COVID-19 Funeral Ministry

COVID-19 Funeral Ministry

For the past year and a half, I have been assigned to the three-parish 'Pastorate' of St Michael the Archangel, the Church of the Annunciation, and St Clement Mary Hofbauer, in the Archdiocese of Baltimore, Maryland, USA. Collaborating with a fantastic Pastorate staff, there are four of us who are Franciscan-friar-priests assigned to this ministry; I serve as the Pastor, one is a full-time Parochial Vicar, while the others are part-time and 'semi-retired' Pastoral Associates. These other wonderful priest-colleagues in ministry, ranging in age from 75 to 80, are each "old enough to be my father" and at the age of 57 I am the youngest of the crowd! I am also far younger than a religious sister on who is our Pastoral Associate, and two of our deacons who are both advanced in age. Normally on any given weekend we see about 1,500 parishioners who come through the doors of our three worship sites; we have both English and Spanish speaking parishioners. Usually, the sacramental and liturgical lives of our parishes keep us all busy!

Under normal circumstances and on a regular basis, our work within these faith communities requires us to minister to grieving and bereaving families; we typically have one or two funerals per week within our Pastorate. More recently the number of funerals has increased: we know some have died because of the COVID-19 pandemic, the reasons for the deaths of some others were not made known to us, but most were probably within the usual spectrum of funerals we would normally have. There is no doubt all our funeral these days have been terribly impacted by this awful pandemic. It has been very heartbreaking and difficult for everyone, but it is especially true for the bereaved who have been unable to give proper funerals and burials to those they have loved. I have experienced this very directly, and as a friar-priest and minister in the church, I cannot even begin to describe the emotional and spiritual pain these strange funeral encounters have caused me, and everyone so sadly affected!

In Baltimore, Maryland, on Thursday, March 12th of this year, and just a couple of days prior to the onslaught of changes to our lives forced by the COVID-19 pandemic, I officiated at what would be my last "normal" funeral. It seems strange to me now to characterize this funeral as "normal;" it was celebrated for a five-year-old boy named +Javier who had struggled for most of his life with some rare form of childhood cancer. Funerals offered for children are never "normal," or so I thought!

On the evening before +Javier's funeral Mass at St Michael, and as is customary, his distraught and grieving parents, his young sister, and numerous others were able to gather for many hours in a local funeral home, and it was crowded there. Family and friends were able to keep vigil for +Javier, they prayed together, they showed their respects, and they gathered closely as they shared great care and affection and offered consolation to all who loved +Javier and his family. Among the tears, there were warm, compassionate, and prolonged handshakes, there were many hugs and long sympathetic embraces, and there were many consoling words closely and quietly whispered into the ears of Javier's parents and loved ones. The next day there were lots of people in the church for +Javier's funeral: along with the many mourners, we had the usual musicians, a cantor and choir, our sacristan, a lector and altar servers, and the funeral director came with his usual entourage of support staff. It was a wonderful show of support for +Javier's grieving family, especially for his most bereaved mom and dad. After the Mass, we had a traditional and solemn funeral procession to the nearby cemetery; many cars followed in the motorcade behind the hearse as it somberly took Javier's mortal remains to his final resting place. And there in the cemetery, and as I recited the final prayers, those gathered huddled together and clutched each other tightly as together they shared the intensity of their grief. This was a "normal" funeral.

Almost overnight, the "normalcy" of funerals, and church services in general, changed for all of us. Because of the COVID-19 pandemic, and just a couple of days after +Javier's funeral, our state and local governments issued strict and unprecedented health guidelines; phrases like "social-distancing," "stay at home," and "shelter in place," concepts especially alien to church people, suddenly became "the norm." Many were already suggesting the use of facial masks, and it was mandated by the government that "social gatherings" be limited to less than ten people. In the blink of an eye, we were no longer able to have "normal" funerals as I had celebrated for +Javier just a few days earlier.

