To be a real man is to face one’s own mortality, to stare down our human frailty as we walk ever closer toward the dark valley of the shadow of death. How we prepare for our journey to the other side of the grave is an important part of what it means to be a man of faith. And how we deal with the death of another human being can witness to the world whether or not we are who we say we are in Christ.
Recently, I had the honor of attending the Mass of Christian Burial for Dennis Sullivan, the brother of our CCMC Chaplain, Father Jim Sullivan, at St. Hedwig Church in Naugatuck, Connecticut. It was one of the most beautiful services I have ever experienced. Every detail of the Mass was meticulously and loving planned, from the music to the message, the eulogy to the Eucharist. What moved me the most was that Father Jim himself celebrated the Mass and Dennis’ daughter Marissa gave a beautiful and tearful tribute to her father at the end. The faith of these two family members truly gave testimony to the Gospel of the One who brought Dennis home to heaven.
Mortality and the Mass
I have never been very good with losing a loved one. Both of my parents died suddenly, almost a year apart from one another: my mother from complications during surgery to correct damage from chemotherapy, and my father from a diabetic episode. I remember the crushing grief, the crises of faith I faced with family members as we dealt with the shock of our loss, and numbness of spirit as I helped to plan the funerals – a Mass for my mother, and a memorial service for my father. There were many tears, words of consolation we all spoke to one another, and our faith that allowed us to move on.
As I sat in the pew the day of Dennis’ funeral Mass, I remember thinking about both my parents and how I handled their deaths and feeling alone. It was strange being there and knowing almost no one. But the minute the Mass began, I was immediately drawn into the richness of the celebration of this man’s life, even as I saw the sorrow on the faces of friends and family members. The old familiar signs were a comfort to me: the water and the white covering for the casket, the baptismal candle and the vestments of the clergy celebrating the Mass, the hymns of hope sung with grace and dignity, the readings and prayers that spoke of resurrection, and the Eucharist that called to mind the death of the One who had conquered death for us all.
Wonderful Words of Love
I did not know Dennis, and have only begun to know his brother; but in listening to Father Jim share a powerful message during the homily, I felt as though I had come to know this extraordinary man as well. Father Jim shared a lifetime of beautiful memories in those few minutes: how his brother loved shoeing horses and sharing his life with people; how he made time for faith, family, and friends; how he worked and lived and cared for others as to the Lord; and most of all, how he finished well.
What was most beautiful about this homily was that Father Jim was not just telling the story of the life of his brother, but he was telling the eternal story of the Gospel as well. He brought a couple horseshoes with him, which he held up – one facing up as a reminder of the blessings Dennis and all of us who believe receive in Christ, and one facing down, as a symbol of the Greek letter Omega, calling us to consider how all of us are commanded by follow Christ, the end of all our longings. The end for Dennis, as for each one of those who call themselves Catholic, was summed up in the life of Christ lived to the fullest, a life given in a perfect sacrifice for us all.
A Man Who Finishes Well
At the end of the Mass, I listened as Dennis’s daughter Marissa shared a deeply loving tribute to her father. Her words were authentic and inspirational because they reflected not a perfect life, but a man who longed for perfection. Dennis Sullivan lived his life to the fullest, never slowing down when he suffered an illness that some say should have taken his life much earlier. He took the extra years God had given him and loved his daughter, his family, and all those around him. His was a faithful, sacrificial love that took all that he was: his triumphs and struggles, his passion for his work and his love for the Lord, and poured it out through his words and actions every single day. Whether he was shoeing a horse, visiting a friend, or attended Sunday evening Mass, it was all a matter of returning to the Savior what had been given to him. Dennis Sullivan did indeed finish well.
Father Jim brought a collection of horseshoes from his brother’s home and asked friends and family to take one as a reminder of the blessings of Christ and His call to finish well. I did not take a horseshoe so that there would be enough for those who truly knew Dennis well. As the Mass ended, I watched the family and friends move out of the church solemnly, sharing words and hugs and tears with one another. I slipped quietly away to return home, taking with me the memories of that day and the beautiful lessons I had learned.
What Kind of Man Are You?
As I drove home to my family that day, I reflected a great deal on message of the Mass. I thought about the many blessings in my life: my wife and children and their love for me, my health, my gifts, and most of all, my faith. But I also thought seriously about my own journey toward heaven and prayed to my Father that I too might finish well.
As this year’s Connecticut Catholic Men’s Conference approaches, I hope you will consider what it means to love, to grow in your relationship with one another and with Christ, and most of all to finish well. I hope you will join us, to add your own unique stories to the stories of all those who will attend. I pray you spend time in fellowship and prayer, reconcile with the Lord in Confession, and celebrate the death of our Savior in the closing Mass, as we await His coming in the end. And I pray that as you consider your own mortality, you will seek out the One who calls us all to finish well.
