A Time for Faith

 A wonderful woman died last week.  I was privileged to give the homily at her funeral Mass this morning.

The Raising of Lazarus by Rembrandt (circa 1630)

          The first time I met Jenn Hoban she gave me the finger.  The index finger that is.  It was a few years ago when she pointed her finger in my face and asked, “Why does God allow his children to suffer?”  She told me the story of Katie’s heart surgery and wanted to know why an all-loving God would allow an innocent baby to suffer like that.  In just a few words punctuated by flailing hands, I knew I was dealing with a tough a Bronx chick who grew up in an Italian neighborhood, so I wasn’t about to give her some flowery theological answer and hope that she’d just go away.   So I told her the truth:  “I don’t know.”  It’s not a satisfying answer, I know, and I was afraid that Jenn might lose faith because of it.  But that wasn’t the case at all.  Jenn kept coming to Mass with her family, she stayed involved in Family PREP, and she continued to run our Thanksgiving Food Drive.  She also kept asking Deacon Joe and me that same question whenever she got the chance, finger and all.  Jenn understood that knowledge has its limits; there comes a time for faith.

          Our Gospel reading this morning is an excerpt from the miraculous story of the Raising of Lazarus.  In this passage, Martha challenges Jesus:  “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”  In other words, “Why did you let him die?”  “Here is one of the most human speeches in all the Bible, for Martha spoke half with a reproach that she could not keep back, and half with a faith that nothing could shake.”[1]  Martha was distraught; she felt let down; she had her doubts, but she still had faith in Jesus; she still believed that Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life.

 

          Like Martha, we have our doubts; at least I know I do.  Many of us probably share Jenn’s question in one form or another, especially today:  Why does God allow his children to suffer?  Why does God let our loved ones die?  We don’t know, and I’m not alone in saying it.  Pope Francis gave that same answer to a young girl just two weeks ago.  Sometimes we just don’t know.  But that’s why Jenn’s question is so important to ask; it delivers us to the threshold of faith.  Where catechesis and theological knowledge fail, faith steps in.  Faith teaches us that there’s a time for everything under the heavens – a time for life and a time for death (Ecclesiastes 3: 1-2).  Faith teaches us that God is love (1 John 4: 8), and that God so loved the world that he gave his only Son (John 3: 16).  Faith teaches us that Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life; whoever believes in him will never die (John 11: 25-26).  Faith teaches us that the crown of righteousness waits for those who keep the faith (2 Timothy 4: 6-8).  And that’s our challenge, especially today:  we have to keep the faith; we have to believe in the Resurrection and the Life.

 

But keeping the faith doesn’t mean that we have to deny how we really feel.  As I’ve said to Jenn’s family, our feelings are always legitimate; we have to honor them.  But when we feel angry, let’s point that finger and tell God that we’re angry; when we’re sad, let’s tell God that we’re sad; when we doubt, let’s tell God that we doubt.  Placing our burdens before God is itself an act of faith; it’s prayer.  When we place our burdens before God, we open ourselves to God’s healing love, and we open ourselves to the sure knowledge that in the end “All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.”[2]  Remember, Christ came to dwell among us to free us from our burdens and from the power of death.  Have faith in him, and receive his eternal life.

          Jenn had faith. 

+ Jenn’s faith was crying out to me from the end of that finger as she questioned the ways of the God she loved so much.

+ Jenn’s faith inspired her evangelical wakeup calls: “Rise and shine and give God the glory glory!”

+ Jenn’s faith compelled her to fight for what she believed in, making her the loudest and toughest spectator at all the kids’ games.

+ Jenn’s faith, evident in her love of God and neighbor, gave her the strength to finish the Thanksgiving Food Drive through the pain of cancer. 

+ Jenn’s faith welcomed the Lord with open arms as she received him in Holy Communion from her sick bed.

+ Jenn’s faith echoes in the advice she gave her children:  “Keep on doing what you’re doing.  Don’t give up.”

Sure, Jenn had her doubts, but she lived her faith.  So I have every assurance of faith, that Jenn has received the gift of eternal life.  And if faith isn’t enough, then eight years as a Girl Scout Troop Leader has to count for something.

          About a week before she died, Jenn gave me the finger.  The index finger, again.  This time, her question was more of a command:  “You’ll be there, right?”  We were planning this funeral, and Jenn wanted to make sure that I’d be here today.  I was flattered and had no problem assuring her that I’d be here.  But the more I think about it, the more I believe that Jenn was challenging me to make a statement of faith; to stand before this congregation as a statement that I believe that Jesus Christ is the Resurrection and the Life.  Well, here I am; and I believe.  I stand here with my doubts, of course, doubts that years of theological studies haven’t answered.  But thank God for Jenn Hoban and her beautiful family, who’ve taught me so much about the power of faith, and thank God for the gift of faith that sustains us through difficult times like this.  There’s a time for faith.  The time for faith is always now.

Readings:  Ecclesiastes 3:1-8; 2 Timothy 4: 6-8; John 11: 17-27

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[1] William Barclay, The Gospel of John, vol. 2 (Louisville, Westminster John Knox Press, 1975) at 91.

[2] Julian of Norwich, The Showings (Mahwah, Paulist Press, 1978) at 151.