Yet phone calls from grieving families, and from the funeral directors who serve them did not stop, and the volume of calls even seemed to increase. We were going to have a lot of funerals. Very early in this crisis I consulted with the other friar-priests, the religious sister and the deacons with whom I work, and we decided that it was best for just about everyone to observe the "shelter-in-place" guidance as much as possible. Far more than for me personally, their senior ages, and each of their unique health issues would possibly put them at a greater risk for contracting the dreadful virus. They really needed to "shelter in place" so I volunteered to cover all funerals within the Pastorate for as long as necessary.

As I was starting to become accustomed to the new COVID-19 era way of conducting funerals, I began to learn that some of my own friends and acquaintances had also been infected. Most of them survived, but a few did not. And everyone had to deal with new and awkward funeral restrictions. This affected everyone: it made no difference if someone died because of complications due to COVID-19 or if they had passed-away from completely natural and "ordinary" causes. Now, no one would be able to receive the proper funeral respects usually afforded to the dead. These realities have heavily impacted my own emotions as I have proceeded to celebrate quite a few "COVID-19 season" funerals!

How strange it is to visit nearly completely empty funeral homes where the few who gather are required to maintain "social distances," and are not allowed to shake hands and/or to give sympathetic hugs to those who mourn. How strange it is when there are no "in person" opportunities to console grieving children, grandchildren, other family members, loved ones, and friends of the deceased. How strange it is to be a part of "live-streamed" funerals knowing most who are "attending" are those watching from at great distances where they need to remain "safe." How strange it is for me, and even outside of my wildest imaginations, to wear face masks while praying at grave sides! How strange it is when only a few can be present for those graveside prayers, and where sadly we need to say these orations practically shouted from afar.

But I live in hope! When life returns to some semblance of normalcy, we will be able to honor these beloved dead with memorial Masses in our churches. When that day comes, and as not too long ago I had done for +Javier and his family, we will be able to show these dearly departed the "normal" and proper respects they rightfully deserve, and for which their families and friends surely long.

In your kindness, and in these COVID-19 days, please pray for the repose of our recently deceased sisters and brothers +Javier (age 5), +Constance (age 94), +Marion (age 92), +Jose "Pepe" (age 50), +Elmer (age 88), +Margaret Mary (age 99), +Freddy (age 47), +Daniel (age 85), +Santo (age 92), +Lawrence (age 79), +Maria (age 55), +Patricia (age 74), +Salvatore (age 85), +Josephine (age 93), and +Antoinette (age 101). Please pray also for the consolation of their more than usually distraught families during these difficult days!

Friar Timothy

Easter Sunday 2020 COVID-19

My Sisters and Brothers:

Today we celebrate Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of the Lord!  On this day we usually gather in our parish churches and we celebrate this day of our salvation with great excitement and joy!  Today we typically dress in our most “Sunday-best” Easter attire and we meet others with warm embraces and greetings of happiness.  On Easter Sunday our churches are always lavishly decorated with vibrant flowers and colorful banners.  As we worship together on this day, we sing triumphant hymns of praise!  We burn incense and use their plumes of mysterious smoke in order to symbolically lift our community’s prayers to heaven!  Normally, and with enthusiasm and jubilant passion, we sing together the EASTER ALLELUIA!  In our homes, families and friends come together for celebrations, and we gather around our Easter tables for traditional and festive meals.  While we share lots of food, we also enjoy Easter sweets, and tons of chocolate!  

This Easter and unfortunately, we instead find ourselves in the middle of this strange coronavirus crisis.  Most of what we know to be “normal” in our lives has been put on hold.  Our celebration on this Easter Sunday, this most solemn day of our liturgical year, has taken on completely different forms.  Yet perhaps, at least from a spiritual growth perspective at this moment in our lives, we may be able to contemplate more deeply the experience of the disciples on Easter morning.

