As I often mention, on the cover of our bulletin each week are the words, “Beauty, Goodness, Truth, and Friendship in Christ.” These words arise from both experience and from aspiration. They are something that is already present for the follower of Christ and they remain something for which we continuously long to encounter with greater intensity. The Christian people become a sign of these realities and help one another to enter into the mysteries in a deeper way. The Funeral Mass last week for my Dad was such a profound consolation to me and to my family. In that Mass, I experienced beauty, goodness, truth, and friendship in Christ. For Christians, funerals are not intended to explain away grief, to provide quick and meaningless resolutions, or to offer platitudes. Instead, I think the Funeral Mass affords us the opportunity to enter into the mystery of life and death in a more profound way. When we try to skip over the mystery in order to get to a “solution,” it deprives us of something essential. During these past weeks, what has sustained and strengthened me was encountering so much beauty, goodness, truth, and friendship in Christ. The palpable presence of these realities did not explain away death and sorrow, but surrounded it in love and made clear that love is stronger than death. I am profoundly grateful to the clergy and staff of St. Patrick Parish whose goodness and charity made these weeks so much easier. I am also very grateful to those parishioners who, through word and deed, have expressed such beautiful charity towards my family and me. In the days leading up to the Funeral Mass, I wondered if it would all be a blur to me. I wondered if I would be anxious or too emotional. Instead, the Lord gave me such a beautiful gift. I was completely at peace. Others attended to all of the details so that I could simply focus on offering the Mass and preaching. The surprising presence of people from throughout my life was so enormously consoling. So many of them were there because over the course of years, together we had encountered beauty, goodness, and truth, and had lived together in friendship in Christ. Many who attended the funeral told me how beautiful it was to see so many priests (and Cardinal Sean) in attendance. The presence of my brother priests at that moment will be something I will never forget. I was so surprised that so many priests came to pray for my Dad and support my family and me. It fills me with profound gratitude. At the very center of my Dad’s funeral was not my Dad. At the very center of it was Jesus Christ. In the beauty, goodness, truth, and friendship that I meet in the life of the Church, Christ makes himself known to me and this is what brings consolation. As I continue to absorb all that has occurred in the past month or so, I continuously feel deep gratitude. Thank you to all of you for your kind expressions of sympathy, your presence at the funeral, and your promises of prayers. They all assure me of the truth of the Resurrection and of the presence of Christ. In these days, in the midst of sorrow, I have encountered beauty, goodness, truth, and friendship in Christ and my heart is filled with gratitude. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

During the past few weeks I have spent as much time as my responsibilities permitted by the deathbed of my Dad. In his alert moments his humor and capacity as a great storyteller shone through. More importantly, his humble faith shone through. What a privilege it was for me to hear him renew his baptismal promises in those last days of his life, anointing him, granting him the Apostolic Pardon, commending his soul to the mercy of God, chanting the Litany of Saints, imploring the Blessed Virgin, the angels and the saints to intercede for him, and praying the Rosary and Divine Mercy Chaplet by his side. Most importantly, giving him the Eucharist each day during his final agony not only was a tremendous grace for him, but was a great source of consolation for me. The very last conscious act he made was receiving the Eucharist. This particular time of the liturgical year always reminds me how thin is the veil that separates heaven and earth. In these weeks we celebrate the feasts of Padre Pio, the archangels, guardian angels, Therese of Lisieux, Francis of Assisi, Bruno, Bartolo Longo, Faustina, the Holy Rosary, John Henry Newman, John XXIII, Carlo Acutis, Teresa of Avila, Margaret Mary, Luke, John Paul II, and many others. As we pass into the first days of November we celebrate All Saints and All Souls. I always have a sense in these days that heaven is not very far away at all. As I chanted the Litany of Saints at my Dad’s bedside, although deeply sorrowed that his earthly life was coming to its end, I knew that I was placing him in good company. I trust that what the Lord began in my Dad on the day of his baptism, he will bring to fulfillment now. We will place his body into the earth with faith in the Resurrection. Last Saturday before visiting my Dad, I celebrated a Nuptial Mass here. I still need to absorb the whole thing. Simultaneously, my heart was broken from sorrow for my Dad and filled with joy at the beauty of the Sacrament of Marriage and for that couple as they begin married life. After the Mass, I went to the hospital and, as I was crossing the street in Boston, this couple stopped me. “Father, are you busy?” Admittedly, I felt kind of annoyed because I wanted to get in to see my father. I smiled and said, “No.” Then they asked, “Could you bless our twins?” In their carriage were these beautiful one-month old infants, a brother and sister. It was the boy’s first time out of the NICU. I blessed them with a lot of joy. The couple explained to me that they were not married, but were trying to figure things out and to be a family. They said that they had been going to Mass recently and wanted to stay on track. Blessed be God. I thought of how 89 years ago this month, my Dad was an infant like that with his whole life ahead of him. Now, he was at the end of his life and here are these two beautiful little infants beginning their life. Their parents chose to give them life and are now trying to find a way to be a family and provide a Catholic life for them. I will pray for them. Some day, please God, those little infants will be old and will be preparing to depart from this life. I hope that they do so having lived a life of faith, nourished by the Sacraments. One of the privileges of priesthood, I believe, is that the Lord permits us at times to share in a unique way in his own Heart. This privilege is both beautiful and heart-piercing. It sometimes feels as though the Lord were putting one hundred gallons into a one gallon container! It is to feel intensely the Lord’s love for the good thief, his weeping at the grave of Lazarus, his joy at the repentant sinner, his joy for the little children, and his ardent desire that all might be saved. And quite often, the Lord does not share these things one at a time, but all at once. These days, I am feeling things intensely. I am grateful to the Lord for that privilege. Lastly, a word of thanks to all of you for your prayers and to the priests and staff of the parish whose goodness, kindness, and generosity have allowed me the privilege to be a son and a priest to my father. I am very grateful. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes