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It's good to be with all of you family and friends of Fred. It's probably one of the most God-like things about us, one of the things that we do best - that really shows the face of God when in times like this we band together. We're here for each other, we are more present to each other in our fragility, in our vulnerability. There's always a certain sense of suspended animation when a death happens - for the family, especially, it's an 'in-between' time in life, when everything seems to stop as we hold up Fred's life in a kind of stillness (with a cherishing care). Fred too, in his own way, through the heart problems he experienced, had to live with an 'in-between' kind of uncertainty, but he turned that into something positive with the Heart and Stroke Foundation. I think this 'in-between-ness' may be God's tender, loving way of preparing us for absence. And in a sense for us now, "the presence of Fred's absence is everywhere."
A writer in the last century said this about absence: "Nothing can make up for the absence of someone whom we love and it would be wrong to try to find a substitute; we must simply hold out and see it through. That sounds very hard at first, but at the same time it is a great consolation, for the gap as long as it remains unfilled, preserves the bond between us. It is nonsense to say that God fills the gap; God doesn't fill it, but on the contrary, keeps it empty even at the cost of pain."
Nothing can prepare us for the suddenness of this, our life experiences don't help when our lives are turned upside down. It's not supposed to be like this; it seems especially hard that we have suffered the loss of a husband, a father, a grandfather, so close to Christmas as we prepare to celebrate the birth of Christ. But you know as we look ahead to the birth of the child Jesus, we see there our hope, the light of the world who links Fred with all of us. This newborn child, whom the hands of a woman wrapped in poor cloths and laid in a manger is a sign of hope for the whole human sign of peace for those suffering from conflicts of every kind, a sign of freedom for the burdened, poor and oppressed; a sign of mercy for those who are caught up in cycles of sin, a sign of love and consolation for those who feel lonely and abandoned, but assuredly a sign of hope for us in that because of Christ's life, Fred's life is changed but not ended, we will truly see our brother again.
I can still see this image on the black and white TV in a small town in the state of Maine in which I lived as a child, and it was the striking of a match on the dark of the screen followed by the sung words which I still remember - "if everyone lit just one little candle, what a bright world this would be." Fred was busy lighting candles - from those who know him, especially his Christopher friends who are here today, his involvement with the Christophers was life altering, a source of transformation. The Christophers approach to today's problems and promise is to put hope into action and Fred did that.
Fred stood here, right here on this spot, so dignified, so full of zest, when he was plugging the Christophers. I would call him a 'poster boy' for the Christophers because of the confidence that he exuded, his enthusiasm and dedication for the organization. Is there a better Gospel for the Mass celebrating Fred's life than the one chosen by the family that encompasses this sense of light and zest? - "See that you are dressed for action and have your lamps lit" - and also the fragility of life and often the suddenness of the end of earthly life that can overtake any one of us in an instant - which is encompassed with the words - "You too must stand ready, because the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect." We stand, as in the words of the first reading from Wisdom, "uncomprehending" around what has happened so suddenly, but what follows that word - the immediate assurance with the words - "it does not enter their heads that grace and mercy await" us. Isn't that tremendously reassuring - grace (which is love) and mercy await us - only the good.
Naturally, we ask why it happened. Often, we hear it said - that it is the will of God. Thankfully, I've not heard that mentioned even once, but we do hear it often when tragedy strikes. And we need to be perfectly clear about this. God does not will tragedy, just as a loving earthly father would never will it; neither does God. Because God does not manipulate or control life and lets us live in freedom, we can expect from time to time to be overtaken with the suddenness of death. Just as any time we are plunged into a physical darkness, we rush for light, any light, even a humble candle - at a time like this though, we rush for the only light that can penetrate the darkness, namely the light of Christ.