According to the Gospel of John proclaimed in today’s Mass, “Mary of Magdala went to the tomb early in the morning, while it was still dark, and she saw the stone removed from the tomb.”   Then, as recorded in the Gospel of Matthew, an angel proclaimed to her: “Do not be afraid! I know that you are seeking Jesus the crucified; he is not here, for he has been raised just as he said; come and see the place where he lay” (Matthew 28:6).  All the Gospels tell us that Mary, and the other women who were with her, then ran to report this news to Simon Peter, to “the other disciple whom Jesus loved,” and to the other disciples.  With these reports of the empty tomb, the disciples began to realize Jesus had likely risen from the dead!  But John’s Gospel also tells us: “they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead” (John 20:9). 

It may be difficult for us to completely realize the depths of emotions experienced by Mary Magdala and the others when they discovered the empty tomb.  On the one hand, they had heard the preaching of Jesus about the Resurrection from the dead and many times they had considered Scriptures that promised what he taught.  They wanted to believe!  On the other hand, the tomb was empty, and it was possible the body had been stolen and their hopes would come to a complete end.  At that precise moment, there might have been a genuine collision between the promises and dreams of their faith, and the very stark reality of human disillusionment easily brought on by fears, doubts, and faithlessness.  This might be the type of “collision” many of us are feeling on this Easter Sunday as we are forced to “stay home,” at a time when our normal celebratory practices are put on hold, and when we find ourselves living with fears about what will happen next, and what tomorrow will bring.   But my friends, at this moment let’s not forget we are EASTER PEOPLE!  In fact, those disciples who discovered the empty tomb early on Easter morning used the experience as their reason to have faith.  What mattered for them at that moment was not precise teachings they had previously heard about the resurrection from the dead.  Instead, what was vital to their faith was in fact the very absence of Jesus’s body in the tomb.  Even though the tomb was empty, and they might have been caught between faith and fear, they chose a higher power that promised resurrection and new life.  They firmly believed Jesus had risen “just as he had said he would.”

On this Easter Sunday 2020, even thought our world seems to have been turned upside-down, let’s have the same confidence and hope as those disciples did very early on that first Easter.  The tomb is empty, but we believe Jesus has risen as he said would.  With such faith, the somberness of our Lenten coronavirus journey promises to be vanquished, and again New Life is promised to all of us.  My friends, let’s encourage each other with the message of our Easter faith, perhaps now and today more than ever! 

                                                                                                  
Praise God!  Friar Timothy

Lights on Christmas Trees, Aching Teeth, and a Young Man Named "Connor."

The Eve of the Feast of St. Nicholas

This evening, I went to Walmart to return a defective “pre-lighted” Christmas tree (which I purchased only yesterday).  When I had attempted to assemble it, I discovered about half of the tree’s lights didn’t work, which as you might imagine incredibly annoyed and frustrated me! 

Then, to my great disappointment, and when I returned the defective tree to the Walmart, I learned they didn’t have a comparable tree in stock to replace it (I even asked them to sell me the “floor model” as a replacement, but the store manager said that wasn’t allowable).  I walked out of the store feeling annoyed and defeated.  

Demoralized and disappointed, and as I walked back to my car, I happened to pass a young man who was walking through the parking lot, and who was literally crying “out loud.”  It was extremely obvious to me that he was in a state of great distress.  And it greatly disturbed me! 

At first, I simply walked right past him and headed toward my car.  Then, my conscience getting the best of me, I felt this great desire to go back and ask him if he was “okay.” At that point, I noticed he was holding in his hand one of those cardboard signs that said something like “Homeless and hungry, please help me.” 

Then, for a brief few moments, and because I invited him to do so, we sat together on a bench outside of the Walmart and we chatted together.

He told me he was crying because, for some reason, his teeth were causing him tremendous, unending, and excruciating pain.  He told me he had no one to help him, and that because of the “bad blood” he has had with family and former friends, he’s all alone and doesn’t know where to turn next, or where to get help.  He seemed at his “whits end.” 

I asked him how old he was and he told me he was twenty-four years old.

He asked me if I could “help” him, but I told him I didn’t have a lot of money, and/but against my better judgement, I gave him a few dollars.

Then I put my arm around his shoulder, and I looked him in the eye, and said “I don’t know you, or what your 'issues' are, but I promise you there is light at the end of the tunnel . . . please, my brother, don’t give up hope . . .  and please know that God loves you, and that many people out there want to help you, if only they could.”

