Fr. JC Maximilian

I would like to thank the many people who have offered their prayers for the repose of my father’s soul, and for the consolation of my family. Our many wonderful family and friends have made this difficult time much easier. My father’s funeral was on Tuesday, December 27. Bishop Smith of Trenton attended in choir, and had some beautiful words to say as a remembrance after Holy Communion. I was deeply honored to have so many of my brother priests concelebrate the Mass, and many deacons. Congressman Christopher Smith, for whom my mother worked and who is (IMHO) a contemporary example of a St. Thomas Moore in how he lives his Catholic faith in his work for the public good, also attended. Writing my father’s homily was one of the more difficult things I have had to do, yet the grace of God assisted me in offering a beautiful Mass for Dad. I am posting below the homily I gave, and I hope to post in the future the wonderful “eulogies” that my niece Sydney and sister Ann Marie gave at the wake the night before.

Funeral Homily for My Father,
John S. Garrett
December 27, 2005

At a time like this there are so many different emotions that we might be feeling – sorrow and sadness, confusion, loss, and even maybe some anger. These are the emotions of grief that we all experience, in our own ways, after the death of a loved one, whether for a husband, a father, brother, grandfather, uncle, friend, or co-worker.

We see in the Gospel reading chosen for this Mass that the emotions of grief have not changed all that much over the years. In the Gospel we encounter Martha and Mary, grieving over the death of their brother Lazarus. Mary, so overcome with sadness, stays at home with the many friends who have come to support her in her time of grief. Martha, in hearing that Jesus has come, goes out to meet Him. In offering His consolation to Martha, Jesus tells her that He is the Resurrection and the Life, and assures her that anyone who believes in Him will not suffer eternal death. Jesus then turns to Martha, I am certain looking her right in the eyes with love in His, and asks her, “Do you believe this?”

“Do you believe this?” This is the question that Jesus continues to ask His disciples now, as they too face the grief of the death of a loved one. What do we believe? Do we truly believe that Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life? Do we take comfort in Him? Do we place our hope in Him and His promise of eternal life? Of course the belief, the faith that Jesus asks of us is not a mere intellectual assent to His teaching. Rather Jesus asks us for a living Faith – one of action.

While there are many things for which I am thankful to my father for, the one for which I am most grateful is the gift of handing on to me a living Faith in Christ Jesus. Dad was a doer, and not just in his being a hard worker for his family. Dad lived actively his Faith in Jesus Christ.

I remember Dad living his faith in his commitment to the Pro-Life movement. Some of my earliest childhood memories are of going to Washington for the Pro-Life March, no matter how cold it was. I remember praying as a family the Rosary for a greater respect of human life. Dad lived out his respect of God’s gift of human life in working, with his brother Knights, at the soup kitchen in Trenton, visiting the retired veterans, and collecting for the Special Olympics.

Of course Dad lived his faith through his involvement in the Knights of Columbus. As a Past Faithful Navigator of the Fourth Degree, member of the color guard, and serving three times as Grand Knight of his council, Dad believed firmly in the value of the Knights of Columbus in promoting the best virtues of Christian manhood. Whether it was marching in a parade, selling Tootsie Rolls for the developmentally disabled, working picnics, Christmas parties, helping with free-throw competitions, or just hanging out with his fellow ROMEOs – that is “Retired Old Men Eating Out” – Dad could always be counted on to assist his brother Knights in any way he could.

The central way that Dad lived out his faith in Christ Jesus was the Mass. The Second Vatican Council describes the Mass as the source and summit of all the activities of the Church, and the Mass was certainly that for Dad. Of course there was the regular attendance at Sunday Mass, but Dad wanted to live out the Mass in his life. He was very honored to have been one of the first Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion here at St. Raphael’s, not only at Mass but also to take our Lord to the infirmed at the hospital. Even when he became less able to assist as an Extraordinary Minister, he never resigned from it because he hoped to return to that ministry. After his retirement Dad took great joy in going to Mass nearly every day. In fact one of the most distressing things to him about his final illness was that he could not attend Mass. I know that he appreciated it so much when I was able to come home and celebrate Mass for him and Mom in our living room.

