Bishop Michael celebrated Mass at the Cathedral of St Brendan, Loughrea for the Deceased Priests and Bishops of the Diocese of Clonfert.
“Let us pray for all our dead this day. Let us pray as our forefathers and fore mothers prayed “go mbeidh leaba i measc na n-aingeal acu” That they may have a bed among the angels and that, come our day, we may have one too. Amen” – Bishop Michael
“There is a season for everything, a time for every occupation under heaven. A time for giving birth, a time for dying.” (Eccl 3) These are thought provoking words from the First Reading we have just heard.
With the passing of time, I find I cannot remember much from my childhood years. However, I do remember visiting my grandmother. Our visits seemed to be always in the evening after the daily chores were over. It was always a treat to be let go. The journey from our house to grannies took about fifteen minutes. Grannie lived with our cousins, so it was a chance to engage with them, find out new things that were happening, explore their place and find ways of entertaining ourselves for the evening. The adults always seemed to be a bit giddy. They would spend the evening talking and talking about all sorts of things. From … who was dead to … what had been on the Late Late Show! Tea would be made and something to eat. We would have cake and biscuits – different cake and different biscuits from what we had at home. Now these visits often went on until well after midnight. Well after my normal bedtime. For some strange reason, I remember the cold of the air as we moved from house to car to go home, especially in wintertime.
Once in the car and the heat was on, I loved to curl up in the back seat. The sound of the engine, the movement of the car. In no time those small eyes of mine were struggling to keep open. I remember watching the moon and the stars whizz by through the car window. I remember how surprised I would be when, almost like a dream, the following morning, I would wake up with my pyjamas on in my own bed wondering when and how I got there. For on arrival back at home, my mother would do what many mothers do. Perhaps, I was as grumpy then as I can be now when disturbed from sleep. My mother would take me in her arms from the back of the car, put on my pyjamas and carefully tuck me into bed. Looking back through the mists of time – I am not sure if there has been any other moment in life that I can remember feeling so comfy, so safe, so cared for, so much loved.
I think it is true that the older you get the more you begin to think of death. Or to be more precise the quicker you try to put it out of your mind. Death remains one of life’s greatest mysteries. It marks the definitive ending of the life we have and the beginning of something we know very little about. Each year, for Christians, the month of November offers us an opportunity to think about death – this mysterious aspect of our human existence. In particular, November is a time to bring to mind those who have died. Today, as a faith community we gather to remember in a special way priests and bishops who down through the years have ministered in this diocese. For us priests, we remember, so to speak, our “comrades in arms” – our brother priests. Our parish priests of old, relatives who were priests. The priests that inspired us to be priests. We remember colleagues we have ministered alongside, or good priest friends that have walked the journey with us in its ups and its downs and who have now gone home to God. We are conscious that as priests, our calling is to leave behind us concrete acts of love rather than offspring. As such we remember in particular those good and kind priests whose lives crossed ours at important and significant moments. As priests, we are always conscious of our weaknesses and our failings. We have a noble calling, but we are also human. We often falter in our response. So, as we remember our brothers, we also pray to God for them, that their failings and faltering in this life may be made right and that they may enjoy that eternal peace and rest that only God himself can give.
As I was thinking about remembering our dead in November and about this Mass today – that scene from my childhood kept coming to mind. Like most people, I often struggle with the reality of death. I tell myself that death is as natural as birth but yet I find myself fearing it. On one hand the physicality of death and the inherent uncertainty of what happens after this life makes me uneasy. On the other hand, I come back over and over again to my faith and to the key message of Christianity that death is not life’s end but everlasting life’s beginning. I truly love that Gospel passage we have just listened to. A passage often read at funerals. Jesus senses that the disciples are worried. Of course, they would be because he had just been talking about his own death. He turns to console them. ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God still, and trust in me.” (Jn 14) Jesus goes on to assure them that “There are many rooms in my Father’s house; if there were not, I should not have told you.” And then he tells them that he is leaving them with a purpose – the purpose of preparing a place for them. Once he has prepared a place for them, he tells them he will return to take them with him so that where he is they may be too.” For some strange reason this Gospel reminds me also of that scene from my childhood.
I like to think that just as mother cradled me in her arms and brought me from the back of the car to the security of my bed so too when it comes to my time to sleep the sleep of death, God will wrap his arms around me and take me from this life to a new and everlasting existence. I think of waking up – warm and safe, perhaps not knowing how I got there, but there nonetheless in the eternal loving presence of God himself.
Today, let us remember and pray for “our comrades in arms” our brother priests and bishops who have gone home to God. Let us remember especially Fr Benny Flanagan who celebrated this Mass with us last year. Let us pray for an increased faith in the goodness of God to bring life out of death, to carry us to our eternal rest. Let us pray for all our dead this day. Let us pray as our forefathers and fore mothers prayed “go mbeidh leaba i measc na n-aingeal acu” That they may have a bed among the angels and that, come our day, we may have one too. Amen.