I think he was actually very grateful for that very brief moment of “humanity” we shared together.  And then, before he stood and departed from me, he very genuinely thanked me very profusely.  And then I sadly watched as he moved away and disappeared back into the chaos of the Christmas parking lot rush. 

Suddenly, and from an existential perspective, my annoyance about the defective Christmas tree I had just returned to the Walmart seemed totally insignificant. 

Then, when I returned to my car and started to head out of the Walmart parking lot, I found myself crying like a baby . . .

I hope and pray he is okay . . .

My friends, please pray for Conner.

And so in the spirit of the Season, I feel compelled to share this encounter with you!

Happy Holidays!

Timothy

 
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"Riches and Things" –the Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time–Year B

My Sisters and Brothers: 

The author of today’s first reading understood that “riches were nothing in comparison to God’s wisdom and prudence” (see Wisdom 7:7-11). In contrast, the “rich young man” in today’s Gospel was unable to give up his possessions and follow Jesus. Although he claimed a life-time of complete obedience to God’s Commandments, he learned even more was demanded of him! Therefore Jesus said to him: “You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” Unable to do as he had been challenged, the Gospel tells us the young man’s “face fell, and he went away sad, for he had many possessions” (see Mark 10:21-22). Perhaps these accounts can motivate us to reflect upon our own “riches,” and the “things” in our own lives for which we might place more worth than God and/or his people. 

Do these passages also give us reason to have negative attitudes towards, and to judge those “rich people” who seem to value their wealth more than they do spiritual things? I think not! Or instead, might they merely challenge us (weather we are rich or poor) to reflect upon those “things,” even non-material “things,” we might be tempted to value more than the obligations and responsibilities of our faith? And is it possible they can also inspire us to self-reflect on the values we place on “things,” and how they might therefore and in any way “control” us? 

Isn’t it true all of us probably have “needs” that aren’t really “needs” at all? While I don’t believe our God is offended when we enjoy some of the simple “pleasures of life” (indeed, it may seem such things may just keep us sane!), we may wish to reflect upon those more serious “things” which can become major obstacles to healthy, positive, and faith-filled lives. We may need to ask ourselves if there are “things” in our lives upon which we place great importance, but for which we really shouldn’t. And then we should ask ourselves if these “things” therefore somehow serve to hinder our relationships with God, and with other people within our faith community? Of course each one of us must evaluate those “things” in our lives that occupy the bulk of our attention. And if we determine these “things” (whether great or small) are more important than our relationships with God and others, then our faith tells us today we must get rid of them in order to follow the Lord. 

We may not have so many riches like the young man in the Gospel, but there may be “things” in our lives that prevent us from serving the Lord with our whole heart, mind and soul. Jesus tells us today to reject them in order to serve him completely. And in this way we too will understand there’s “nothing in comparison to God’s wisdom and prudence.” My friends, above all let’s have a desire for the “things of God,” and may we always and enthusiastically understand that by comparison the “riches” and the “things of this world,” count for very little, and/or perhaps for nothing at all! 

Praise God!   Friar Timothy

"Partnerships of Life and Love" –the Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time–Year B

My Sisters and Brothers:

In today’s Gospel the Pharisees questioned Jesus about marriage.  They asked: “Is it lawful for a husband to divorce his wife?” And in response, Jesus offered what many may believe to have been a very strict teaching (see Mark 10:2-16).  It may even be difficult for us to understand this teaching, especially in our world today as it’s not uncommon to have family members and friends who’ve been married, and then divorced, and then remarried.  This may even be your own personal reality.  And so it must be true that many such people are good and holy, and even though they’ve experienced the pain and difficulties of broken relationships, they may have at last managed to find genuine and committed partnerships of life and love with their current spouses.  And so, why would anyone want to deny happiness to others?  Of course the church must uphold the dignity and indissolubility of authentic marriage bonds, but in our own day it may not be entirely wise to place inordinate emphasis on these seemingly harsh words about divorce (if in fact Jesus’ words were even meant to be “harsh”)!  Rather, wouldn’t it be better for us to focus on Jesus’ affirmation of the great dignity of marriages that have been successful, and not so much on condemning those that haven’t?