How truly beautiful was his last day of earthly life. His family, whom he loved so much, was able to gather around him and tell him how much they loved him. When I arrived that day, I celebrated the Mass in his room with my family around him. The Gospel that day proclaimed the account of the Annunciation. How appropriate since Dad was born of the feast of the Annunciation. I gave my Dad Viaticum, anointed him, and gave him the Apostolic Pardon. About an hour later Dad died, the last nourishment he received on earth was the Body and Blood of Christ Jesus in the Eucharist.

Jesus came to His friends Martha and Mary in their grief over the death of their brother Lazarus, and comforted them with His promise of Eternal Life. Just a few lines after the passage we heard today we hear that as Jesus approached the tomb of Lazarus He wept. Jesus, in sharing our human nature shares our human emotions. As the Eternal Word, Jesus continues to come to His friends, His disciples, in the midst of their sorrows. He is with us now as we mourn the death of my father. Jesus is here with us, offering us His words of consolation, His words of Hope in Eternal Life with Him. Do we believe this?

Merry Christmas! We hear in our first reading that the sentinels bearing good news shout for joy, saying “Your God is King,” and with them we too should be shouting for joy.

Of course on Christmas we celebrate the birth of Jesus. There are different sets of readings for Christmas, depending on the time of day we are celebrating this great event of our salvation. In the Christmas Vigil Mass the gospel reading from St. Matthew starts with the genealogy of Jesus and concludes with the narrative of his birth in a humble stable in Bethlehem. In this account of Jesus’ birth, the emphasis is on highlighting Jesus’ humanity; how God Himself came among us, sharing in our human nature. In the gospel reading we hear in the Christmas Day Mass the Prologue of St. John’s Gospel is proclaimed. This is the great hymn about the Eternal Word, God the Son, making His dwelling among us. This passage seems to place the emphasis on the Divinity of Christ.

So, who is Jesus, whose birth we celebrate with great joy today? He is the God-Man. He is the Second Person of the Trinity who humbled Himself to take on our human nature; as Scripture says, “A man like us in all things but sin.” Today we celebrate that at a point in time God takes on a finite human nature and lives a life on earth. Why would God, who needs nothing from us, do this? I would like to propose several reasons.

First, Jesus came to show us how we should live. Too many people seem to forget that Jesus has a real human nature. They think, “Well it was easy for Him because He’s God.” While it is true Jesus was not burdened with the consequences of Original Sin, He faced the same challenges that we face, felt the same emotions we feel. As the Second Vatican Council taught, Jesus reveals Man to himself.

Second, Jesus was born to show us His love for us. God does not need us. He is perfectly complete in Himself. He could have just written us, and the rest of creation, off as having rejected Him; even caused us to cease to exist. But He loves us. HE LOVES US! He not only knows what will truly make us happy, but He never stops offering us the grace to accept the gift of His love. God gives all of Himself in love for us. We are called to give all of ourselves in love to Him.

Third, Jesus came to repair and renew human nature. Let’s face it, we messed up. God offered us real, everlasting life and happiness, and instead of receiving His gift, we tried to take it. We sinned. But God did not give up on us. By Jesus’ life and death he in some way takes our sins onto Himself and abolishes them.

Fourthly, Jesus is born for us to share His Spirit with us. In doing so He gives us a new source of life. Eternal life, actually sharing in His Divine Life.

During this Christmas season make a special effort to get to know Jesus even more intimately. Renew and deepen your friendship, your life with Him. He will fill you with Eternal Joy.

Mom and Dad bringing up the gifts at my ordination
Originally uploaded by frjcmaximilian.