When this happened - on that Cross - can you imagine the immediate despair of those who had followed him and it all ends like this - the humiliation, the terrible anguish, the profound loss. How could it all end so badly?! A young mother who at a young age of about 14 had wrapped this tiny child 33 years before on that first Christmas, now watches the death of her only son with a small band who had not run away, ponders it all once again, knowing the truth and guarding the mystery. But what happened? - out of that darkness came the greatest light the world has ever seen, all who had watched in despair bathed once more on Easter morning in the light of Christ. It was not quite the old light; it was a new light. It was the light of their risen Lord who had broken the chains of death and rose in triumph from the grave. The life of Christ was changed too, but not ended. And that's solely from where our confidence springs.
Our risen Lord is with us at this moment. We are truly the beloved of God; we are loved though we are cracked vessels - there is an inborn imperfection about us. Catholic tradition has called this original sin, but the essential element about it is that we are loved sinners. Catholic homilies don't canonize people, because we're realistic. I do get the wisdom of that. We are all in the same boat that St. Paul understood of doing what we don't want to do and not doing what we want to do. So it is with all of us and so it was with Fred. We needn't fear this; we are the beloved of God. We cannot love a God we fear; it's impossible. St. Paul says in that second reading that "alive or dead we belong to the Lord" and it goes on - "this explains why Christ both died and came to life, it was so that he might be Lord of both the living and the dead." That's the assurance we have - Christ's death and Resurrection has transformed everything about life and death; death does not have the last word ever. We are eternal beings who never extinguished. Someone said recently that it probably is a much better perspective for us to experience our loss in a different way, with different eyes, not that someone was taken from us, but rather that God gifted us with Fred Zuzarte for 66 years.
Fred's son David, through technology that becomes such a special blessing in these situations, did a masterful work in reaching out to many of us through the web-site; yesterday Fred's life was so wonderfully displayed and portrayed at the Vigil. We all know Fred had a voice that rose up from the abdomen, but I didn't know about the singing voice until it was mentioned yesterday. I was deeply touched by the way grandpa was fascinated with his grandchildren. Uncle Archbishop Larry - isn't it marvellous that so many know him that way - one of the most comfortable people one could ever be around, so down to earth and authentic, sent a letter which David put on the website under Blessing Counting and I felt for those who have not seen it, it might be fitting to express his thoughts. In it words about Fred - 'jovial, good humoured, witty, liked to practise his Urdu' - Fred's love of his native Pakistan and his concern too for the situation there, are all contained in the letter. Fred made it for the Episcopal ordination of Shirley's brother, officially titled His Grace Archbishop Larry Saldanha, on his last visit home and enjoyed the tastes and sounds of his "home country" and enjoyed being with his relatives and old buddies. But in his note, His Grace suggests that Fred make the words of today's psalm his own: "My shepherd is the Lord.... There is nothing I shall want... Near resfful waters he leads me .. In the Lord's own house shall I dwell for ever and ever.
From Jesu Joy, sung at the beginning of this Mass, the light and hopefulness of the readings, the candle-fights of the Christophers, and the hymns that are to come, let us have a deep sense of God's love for all of us. On behalf of Fr.Peter, Fr.David, Fr.Bob O'Brien, Fr. Phan, Deacon Eustace, Deacon Peter and myself, our pastoral team, the Christophers present, and all of our parishioners - to you Shirley, to the children Gillian, David, Karen and your husband Graham, Donna and your husband Wayne, Jeff and your wife Paddy, to the little ones Avery and Danika, and "the one who is to come" our sincerest sympathies. You are surrounded by this wonderful big family that has wisdom and new life in the youngest members.
Thomas Merton said these astounding words which I hope will resonate in the hearts of everyone present to assure and reassure us that "all will be well:"
"At the centre of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and by illusion, a point of pure truth, a point of spark which belongs entirely to God. It is like pure glory of God in us .. It is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven. It is in everybody, and if we could see these billions of points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely .. I have no program for this seeing. It is only a given. But the gate of heaven is everywhere."
I will close with the prayer offered by His Grace: "God of light, to live in your house is the desire of all your children, Grant eternal light to your servant Fred and a reward for all his kind deeds on earth. We pray for his family and all those who mourn his passing that the power of Christ's love may lift them up, renew their hope and help them in all their needs."
We ask this through our hope and light, Our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