About marriage, church law states: “The matrimonial covenant, by which a man and a woman establish between themselves a partnership of the whole of life and which is ordered by its nature to the good of the spouses and the procreation and education of offspring, has been raised by Christ the Lord to the dignity of a sacrament between the baptized” (see Can. 1055 §1).  These wonderfully lofty words seem to sum-it-all-up!  But obviously I’m not married, and I’m an “outsider” when it comes to understanding all of the complexities of marriage.  But even so, like everyone else, I too can find encouragement when aware of the successes of those who marriages are strong.  And so, as I reflect on the words of Jesus, and the church’s teaching, it’s easy for me to understand how married couples have a special “sacramental” calling allowing them to model the type of love Jesus has for the community of the faithful, “the church!”

Can’t we say that by their fidelity to one another, spouses model for us how Jesus himself never abandons those who are faithful?  Don’t they show us how Jesus does not leave us when things get difficult?  Isn’t it true they show us how Jesus always remains faithful to us?  Is there no doubt they show us how Jesus doesn’t exchange his love for us for some other type of love?  Don’t they show us how Jesus enables us to be life-giving to others?  Isn’t it true they show us how Jesus loves us totally and completely!  And, all of this being said, isn’t it true most spouses who’ve been successful “partners of the whole of life” say it’s “a lot of work?”  But isn’t this actually the point when contemplating how such marriages model Jesus’ love for all of us (a type of love that even took him to the sacrifice of the cross)?  I think so!

And so, without judging or being “harsh,” let’s always pray with charity and mercy for those who have found themselves in difficult marriages.  But let’s be glad we have a “strict teaching” regarding the never-ending sanctity of love, especially as it’s found between “sacramentally” married spouses!  And so let’s rejoice in those successful marriages always understood as partnerships of life and love!  Let’s affirm those marriages where mutual commitment and fidelity has left no room for selfishness!  Let’s stand in awe of those marriages where spouses have great respect for each other’s uniqueness, individuality, and differences, but who still labor for “the good of each other!”  Let’s delight in those marriages where equality and mutual respect abound!  Let’s reverence those married couples who have brought children into the world, and who have raised and educated their families according to the way of the Gospel!  Let’s be grateful to those wives and husbands who’ve always remained faithful to the dignity of their sacramental bonds!  And may marriages that genuinely reflect Jesus’ love for the community of the faithful, “the church,” always bring joy to those who are married, and also to those who observe even from the “outside!”

And let’s never forget to thank, encourage, and champion those we love who’ve embraced the sacramental vocation of Christian marriage!  We’re so very grateful to you!    
                                                                                     
Praise God!  Friar Timothy

“'All Others' Means 'All Others!'”–the Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time–Year B

By Danish artist Carl Heinrich Bloch, "Suffer the Little Children"

My Sisters and Brothers:

Today’s Gospel reading is one of my favorites (see Mark 9:30-37).  In it we hear Jesus proclaim the following words: “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.”  And then, to demonstrate what he had said, Jesus took a small child into his arms and he then said the following: “Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but the One who sent me.”  We’ve all seen beautiful illustrations depicting this event; it’s something we might regularly encounter depicted in stained-glass windows.  Jesus is usually surrounded by small children, some of whom are sitting on his lap and others around whom Jesus places his warm embrace.  We love this image because it makes us feel good, and it assures us that Jesus loves the little children!  But if we focus only on the sweetness of that picture of Jesus with all those innocent children, then we risk really missing the point of the lesson his words were meant to teach.

