest, who have not
hope. We shall always be with the
Lord. Therefore, console one another with these words.” We
also heard these words: “Don’t let
your hearts be troubled,” Jesus said to his disciples. “You have faith
in God; have faith also in me.” Scripture gives us hope that God’s
almighty power is stronger than Death.
Memory
of experience provides the “steam” making it possible to grasp what we
hope God will accomplish through Christ in Bill. No one of us is
perfect, but those moments of pure selfless love, care, and joy Bill
showed, give us who survive Bill hope of his eternal glory.
And,
memory of what scripture teaches and memory of those glimmers of Bill’s glory provide the “steam” making it possible for us to pray that God will
accomplish in each of us what God accomplished through Christ. As we
“do this in memory of me” as Jesus told his disciples, we have hope of
eternal glory.
Don’t
listen to this passively! No, listen attentively and with all of your
hearts because God is speaking directly to the emptiness we feel in the
wake of Bill’s death. Through scripture, God is moving among us to
console us, support us, encourages us, forgive us, and challenge us.
These memories allow God to lead us through Christ Jesus to die to sin
so that we will live for God with all of our energy for the remainder of
our days, however many (or few) those may be. Then, as God consecrates
our memories on this altar, God arouses the joy that displaces fear,
engenders the hope that dissipates despair, and fills our hearts with
gratitude that eases the emptiness caused by loss.
Yes,
Death has taken Bill from us. We are powerless to change that fact.
Yet, we carved a bit of time out of our busy schedules yesterday to shed
tears, to cry, and to share the pain of loss. But, we come
together this evening to remember Bill at the altar, just as St. Monica
directed her son, to place our memories onto the altar so that God will
consecrate them. This ritual action, by which we open ourselves to God
in Word and Sacrament, begins the spiritual transformation that will
enable us to move beyond the fear, despair, and loss we experienced
yesterday to grasp this evening St. Monica’s profound insight: Death can
destroy the body, but Death has no power over the soul whose memories
are consecrated on the altar.
With hearts
filled with gratitude for the gift God has graced us with in the person
and life of Willis (“Bill”) Warfel, Jr., we pray:.
V.
Eternal rest grant unto
Bill, O Lord.
R.
Amen.
V.
May Bill’s
soul and all the souls of the faithful departed rest in peace.
R.
And let perpetual light
shine upon him.
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HOMILY