My father, John S. Garrett, died this evening of cancer. He was 68 years old, and married to my mother for 42 years. He was one of the first Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion at our parish, serving as one for about 30 years, not only at Mass but also taking Communion to those in the hospital. After his retirement, about 15 years ago, he went to Mass nearly every day. He was very active in the Knights of Columbus; serving at three separate times as Grand Knight, and once as Faithful Navigator.

My sister Mary and her daughter Sydney drove up from NC last night, and my sister Ann arrived from St. Louis this afternoon and went straight to the hospital. Apparently Dad was a bit more responsive this morning; answering “yes/no” questions, and telling people he loved them.

I was on duty at the parish today, so I had several shut-ins who called wanting to go to Confession before Christmas. I arrived at Dad’s hospice room a little after 3 p.m. this afternoon. Mom and Sydney had stepped out for a bit, so it was Ann, Mary and me. When Mom and Sydney got back, about 4 p.m., I celebrated Mass in my Dad’s room, giving him Viaticum, a final anointing, and the Apostolic Pardon. I stayed talking with my family, sharing stories of Dad, until 6:15 p.m., and then I headed back to the parish to attend the pre-school Christmas show. I was just about back to the parish when my sister Mary called to say that Dad had just died, at around 6:30 p.m.

I went back to the hospital. All my sisters, my brother-in-law Ed, my nieces Sydney and Moira, and nephew Liam were there with my Mom. Mom was holding up pretty well. When I hugged her I just started crying. My sisters were all crying, as was Sydney. I don’t think Liam and Moira fully understood what was going on, although Liam seemed to a bit more. Of course we were calling a lot of people to let them know, and to activate the various “prayer trees.” Ann told me that she had a premonition during Mass that Dad was going to die that night; see the Gospel today was the account of the Annunciation and Dad was born on the Solemnity of the Annunciation. After spending about an hour at the hospice with Dad’s body, we went to Uncle Bob’s to tell him. He handled the news of his brother’s death pretty well. He said that he was glad that Dad was no longer suffering, and that he was now at peace.

I have only been a priest for about 19 months, so while I cannot say I have done hundreds of funerals, I am not a rookie either. Today I officiated at the saddest funeral I have done so far in my priesthood. It was the first child funeral I have done.

Little Jaime Lynn was only two years old. I did not know the family. That is one of the more difficult things about being a priest in this day and age in the Northeast. Our parishes are often so very large, that it can be a challenge to get to know most of one’s parishioners. Of course I have only been at OLS-St. Anthony’s for a week, so it would not be likely that I would know the family. I met Jaime Lynn’s parents for the first time just a few minutes before the funeral. From the many pictures they had at the funeral parlor, Jaime Lynn certainly seemed like a beautiful, happy child — very much loved by her parents and older sisters. From what I am told she got sick in the Spring, and then passed away this week. The turn out for the funeral was very large. Even grown men were moved to tears. The father’s cousin, a deacon from Philadelphia, assisted me.

Since this was my first funeral for a child, I had never read the prayers that the funeral liturgy has for children. They are very beautiful and comforting. The image of the Good Shepherd carrying His lamb in His arms is very promenient. One of the Gospel readings you can choose is the passage where Jesus tells the apostles to let the children come to Him, and how He then embraced them and blessed them. It is the Gospel selection I use for baptisms.

Please pray for Jaime Lynn, although since she was baptized and really below the age where she could commit mortal sin I think we can be fairly certain that she is with Christ Jesus in paradise. Pray also for her parents, sisters, and the extended family.

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice!” St. Paul exclaims to the Philippians in one of his letters, and we heard in today’s second reading that he also urged the Thessalonians to “Rejoice always!” Why does St. Paul spend so much time telling people to rejoice? Well, first of all no one wants to be around a grumpy person. However St. Paul goes further in his letter to the Philippians to give the basic reason for this profound happiness, “The Lord is at hand!”