We need to remember that at the time of Jesus any sense of a “legal status within society” for children was essentially non-existent.   Although there’s no doubt they were typically loved and cherished by their parents, children were essentially without societal “rights” and/or “privileges,” as we might expect and demand in our own time.  Within that very patriarchal society, and as with wives, livestock, land, and other material possessions, children were more-or-less considered to be “the property” of their fathers.   They were definitely “to be seen, and not to be heard.”  There was no need to acknowledge them and/or to show them any kind of deference or respect.  This would have been demonstrated and “channeled” only through whatever deference or respect was shown to their fathers by others.  In other words: Children weren’t given “the time of day” by people outside their immediate families.  The down-side to this was there was no communal sense of any need for the “protection of children.”  Everyone assumed this to be completely under the control of their fathers.  And so, if a child was maltreated within a family, there was essentially no way for that negative situation to be alleviated.  Unfortunately, there were no “Child Protective Services” at work during the time Jesus preached and worked miracles in those cities and towns of Galilee.

Jesus proclaimed: “Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but the One who sent me!” When he said this, his audience was undoubtedly astounded!  Because he focused on children as his subject in that teaching moment, they likely would have completely understood the very dramatic statement he in fact had made.  And so, the real message of Jesus was the following: “In my name, if you show respect and affirm the dignity of the voiceless, the poor, the marginalized, the outcasts, and anyone without stature in society, then you will surely receive not just me but the Father in heaven who sent me!”

In our own time, all people have rights, privileges, and legal statuses within our society (and we might say this is especially true of children as we desire to give them voice in times of difficulties, and we wish to always protect them from any possibility of abuse and/or harm).  But we really need to try to understand the contrary situation at the time of Jesus.  In those days, those who were among the many types of “outcasts” were summarily “dismissed,” and therefore they were thought to be unworthy of attention and respect.  Certainly, they were not worthy of receiving the love of the Father in Heaven.  And Jesus clearly taught otherwise!

And so, we must ask: “Who are those considered to be the marginalized and the pariahs in our own time?”  Jesus teaches us today that such people are always, and with love, to be received by the “the One who sent him.”  These are the ones for whom Jesus wants us to be “servants.”  That means we are to be “servants” of those who are “different than us,” and of those whom we might have concluded are “sinners” and “unworthy of our attention.”   This is a very “tall order” but one for which we are obligated if we wish to consider ourselves to be disciples of the Lord Jesus!

My friends, let’s encourage and admonish each other with this message!  And may we always treat all others with respect and dignity.  And “all others” means “all others!”

Praise God!  Friar Timothy

Homily for My Mom, +Carolyn Marie Winterling Dore

Homily for the Funeral of My Mom, +Carolyn Marie Winterling Dore

September 17, 2018

Friar Timothy P. Dore, OFM Conv.

(Readings: Wisdom 3:1-6, 9, Romans 8:31b-35, 37-39, and Matthew 5: 1-12a)

Before I say anything, I want to thank Bishop Madden for being present today for my mom’s funeral.  Bishop Madden: Thank you so much!  My family and I are very grateful.  I also want to thank Friar Michael Heine, the Vicar Provincial of the Our Lady of the Angels Province.  He’s here to represent the friars of the Province, and our Minister Provincial, Friar James McCurry, who expressed his regrets about not being able to be here.  I’m also thankful to the friar-priests and the friar-brothers of my Franciscan community who are here.  And for the presence the other priests who are here as well.  I’d like to thank Fr. Patrick Carrion, the Pastor of Our Lady of Good Counsel.  Patrick: Thank you for your warm welcome and hospitality; it’s very much appreciated.

I also wish to thank the religious sisters who are here, particularly the Missionaries of Charity, the Sisters Servants of Mary Immaculate from St. Joseph’s Nursing Home, Sr. Carol Woods, a member of the Franciscan Missionary Sisters of Assisi and Sr. Susan Engel, a member of the Mission Helpers of the Sacred Heart.

Of course, my family is very grateful for the presence here of the members of our extended family, and all our dear friends.

My mom would be very pleased to know all of you have come here to pray with us at this difficult moment.

And now, I’d like to ask all the nurses present here today, and I know there are many of you, to please stand [pause].  As you know, my mom was very proud of her long nursing career, and my brother and sisters and I always believed we were very fortunate to have a Registered Nurse for a mother!   And so, now honoring her memory and the career she loved, I’d like to say a special thank you to all these nurses.  Your lives of service to those in need are an inspiration to all of us!  Thank you so much!

