The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, August 15, 2010
Fr. Anthony Brankin
Gospel: Luke 1:39-56 “Blessed is the fruit of your womb.”
(audio not available)
Full homily text: I like to go to the cemetery to visit my family. I have my father and mother, sister along with my grandparents and aunts at Holy Sepulchre in the south suburbs. They used to call the cemeteries: “God’s Little acre.”
Consider a life of prayer and teaching. Saint Francis de Sales’ “little virtues” of gentleness, kindness, humility, and cheerful optimism shape our monastic life. Washington, DC
And how peaceful cemeteries are really. It is only television with all the silly visual garbage written, produced, and directed by people who do not believe in God or Jesus that has tried to portray cemeteries and death as something scary and ugly and evil. They are not. Cemeteries are beautiful and peaceful and full of faith, hope and love. They really are.
And the more ancient the cemetery—the more suggestive it is of all those peaceful wonderful feelings. You see the old trees as they reign majestically over the shadowed or sunny hills. The paths—sometimes narrow and not even paved—wind quietly around the cemetery grounds passing by all the monuments and stones. You look at all the names and notice the years of birth and death; and you wonder about the families’ sorrows when they stood there in that very spot to bury their father or mother or their husband or wife.
Sometimes you see graves with all kinds of flowers and you conclude that the death must have been recent and the pain is still sharp enough to prod the family to plant and decorate and water every day.
Other times a grave looks pretty old, and there are no flowers—only grass growing up to the edge of the stone—and you decide that maybe everyone in that family has either moved away—or they too are buried somewhere.
Sometimes—and I hope you don’t think this is grisly— but I will stand at the edge of my parents’ grave and look down. I will try to peer through the six feet of earth and then pierce the concrete box and casket with my “x-ray vision” to try see my father—or mother or sister—one more time. To see them in the clothes in which we buried them. To see their dear faces one more time—and be able to say: “That’s them. They don’t look too bad.”
Oh, I know they don’t look so good. It has been many years since their souls were firing up their hearts and lungs and brains and keeping them the parents and sister I loved. It has been along time since their souls left their bodies and went back to God.
And while I am standing there, I try to imagine the End of the World. No! not the ugly, crazy television stuff—but the real End of the World when Jesus comes in the clouds—announced by all his Angels—and what a beautiful, beautiful scene that will be.
I suppose all of us will see it—no matter where we are in the world. The Last Judgment! The Second Coming! When all of this is over—no more going to work—no more hospital visits—no more tears—no more trouble.
No more walkers and wheel chairs—no more traffic—no more too hot or too cold. No more sick—no more suffering. The End of the World when all of creation is renewed—recreated—restored—redeemed. Jesus has come back—and it is a whole new day for all of us.
And while I am imaging the End of the World, I try to imagine the Resurrection. Because we have always believed that at the End of the World, part of what happens is that our souls come back to our bodies and our bodies actually rise from the dead.
I can imagine the earth quaking and erupting, the stones toppling over and being moved out of place. And then the caskets rise to the surface, open up and there they are—all my family and all your family—and they are back! Everyone we loved is alive again! And they are exactly as they were, so that we will know them; but now they have glorified bodies and they are healthy and happy and young again.
And I am so happy because I will see my father and mother and sister and all the people from the old days. But it will be better now than even when we were just souls in heaven—because we will be—at the End of the World—as God had made us—not angels—not pure spirits floating around—but humans with flesh and blood, arms and legs and face and smiles.
To stand at the edge of my families’ grave and to imagine these things is worth more to my soul than almost everything: Do you see how cemeteries—unlike what unbelievers think—are not about death—but they are about life.
We have just finished celebrating the Feast of the Assumption of Mary into Heaven. I suppose we could call it “Little Easter”—because the Assumption means that Mary—the Mother of Jesus—Mary, the Mother of God rose from the dead herself.
The Assumption of Mary is a real resurrection and what’s more—it is a pledge and a guarantee by God to the rest of us—that if we had ever thought that Jesus’ Resurrection was unique and unrepeatable and a fluke—well think again! Because here is Jesus’ Mother Mary—whom He would not allow to molder in some grave, and he causes her to raise her from the dead and be carried to heaven so that she might reign with Him as the First fruits of our redemption.
How appropriate for Mary to be Assumed into heaven and not lie in a hole in a cave until the End of the World. Her life became intimately bound up with the Incarnation of God, and the Salvation of the human race when she said, “Let it be done to me according to thy word.”
How appropriate that she would be the very exemplar of what we mean by salvation of the human race— eternal life with both Body and Soul saved from death—an eternity in heaven with Jesus and all the Saints and all the Angels and all in our families who went before.
You know, they don’t even really talk about the “Death” of Mary—because we are not sure exactly what happened. They call it the Dormition of Mary—the Falling Asleep of Mary—moments before she was assumed into heaven. In other words, it was sin that caused death, sadness, suffering and the need to have cemeteries—but since Mary was redeemed even before we were redeemed, her Dormition and her Assumption show us that redemption means Body and Soul in Heaven.
What is the most interesting proof of Mary’s Assumption? There is no tomb with Mary’s body in it. There are no relics.
We know that if Mary’s body were still here, there would be no end to the pilgrims coming to pray where her body was buried. But she—like her Son—is not there. They are both in heaven—body and soul—awaiting that great day of Resurrection and reward when the rest of us shall join them—body and soul.
If you haven’t been to the cemetery to visit your family for a while, I would encourage you to do so—certainly before winter comes. And when you go, you will find not just the grave of your father and mother, husband and wife, family and friends, but you will find also much peace.
And just in case you think you may have lost a little bit of faith, hope and love in this ugly modern world—at the cemetery you will discover that you really haven’t. You will discover that those virtues are still alive in you—just waiting to be resurrected—just like all your family who went before you.