6 JANUARY 2024
A Mass of Christian Burial was celebrated for Gloria Robins at Saint Joseph Church by Father Terrance Klein, pastor. Haley Troyer cantored and Leon Sobba was the organist.
The Loved One Death Reveals |
Gloria Robins |
Terrance Klein |
Saint Joseph 6.I.2024 |
Job 19: 1, 23-27 Romans 6: 3-4, 8-9 John 5: 24-29
At death a loved one disappears from our eyes, but when a life has been well lived in Christ, it’s only in death that a loved one is fully revealed to those eyes.
Death is, as Hamlet says, “the undiscovered country from whose bourn / No traveler returns.” We know that the dead pass forever from our eyes, yet in the weeks to come, you who have loved Gloria, will repeatedly relearn this lesson. You will slide into routines that include her, look for her insight, still expect to hear her voice. A beloved mother is a fulcrum around which worlds form. Her loss disorients our lives.
Patti offers an illustration:
Having had her to talk to for almost fifty years of my adult life, it already feels strange not to be able to see her and talk to her. Her positive outlook on life and her humor, while still having the ability to be empathetic at the same time, are qualities that I have tried to emulate in my own life. She could be listening to me about a sad problem, taking time to sympathize, but then crack a joke that would make me laugh and move on.
So yes, Gloria has passed beyond our eyes. That loss is final and ever so fulsome. But when a life has been well lived in Christ, it’s death that fully reveals a loved one to our eyes.
How does death reveal a loved one to us? The looming crater, which has emerged in the center of our lives, declares what once was there, what so often escaped the eyes of daily life. Becky puts this so well when she writes:
Mom was my first phone call (after my husband when I married) when I had good or bad news to share. She always softened the blow when it was bad and helped me celebrate when it was good. I didn’t understand the sacrifices mom made for me until I became one. Her husband and six children came first. We were her entire life.
And an example immediately comes to her mind:
I know she stayed up sewing late into the nighttime and had time again after the family had been fed, the dishes had been cleaned, and her children were tucked into bed.
But Saint Paul, in his letter to the Romans, reveals a new depth to death and life. We are to live as though we had already died to ourselves. We are to live for others because we live in Christ.
Are you unaware
that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus
were baptized into his death?
In the waters of baptism, Gloria died to the world so that she might live in Christ. There she was conformed to Christ, commissioned to become Christ to others.
If we live as Christ lived, we already lose ourselves in lives of loving service to others. We aren’t someone who must be accounted for. We look out for others. We aren’t someone who seems significant. We make others feel their worth. This is who Gloria was called to be in Christ, and this is who she became in him.
Beth (Nancy) Blankinship Jacobski writes:
Aunt Gloria allowed me to be me! The few times we visited I never felt judged by her. I can honestly call her a champion, one of those ladies who gets all these rewards in heaven, yet she earned those from behind-the-scenes events, not needing to stand out. Her presence and spirit will be missed greatly!
And of course, that selfless love wasn’t confined to her family. Becky writes:
Mom demonstrated how to engage and support your community. She used her limited resources of time and money to bake for the community when called upon. Mom was an excellent baker. The smell of her chocolate chip cookies escaping from the open front door after a lousy day of school will stay with me until the day I die. I recognize now that mom’s baking was her way of showing us her love…or in today’s verbiage…baking was mom’s love language.
Patti adds:
She loved her friends. We always had people stopping by for coffee at any time of the day. It was just an open-door policy with her group of friends.
When one of us dies in Christ, Catholics gather to celebrate Eucharist, the Church’s great act of remembrance and thanksgiving. It’s in the Eucharist that we remember who Christ is, the manifestation of the Father’s love. In Eucharist we give thanks for the love that redeemed us from death.
So, it’s in Eucharist that we ponder who Gloria was in Christ, and in Eucharist that we give thanks to the Lord who created her, redeemed her, and gave her to us. And of course, it’s in Eucharist that we remember death doesn’t have the last word.
In Baptism we already pass into death. In Eucharist we already pass into resurrected life. For it’s only in resurrection that Christ truly reveals himself to his loved ones. He doesn’t return from death to denigrate his detractors. He returns to renew his love for those whom his Father had given to him. He tells them that he lives and that they will live in him. He says the same to us today in this Eucharist.
Amen, amen, I say to you,
Whoever hears my word
And believes in the one who sent me
Has passed from death to life.
For all men and women, the death of a loved one reveals what they’ve lost. But when a loved one dies in the Lord, eyes of faith see what has been taken up into Christ. The duties of daily life, which make us who we are, become our deepest, eternal identity in the Lord.
When presented with two pounds of ground beef, two eggs, Minute Rice, and a can of tomato sauce, mom could create four, maybe five dishes to feed a family of eight.
No, Gloria isn’t still stretching limited resources, but she remains ever so fruitful in the Lord. She lives in him, and she will continue to intercede for her loved ones on earth. She passes from our sight. We do not pass from hers.
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