As you know, my mom suffered for a long time with the debilitating effects of Alzheimer’s disease.  Several years ago, and at first, my mom struggled with various levels of dementia and she and my dad tried to continue living their normal lives together and in retirement in Ocean City.  But after things became most difficult for them in the home, it became necessary for my mom to enter St. Joseph’s Nursing Home, where she lived for the past two and a half years.

Of course, my mom didn’t want to enter nursing home care.  Who would?  At first, she was very resistant to her new reality of life at St. Joe’s.  She begged my father and all of us to take her home, but of course that wasn’t possible.

Eventually my mom adjusted to life there, and she coped best by identifying herself by what she was: A Dedicated Nurse!  In fact, there’s no doubt in that health care environment my mom found a place where she was very much “at home.”  And so, she would often inform us she had taken on “a job” as a nurse there.  The sisters and the staff at St. Joe’s were more than happy to accommodate my mom’s nursing impulse.  With great deference, they began to call her “Nurse Carolyn,” and they very kindly allowed her to give “advice” about this or that nursing question.  And all that provided her with a sense of purpose; it also dignified her by affirming her indelible nurse’s identity.  We’ll always be grateful to St. Joe’s for allowing my mom “to work” there!  It gave my mom a tremendous amount of consolation and peace as she battled the brutal and unrelenting assault of Alzheimer’s.

As time went on, it was very difficult for my dad, for me and for my other family members to watch as my mom’s health steadily declined.  The past few months were particularly difficult as she gradually lost her ability to feed herself, to walk, and even to speak coherently.  We all became accustomed to my mom’s use of the word “beads,” interjected into her sentences, as she labored to express her thoughts.  This was very painful for all of us to experience, and there’s no doubt it was most frustrating for my mom.

With all of this in mind, I’d like to share with you two remarkable and related events I recently experienced with my mom.

Three months ago, my mom was still capable of walking the halls at St. Joe’s, however at that point she had more-or-less lost her ability to express her thoughts clearly.  On one of my visits during that time, we spent some time walking laps around the halls there.  I spoke to her about my work, about our family members, and about how good it was for me to spend that time with her.  Then, all the sudden she stopped walking, and she turned and looked me in the eye and she said to me in the clearest and most coherent voice possible: “Are you going to be okay?”  Amazed by the clarity of her question, I responded: “Yes, mom, all will be well!”

And then, for the past month or so, and other than an occasional and kind of mumbled “yes” or “no” in response to questions, my mom didn’t speak very much at all. Often, the sense of defeat was very evident on her face as she unsuccessfully tried to utter words and sentences.  It was heartbreaking to watch.

One evening last week, as my mom lay sleeping and I sat at her bedside, Nurse Christine came in the room to check on her.  She was one of my mom’s favorite nurses, and I know Christine loved my mom as well.  As I sat there, she checked my mom’s temperature, adjusted her pillows, and tried to make her more comfortable.  For a few moments, we spoke very softly and quietly about my mom’s sickness, and about how awful Alzheimer’s is.  I told Christine about how three months earlier my mom had, in a moment of clarity and so surprisingly, asked me if I “was going to be okay.”  I told her how I had assured my mom that “all would be well!”  Christine thanked me for sharing the story and she encouraged me “to hold on to the memory.”  She said she had heard similar stories from others during her years of nursing work.

Then, the very moment Christine left the room, and much to my utter surprise, my mom opened her eyes, lifted her head off the pillow a bit, and then she looked me straight in the eye again, and she asked me with total clarity and command of her voice: “Are you sure?”  I answered: “Yes mom, I’m okay and all will be well.”  She then grinned from ear to ear, and resting her head again on the pillow, closed her eyes and went back to sleep.  Apparently, she had been listening to the conversation Christine and I had been having, and she wanted to "weigh-in" on what we had discussed!  Utterly amazed, and before leaving that evening, I was sure to share the follow-up story with a very grateful Christine!