We celebrate this profound and basic truth that the Lord is near, during this, the Third Sunday in Advent. The Church proclaims this to be “Gaudete Sunday” taking it from the Latin word for “Rejoice.” The Prophet Isaiah also tells us that he rejoices, and he too gives the reason for his rejoicing when he writes in our first reading, “in my God is the joy of my soul.” It seems pretty simple: the key to our happiness is centering our life on God and doing His will. Unhappiness comes from putting distance between God and us by our sins.

I recently stumbled across an email that I sent to my niece about a year ago. She had just turned 13, and like most teenagers relationships with friends and family had their ups and downs. It was also a time when I was being much more reflective. You see, I had just undergone my second surgery for thyroid cancer, so I really could not talk much and basically did little more than lay in my recliner thinking, praying and sleeping. Let me share with you some of that email that I sent to my niece.

“Human friendships cannot be the foundation, the root, of our happiness. Why? Because they change. As you know, people have good days and bad days. Sometimes we don’t always behave toward our friends the way we would like. We disappoint them, and they disappoint us. Very often it is not out of meanness that they disappoint us, perhaps even hurt us. The fact is as human beings we are limited, and we cannot read other people’s hearts. To make another human person the foundation for our happiness is too heavy a burden for the friendship; because of our limitations we can only fail to live up to it. In the worse case, they disappoint/hurt us, we retaliate by doing the same to them, they retaliate, etc. and it ends the friendship and both are sad, hurt and unhappy.

The foundation or root of our happiness must be in something that does not change, that is not limited, and that knows us better than we know ourselves. Scripture tells us that Christ Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever, and no one knows the deepest desires of our hearts better that Jesus. He will never stop loving us. If we make Jesus the foundation of our happiness, our joy, then even in difficult times, even when we feel alone there will still be, deep down inside us joy. Jesus’ friendship will endure any of the changing things of this world.

And, by making Jesus the foundation of our joy, our happiness, we can be better friends to our human friends. There will not be the burden of making them responsible for our happiness. When, due to their human weakness and limitation, they disappoint or hurt us we might do a better job at being patient and forgiving with them and skip the whole dance of “they hurt me so I am going to hurt them.” With that acceptance of their flaws hopefully, if they too root their joy/happiness in Christ, they will accept our imperfections better and our friendship can grow even closer. Without making them the burden of making them responsible for our happiness, there can be the freedom to become even better, closer friends and to experience happiness in that relationship. It is just another example of if we give all we have to Jesus, He will give us even more.”

With that, allow me to introduce myself. I am Fr. JC Garrett, and I rejoice in the fact that I am the new parochial vicar here at OLS-St. Anthony Parish. This really is a “home-coming” for me. My father and uncle graduated from St. Anthony’s. I was baptized in St. Anthony’s over 40 years ago. I attended McCorristin HS. My aunt and uncle, with their three kids, belonged to OLS. I even went to next door for my pediatrician.

I am a pretty new priest; only ordained a priest for a little over a year and a half, having served at St. James in Red Bank. I feel very blessed that Bishop Smith decided to move me closer to my parents since my father has terminal cancer, and I truly rejoiced when I heard that I would be coming here. I pray that I will serve you well as your priest, and that together we can walk a bit more holier with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I say it again, Rejoice!

What do you think of when you think of a desert? Probably, like most people, you think of a dry, barren place where there is not much rain or even much life. I think most of us probably do not have a strong desire to be in a desert for any length of time. It might be an interesting place to visit, but only for a brief time. It can just seem so lifeless and lonely.

For those who have been actively pursuing the spiritual life for any length of time, they know that there are also spiritual deserts. The great Carmelite spiritual master, St. John of the Cross, referred to these spiritual deserts as the dark nights of the soul. During these “dark nights” God can seem so distant from us. We can even wonder if He loves us any more. Like environmental deserts, spiritual deserts can seem quite lifeless, barren and desolate. They are not fun places to be.

