Homily at the Mass of Christian Burial
for Joseph Patrick Peter Sanford
on Saturday, 22 June, 2002
at Saint Peter's Church in Olney, MD
by Father Thomas M. Kalita, Pastor

Among the rules for how to preach a homily, a priest or a deacon is told to keep his focus on one of three things: the scripture readings which have just been proclaimed, the mystery of the Eucharist which is about to be celebrated, or the liturgical season or the saint of the day.

In the 28 years that I have been a priest, I have had to preach the homily at many a funeral. Most often, the family and I choose readings which reflect life of the one who has died, and then in the homily I attempt to show the link of grace between Jesus and the one who is deceased.

Sometimes, it is better to talk about the mystery of dying and rising which is embodied in the Eucharist and to link the sufferings of the one who has died to the suffering, death and resurrection of the Lord.

Never, have I had occasion to link the liturgical season or the saints to the one whom we are about to honor with Christian burial. But never before have I celebrated a funeral like this one.

So today I want to present my homily in the context of saints-- (of course) three saints-- the saint on whose feast it was that Joe Sanford died, the saint on whose feast we brought his body here to be waked, the saint on whose feast we celebrate this funeral Mass.

The first of those saints gives us insight into how a grace-filled person touches lives far beyond his own circle of family and friends.

The second of those saints gives us insight into how a grace-filled person --in spite of impending death-- The third of those saints gives us insight into how a grace-filled person prepares himself for death.

+ About half-an-hour after Joe died last Wednesday, after we had all shed more tears than we knew we had within us, someone asked me who was the saint on whose feast Joe passed away. The answer was Saint Romuald, someone whose life was as different from that of Joe Sanford as you or I could possibly imagine.

Romuald lived almost a thousand years ago and he spent most of his life seeking solitude. He wanted to be alone so that he could pray. He would go off to some remote location and build a hermitage, but folks in the area would spread word about his holiness, and gather around to be close to him.

So Romuald would steal away in the night to find another remote place to build another hermitage to be alone with God, but again folks in that area would spread word about his holiness, and gather around to be close to him--and close to God. Joe Sanford--on the other hand--loved to be surrounded by people. He delighted in the presence of his family and friends.

Saint Romuald lived to a ripe old age. Joe Sanford lived an all-too-brief ten years. In these circumstances of their lives, Saint Romuald and Joe Sanford could not have been more un-alike.

But in one aspect of their lives, Saint Romuald and Joe Sanford were very much alike. Just as the people in his day experienced the love of God and were drawn to prayer in the presence of Saint Romuald, so you and I experienced the love of God and were drawn to prayer in the presence of Joe Sanford.

Joe Sanford died surrounded by those whom he loved the most. Saint Romuald--by his own request and insistence--died all alone. Those who found his body said that his appearance reminded them of a heavenly pearl. So it was for us who were privileged to be present for death of Joe Sanford. That little round face surrounded by deep blue bed coverings seemed like a treasure on loan to us from God.

What about the saint whose feast was yesterday, the day on which we celebrated Joe's wake? Forgive me, those of you with connections to Georgetown Prep, but yesterday's saint was Aloysius Gonzaga, the patron of your rival Jesuit high school. Permit me to tell you a little bit about him.

At the age when young men today go to schools like Gonzaga or Prep, Aloysius went off to study to become a Jesuit priest. He was on of those blessed individuals who have have allowed themselves to be so tranformed by the grace of God that the holiness of God is evident not only in their prayers and devotions, but in every other single thing they do-- no matter how earthly and every-day such actions may be. Saint Aloysius Gonzaga was one of those remarkably blessed individuals.

According to a tradition, while he was playing tennis one day (not golf!), Aloysius was asked what he would do if God were to call him to die within the moment. Most of us, would throw down racquet/clubs and run off to confession. Not Aloysius. His reply was classic: "I would continue to play tennis." In other words, Aloysius knew that he lived every minute of his life under the grace of God so it did not matter whether he died on his knees in chapel or on the tennis courts or even a golf course. Joe Sanford knew how to live every minute of his short life under the grace of God, and that it did not matter whether he was leading us in a decade of the rosary with beads that were blessed by the Pope or watching Cartoon Network or coloring or chomping on a chocolate bar or on a peanut butter sandwich or even sleeping 20-plus hours a day because of the medication which he was taking for his increasing pain.

Like Saint Aloysius, Joe taught us that God loves us and cares for us in every single circumstance of life, And that we should live lives so filled with God's grace that we would be ready to return to him at any moment.

How did Saint Aloysius die? Actually, it was not on the tennis court. Aloysius died a long and lingering death --though not as long and lingering as Joe did. In 1591 there was an outbreak of plague. Fearlessly, Aloysius served the sick as he would have served Jesus, and--eventually--he caught the plague himself.

As he lay dying, he wrote a letter to his mother, because he did not want her or any of his family or friends to be plunged into grief and despair. He wrote:
In return for my short [life] and feeble labors,
God is calling me to eternal rest.
His voice from heaven invites me to infinite happiness.
So take care above all things, most honored lady,
not to insult God's boundless loving kindness.
You would certainly do this if you mourned as dead
one living face to face with God,
one whose prayers can bring you in your troubles
more powerful aid that they ever could on earth.
And our parting will not be for long;
we shall see each other again in heaven;
we shall be united with our Savior;
There we shall praise him with heart and soul, and enjoy eternal happiness.
When God takes away [the life] which he lent us,
his purpose is to store our treasure more safely elsewhere,
and to bestow on us those very blessing
that we ourselves would most choose to have.

I write all this with one desire: that you and all my family may consider my departure a joy and a favor, and that with a mother's blessing you may especially speed my [passing away] till I reach the shore to which all hopes belong. I write the more willingly because I have no clearer way of expressing the love and respect which I owe to you as your son.

As I said earlier, There are some saints--like Romuald-- who give us insight into how a grace-filled person touches lives far beyond his own circle of family and friends. There are other saints--like Aloysius Gonzaga-- who give us insight into how a grace-filled person --in spite of impending death-- serves as a inspiration to us who are supposed to be helping him. Finally, there are still other saints--like one of those whose feast is today-- who give us insight into how even a grace-filled person prepares himself for death.

Thomas More was Lord Chancellor of England under King Henry VIII. He was second in power only to the monarch himself, but he would not condone the matter of the king's divorce and remarriage so Henry had him arrested, locked in the tower of London, and--eventually--executed.

Saint Thomas More shared his thoughts on dying in a letter which he wrote from prison to his daughter, Margaret. I shall not mistrust God. His grace has strengthened me until now, and though I feel myself weakening and on the verge of being overcome with fear, I shall call upon Christ and pray to him for help. Then I trust that he shall place his holy hand upon me and hold me up. Finally, Margaret, I know this well: that God will not let me be lost. I shall commit myself wholly to him.

Therefore, my own good daughter, do not let your mind be troubled over anything that shall happen to me in this world. Nothing can come but what God wills. And I am very sure that whatever that may be --however bad it may seem--it shall indeed be the best.

Most of you have been touched deeply by the Joe Sanford website. Betsy and Russ and I have talked about putting it all together in a book which just might be called Saint Joseph, Junior.

Who knows if any of this may ever happen? I do know that Joe Sanford--like Saint Romuald on whose feast he died-- was one of God's heavenly pearls. And I also know that Joe Sanford--or any of us, for that matter-- become God's treasure when we accept into our hearts that pearl of great price of which Jesus spoke.

For that pearl is Jesus himself, in whose sufferings and death we share, who comforts us in our times of sorrow, and whose victory over death we now go up to the altar to celebrate.
Amen.