Those two remarkable moments when my mom spoke to me so clearly proved to me, even as she suffered in the throes of those dreadful effects of Alzheimer’s, that her motherly concern and care for me remained strong.  And so, I will always be grateful to God she was miraculously and so poignantly still able to communicate some of her thoughts to me!

As I contemplate those two incredible moments now, I’m compelled to believe my mom’s words not only demonstrated her love for me, they also came from someone who was dedicated to nursing and who cared greatly for others.  And not only that, I’m sure my mom’s dedication to nursing was motivated by her strong Christian faith, one that placed great value on service to others, especially to those who were the neediest.  As a nurse, and I’m sure the other nurses here today have all done the same, my mom worked tirelessly as she sought to give hope to those who were suffering.  And that’s what she was all about!  And so, I have no doubt that in the many years my mom served as an R.N., she would often encourage her patients with statements like “You’re going to be okay!” and “I’m sure all will be well!”  These sentiments were certainly echoed in the very brief conversations we recently and so wondrously had, as we spoke nearly the same words to each other.

And that brings us to this moment.

Today when this Funeral Mass began, members of our family, represented by my nieces and nephews, placed this white cloth over my mom’s casket.  It’s meant to remind us of the day she was baptized, and of the baptismal gown she wore on that day.  This is the garment of Christ, and it’s what we all hope to be wearing when we enter heavenly glory!  I know that’s what my mom hoped for all her life.  And this is because a little more than eighty years ago, and not long after she was born, my mom’s parents Joseph and Marie gave her the Christian faith.  I like to think that what we’ve done today is a parallel to what my mom’s parents did when they brought their baby Carolyn into this same church back then, and as they celebrated her baptism.  I’m sure there was a lot of joy on that day; they probably even went back to their house on Woodall Street here in Locust Point and they celebrated with a festive party!  Although perhaps contrarily saddened today, we’ve brought her to the other bookend, that’s to say, “the opposite side of the same story.”  As her family brought her to this church on the day of her baptism, we her family now bring her to church to celebrate her life, her faith, and the fulfillment of the promises made to her and for her by her parents on that day!

And so, as people of faith we can also take comfort in the words from the Scriptures we’ve heard during my mom’s funeral today.

The first reading from the Book of Wisdom proclaimed to us: “The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them . . . they seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction . . . but they are in peace” (see Wisdom 3:1-3).  My mom is still very much alive.  She is also now freed from the chains of Alzheimer’s and all of the affliction it caused her and all of us!  Therefore “she’s okay!” and we can be sure “all is well!”

In the second reading from the Letter to the Romans, St. Paul says: “What will separate us from the love of Christ?  Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword?  No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us.  For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (see Romans 8:35, 37-39).  And so we can be sure that nothing has been able to separate my mom from God’s eternal loving embrace: not sickness, not Alzheimer’s, not trials, not tribulations!  Therefore “she’s okay!” and we can be sure “all is well!”

And in the Gospel reading from the Sermon on the Mount we heard those beautiful words of Jesus when he proclaimed the “Beatitudes” (see Matthew 5:1-12a).  As a nurse, as my dad’s wife, as our mother, as a grandmother, as a sister and an aunt, as a friend and a neighbor, I’m completely certain my mom lived these admonitions well.  By the way she lived her life, and as she spent her career as a care-giver, Nurse Carolyn surely knew what it meant to be poor in spirit, meek, merciful, a peacemaker, and there’s no doubt she was a person who had a hunger and a thirst for holiness and righteousness.  Therefore, Mom we know “you’re okay!” and we’re sure that now for you “all is well!”

Mom: Thanks for being such wonderful model of faith to all of us. We your family members are also proud of your great nursing career!  Indeed, how fortunate we were to have YOU as our mother!  And so, Nurse Carolyn: Thanks for showing us by your example that we too as Christians are called to be people who place ourselves in service to God by the way we serve others.  Mom: Your life of service to those in need will always be an inspiration to us!  And we will always be eternally grateful to you!  We love you!

Amen.