In today’s first reading from the book of Isaiah, we get a very different image of the desert. God, through the prophet, is calling Israel back to the desert as a means of renewing their relationship with Him. Scripture scholars tell us that the section of Isaiah that we heard today marks a transition. The first 39 chapters of the Book of Isaiah seems to have been written in the eighth century B.C., and focuses on the prophet calling the people to trust in the saving power of God, even as they face attack from the Assyrians. The second part of the Book of Isaiah, which we heard the beginning of today, seems to have been written in the middle of the sixth century B.C., probably by a disciple of Isaiah of Jerusalem. At this time the Israelites have been living in exile in Babylon as a conquered, defeated people. God’s saving power is recalled as the Israelites prepare to make the long trip across the desert to Jerusalem after having been released from exile by the new Babylonian king.

For the Israelite people this release from the Babylonian Exile is seen as a second Exodus. The prophet helps the people see that the desert, instead of being seen as just a barren and lifeless place, was in fact where their relationship with God was at its best for they completely entrusted themselves to His care. Another prophet, Hosea, describes the 40 years in the desert during the Exodus as the “honeymoon” period between Israel and YHWH.

Likewise, St. John of the Cross tells us that it is during the dark nights of the soul that the greatest spiritual growth is possible. Instead of seeing these dark nights as time of spiritual lifelessness, these dry periods of prayer are actually invitations to draw into an even more deeply intimate relationship with God but abandoning ourselves into His loving hands so that He can lead us even when we cannot see where.

God continues to invite into the desert to honeymoon with Him each Advent. In today’s Gospel we meet the great desert guide in the person of St. John the Baptist. St. John is the voice in the desert that Isaiah predicted, calling all people of faith into the desert to be purified of their sins.

Our sins are obstacles that make our path to God anything but straight. Like in physical deserts, there are mirages in the spiritual life. We call them temptations. We think we have found a better way, a shortcut, but in fact they are just leading us away from God. Instead of following God’s will, we follow our own. Advent is in fact a penitential season. Like the inhabitants of Jerusalem in today’s Gospel reading, we have to go out to God, waiting for us often in the desert, away from the distractions of this life, to repent of our sins, of all the laziness and self-indulgence that make our lives a spiritual wasteland. “We have to straighten out our lives, so that everything we do leads us to Him” (Breaking the Bread: A Monthly Publication of the St. Paul Center for Biblical Theology, December 2005).

This week has been most interesting, and next week is going to be even busier because I am moving.

As I have mentioned, my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer in October and I have been helping my mother care for him, as well as helping my uncle make the move to assisted living. Between dad’s daily radiation treatment and other doctor appointments, and the overwhelming amount of paperwork I have to go through to complete my uncle’s application for assisted-living, my day off has been completely consumed. My pastor, and the other priests with whom I live, have been terrific, especially in allowing me more time off to get this family stuff done. However the hour drive each way just to get home has just added to already long days (keep in mind, it has just been a year since I, myself, was diagnosed with thyroid cancer).

This past Tuesday, after doing a lot of running with my uncle, and helping my mother with dad, (and after a lot of prayer), I decided to call my bishop to see if I could meet with him. His secretary set up an appointment for me for yesterday (Thursday). About a half hour after doing that my pastor called me to tell me that he had heard from the bishop (before my call) that another priest was being sent to St. James. In that I saw divine providence that I was doing the right thing, for if I requested a transfer closer to home I would not be leaving St. James short.

My meeting with Bishop Smith yesterday was very good. He was very understanding, supportive and pastoral. He said that he would arrange a transfer. Today I received a call from the director of priest personnel, and I will be transferred to Our Lady of Sorrows-St. Anthony Parish, starting next Friday, Dec. 9 (the 1 year anniversary of my second cancer surgery). It is a wonderful place to be sent; adjacent to my parents’ parish, and actually my uncle’s parish. I was baptized in St. Anthony’s 41 years ago this week. The pastor there is very good. I will have a lot of packing to do, and notifications to make, but God has blessed me.