MY
I've served more funerals in the last couple months than I have in the last couple years. I guess death is on my mind. It's hard to process internal grief and the feelings of loss we experience when someone we know and love dies. I never realized I would struggle with watching grief.
The other day I was serving a funeral of an elderly man, who lived a long, full life, and was beloved by his children, grandchildren, and the entire extended family. There were dozens and dozens of family members at the funeral, Catholics and Non-Catholics alike, and I could scarcely find a dry eye in the building. I felt strangely disconnected. As an Altar server, I worked with the priests and funeral directors to keep the funeral ceremony flowing smoothly, so I didn't have an opportunity to offer condolences to the family. While the eulogy was being said and heartfelt memories of a good and Godly man were being recounted, I was focused on getting the charcoals lit for the final commendation. While the family was sharing grief and consolation with each other at the reception, I wolfed down a small plate before I had to run off and do communion calls. Some time before that, I served the opposite sort of funeral. The man who passed was clearly a very faithful man, but I never met him. His wife seemed very shaken up. The scattering of family members weren't even close to churchgoing. They seemed empty. Sad. Lost. Again, I never even saw the body, never met the family, and was too occupied to really process what was happening. It's hard to put the feelings into words - almost as though I wanted to be sad, I felt all the sadness around me, and I saw grieving, hurting people, but there was nothing I could do about it except prevent any liturgical hiccups from being distracting. I don't think I wrapped my head around the sheer number of funerals a priest attends when I first applied for seminary. It's a symptom of the superhuman calling of the priesthood. God knows the pain of the grieving. For those who are open to His love, he is with them and touching their hearts. He is compassionate. As I attend funerals like these, I'm overwhelmed by the limitations of my humanity. As a human being, I feel disconnected from these people - the literal opposite of feeling compassion. This is a common problem... a fear, even, that many seminarians bring up to their formators. What do I do or even say at a funeral? How on earth am I supposed to preach to the grieving one day? The answer that every priest gives is "the grace of ordination." God provides the grace, and through ordination, makes the priest a vessel for God's compassion. My pastor passed away a few days ago. He's been my pastor for most of my life - since my first communion, from when I first started serving until now, several years into seminary. Returning to my home parish will not be the same without him. While I still have some grief of my own to process, the thing that touched my heart the most was how packed the church was. The main church was full and spilling out, almost filling the hall, even. He touched a lot of lives over fifty years as a priest. I can barely imagine being a priest, let alone being a priest for fifty years... but his life and the lives of the priests around me are testaments of the grace of God, turning ordinary men into instruments of God's supernatural compassion.
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July 2023
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