The homily given by Una Agnew for the vigil of Pentecost 10th May 2008 can be
read by clicking
here
To read the talk given by Una Agnew SSL in Haddington Rd Church on May 8th
2008
click here
Homily in remembrance of our Sisters who have died in the past twelve months
We have a long list of Sisters who have gone before us in the past year, many of
whom we knew personally. And we miss them. Whether we knew them or not, however,
their deaths touch us individually by reminding us that we ourselves have only a
fragile hold on life here on earth. We are merely pilgrims, passing through.
When the late Sr. Dervile was dying someone called in to see her and asked how
she was. She replied simply Tá mé ag dul abhaile (I am going home).
Many of us spent some years in boarding school and we can probably still recall
the joy and excitement of the final days of term, looking forward, perhaps, to
the comfort of the flames of a real fire, or the luxury of home cooking, or the
joy of freedom from rules and regulations. But most of all looking forward to
being with our parents and families again, going home to welcome and love, to
where we really belonged, where we were truly at home.
Some of us, too, served abroad and we may still remember the numbing weight of
loneliness we carried within our hearts as we tried to cope with our new
situation – being far away from family and country and culture. Éilís Valkenburg,
who has recently left us so suddenly, and I found ourselves in Newmarket in the
Autumn of 1955. Apart from letters to and from our immediate families we had no
contact with people at home in Ireland and we felt quite cut off. Moreover, we
would not get home for holidays for three full years. 1958 seemed a very long
way off. On New Year’s Day 1957 Éilís sat across the table from me in the little
dining room. Her face suddenly lit up with joy and anticipation and she said to
me: “We will be going home next year”. That great day was still a year and eight
months away, but by thinking of it as ‘next year’ Éilís believed she was somehow
bringing it nearer, almost within sight. (Éilís is truly at home now and will
never be an exile again).
So, when Sr Dervile said those simple but loaded words Tá mé ag dul abhaile I
thought it was the most beautiful description of death I had ever heard. They
were spoken out of a profound faith, a perfect trust and a serene assurance that
she was handing herself over to a loving and merciful Father who would surely
have a ‘céad mile fáilte’ for her. This simple sentence speaks, too, of
Dervile’s long life of gracious service to God. Her death was the culmination of
her life of dedicated service.
The mystery of death has its dark and scary side that makes us not want to think
of it lest it deprive us of all zest for living in the here and now. But it is
also the gateway to the most wonderful, personal, intimate communion with God,
the God we are striving to know and serve. And it is also our union, in God,
with all those we have loved here on earth and who have gone before us ar shlí
na fírinne. It is our re-union with them. This doctrine of the Communion of
Saints is not a figment of our imagination or a piece of wishful thinking. It is
one of the most supportive and consoling doctrines of our faith.
“I believe in the Communion of Saints”.
Our salvation is personal, individual; the gift of Christ to us. But though we
are individuals, we are also always in relationship with others. An aspect of
Christ’s gift of salvation is that we become part of a saved and sanctified
community.
Our slánú, our being saved and made whole and complete, is not our own doing but
is pure gift. And yet the doctrine of the communion of saints is a challenge to
us - a challenge to be faithful in all aspects of our lives to God our Saviour,
who is preparing a place for us, a challenge to honour the heritage of faith
that has been passed on to us by our ancestors, a challenge to witness to that
faith in our own time and circumstances,, as they did in theirs. Thus, the
quality of our life here on earth has eternal significance, no matter how
low-key and unimportant that life may appear to be.
Research was done some years ago on the experience of people who were on the
brink of death and who came back from it. Their experience was of being drawn
towards a great light, the light of God’s glory and holiness, the radiant light
of Christ’s Resurrection – something absolutely wonderful that they were eagerly
and enthusiastically going towards. Then they experienced being somehow pulled
back from that light and being greatly disappointed.
Light is a biblical way of speaking of Heaven. Christ speaks of himself as the
light of the world: ”I am the light of the world. Those who follow me will have
the light of life”. (Jn 8:1). “They will see the Lord face to face and his name
will be written on their foreheads. It will never be night again, and they will
not need lamplight or even sunlight, because the Lord God will be shining on
them”. (Rev 22:4-5)
And so we pray: May eternal light shine on all our Sisters who have gone from us
to God in the past year. Agus go dtuga Dia slán abhaile muid go léir.
Éilís Ní Thiarnaigh
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