Fr James A. Wallace, C.Ss.R. describes the wonderful comfort and hope that he and his family experienced in the prayers and liturgies of the church following the death of his mother.
It has been over a year since my mother died. On a Saturday afternoon my brother called to say she was gone. The lung cancer that had begun more than a year and a half earlier had gradually changed her from a person who loved being on the go to one whose activities were reduced, and whose constant companion was a portable oxygen cylinder. In her final months she rarely left her quarters in my brother’s home.
My mother spent most of her last days in a hospital bed. By day she was surrounded by her family and an angelic caretaker named Diane, with frequent visits by the hospice staff; through the night one of her sons or daughters-in-law was nearby. She was able to say goodbye to all those she loved. I remember especially how strong her embrace was until the end. She taught us to face death with faith. And when she died shortly after midday on a rainy Saturday at the end of May, her family gathered together.
During the next few days, I was again reminded of the great comfort that the prayers and rituals of the Catholic Church can bring at the time of a loved one’s death. The Order of Christian Funerals provides various rites to console the faithful who are mourning the death of a loved one. These rites can bring much comfort, peace and healing to those who are grieving. In the words of the introduction to the Rite of Christian Funerals, “In the face of death, the Church confidently proclaims that God has created each person for eternal life and that Jesus, the Son of God, by his death and resurrection, has brokens the chains of sin and death that bound humanity.”
I will reflect on four moments: the time soon after death, the vigil the night before the funeral, the funeral eucharistic liturgy, and the final committal at the graveside. The experience of these moments will differ from person to person, but I would like to offer a brief reflection on what they meant to me and to my family at the time of my mother’s death.
The time soon after death
Shortly after my mother’s death, we gathered around her body in her bedroom. First, we cried. Tears of loss are themselves healing. After a time, I turned to the Order of Christian Funerals, which offers a brief rite for this time. We heard the words: “In this moment of sorrow the Lord is in our midst and consoles us with his wsord: Blessed are the sorrowful; they shall be comforted.” A brief reading from one of the gospels followed, allowing us to hear Jesus’ words address our loss: “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live” (Jn 11:25). We prayed the Our Father together, followed by concluding prayers in which we asked God “to hear our prayers for your servant Colette, whom you have summoned out of this world.” We also asked God to grant her “a place of refreshment, light, and peace.”
As part of the blessing, those who wished were invited to sign my mother’s forehead with the sign of the cross as we prayed “Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord. And let perpetual light shine upon her.” We found particular conform in making the sign of the cross on my mother’s forehead, and this touch brought a sense of peace to those who did so.
The soothing power of the rite touched all of us. Three of my nephews, one 13-year-old and two 10-year-olds, were there, and I like to think this experience might help them at some future date to face death without fear. We had a sense of coming together as a family whose faith was being strengthened by the words of Jesus. We were not facing this moment of loss with just our own resources as individuals or even as a famly; we turned to the One whose own death was our hope for eternal life.
The Order of Christian Funerals provides prayers to be said not only at the time of death but also when first gathering in the presence of the body after it has been prepared, such as when the family first gathers at the funeral parlour. During these first moments of facing the loss of a loved one, praying together helps ease the immediate wound.
The vigil service
The vigil is the main rite celebrated by the Christian community before the funeral liturgy, and usually takes place in the funeral home or the home of the deceased the evening before the funeral. The experience of the vigil is that the believing community “keeps watch with the family in prayer to the God of mercy and finds strength in Christ’s presence.” This rite provides the opportunity to listen to the Word of God in one or more Scripture readings and to pray in words that remind us of Christ’s resurrection and its promise to us and to the one who has died. The vigil helps those in mourning to bridge the gap between the death of their loved one and the time of the funeral liturgy.
For us, this rite brought together family and dear friends, colleagues from work, former neighbours, and parishioners who hadn’t even known my mother. Our family was fortunate to have such strong support at this time, and we were reminded of the words of Jesus: “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them (Mt 18:20). The Invitation to Prayer that begins the vigil calls us to be aware of our strong bonds of love and to hope: “Brothers and sisters, we believe that all ties of friendship and affection that knit us as one throughout our lives do not unravel with death. Confident that God always remembers the good we have done and forgives our sins, let us pray, asking God to gather Colette to himself.”
The vigil service allows us to hear that because of Christ, we have our citizenship in heaven where we will all find a dwelling not made with hands, but an eternal place of rest.
The funeral liturgy
The funeral liturgy is the heart of the Christian celebration of death; it can be either a funeral Mass or a funeral liturgy outside of Mass. For my family, the funeral Mass was a most healing occasion.
Family members helped place the white pall over the coffin, a reminder of Mom’s baptism when she was first claimed by the Spirit as God’s daughter. Then her prayer book along with the crucifix that had hung on her bedroom wall for more than 50 years was placed on her coffin.
The readings spoke to us of the worthy wife, whose value is far beyond pearls, for she is clothed with strength and dignity (see Prv 31); of the sufferings of the present, which are nothing compared to the glory of God to be revealed (see Rom. 8); and of Jesus’ promise: “I (will) prepare a place for you…so that where I am you also may be” (Jn 14). The beauty of the Word of God is never more apparent than at the time of death when it courageously proclaims the power of God that has broken the bonds of death.
Equally comforting were the words of the hymns: “We shall rise again,” proclaiming the God who “will raise you up on eagle’s wings, bear you on the breath of dawn, make you to shine like the sun, and hold you in the palm of his hand.” And at the final commendation at the end of Mass, the beautiful proclamation “The hand of God shall hold you, the peace of God enfold you,” and the song of farewell asking that “choirs of angels come to greet you, speed you to paradise” were also espec ially comforting. Words and music lifted our hearts to God, joining with the incense that honoured one last time the body of our mother, a temple of the Holy Spirit since baptism. The curling smoke symbolized our prayers rising to the throne of God as well as one more sign of farewell: “Until we all meet in Christ and are with you (our God) and with our sister forever.”
The rite of committal
At the graveside the rite was brief, but it brought our time of prayer to a gentle conclusion. The final resting place is a holy place. The earth, from which the first human creature was molded, continues to rfeceive us in death. A brief litany of prayer, a final blessing, and the “Ave Maria” sung by a dear friend brought us to the end of the ritual expression of our faith in the face of death. The hymn to Mary was particularly meaningful to us. My mother had a great devotion to the mother of all those who belong to Christ, and this day of her funeral was the feast of the Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth.
My brothers and I and other close family members have gathered since that day of burial. Grieving does not end at the grave, nor does prayer for our loved ones who have died. Before Christmas we celebrated Mass for my mother. The first year brings a series of “first times” without our loved one. These times can reopen the wound that loss inflicts, but faith calls to us through the love of family and friends, the word of God we hear at Mass, and the comfort God sends in so many different ways.
We belong to a community whose faith helps to sustain us when our own faith falters. This community, redeemed by the suffering and death of God’s own Son, offers many forms of comfort to those feeling the wound of death, calling us to find the strength to sing from our heart: “Alleluia. Praise be to God our Father, the Lord of all consolation. Praise be to his Son, our Redeemer Jesus Christ, raised from the dead. Praise be to the Spirit, source of ongoing and eternal life. Praise now and forever. Amen. Alleluia.”
This article appeared in Reality, a magazine of the Irish Redemptorists, reprinted with permission and in slightly abridged form from Liguorian.
