The Mourners

This morning, at the service indicated in the prior blog, I recalled a radio spot I'd heard for a touring collection of medieval statuary, on display at the DMA until January 2.

I counted seventeen cloaked figures flanking the altar as the Celebrant conducted the funeral Mass, all older priests, many of whom I knew from my days at the school, others who taught at the University.  Additionally, there were some younger brothers and novitiates.  I was struck by the apparent age gap between those in their 20s and 30s, and those in their 70s and 80s.  There were probably two priests in the 'gap' of 40-50-60.

Our friend and mentor, Fr. Aloysius was a very special man to many people, spanning generations.  A patient teacher, counselor, and sometimes stern disciplinarian, he shepherded his students.  A classmate and friend of mine said that no mother could have defended her cubs more fiercely, than Fr. Aloysius did.  And we didn't always, or even often, make that an easy task.  Over the past three weeks, as we saw his physical life coming to its conclusion, I couldn't help seeing the parallels, in this Advent season, of one who had suffered numerous physical, emotional, and physical indignities, yet maintained strength of spirit and perseverance to complete his earthly tasks.

The Celebrant recounted an old saying, of mixed Latin and German origin, stating that "You can't give more than you have", and admitted that for most of his life he'd believed it to be true.  But recently, he had a revelation that the aphorism was wrong, that in fact, through God's power, we can give blessings far beyond  what we innately possess - the excess contribution (possibly the entire measure) being God's gift, for which we are merely conduits.

To Fr. Aloysius, I offer heartfelt gratitude for the blessings you bestowed on me.  And to my friends and whomever may read these posts, I wish the joy and love of Christ in this season.