Accept, surrender and hope
Since I was young, I used acronyms to help me remember important things. ASH is an acronym of Jesus’ final words. The same ash that symbolizes death and repentance.
The crowds spilled over all the side courtyards of the big church where I attended the Mass for Ash Wednesday. I heard that the situation was the same for most of the churches in the metro. After the 5:15 p.m. Mass, one of the six Masses they had that day, my forehead bore the dark cross from smeared ash, a symbol both of death and repentance.
I couldn’t help but connect the event to the funeral Mass of a good friend last Thursday. It was presided by Bishop Mylo Hubert Vergara, a very close friend of our departed classmate who was only diagnosed with stage 4 cancer mid-December last year. His homily presented great insights on the subject of death, a topic discussed by Fr. Nic Austriaco, O.P., in an interview feature I did a few weeks back.
Many messaged me regarding that interview. Most have lost someone dear and are still stuck with deep grief and sometimes even guilt. They said the wisdom shared by Fr. Nic clarified issues that baffled or bothered them, providing them closure and peace.
Having also experienced loss after loss over the past three years, allow me to share some insights from Bishop Mylo, which might help enlighten you regarding the loss of a loved one or at least lighten the burden in your hearts.
Bishop Mylo said that one can’t help but wonder why a Eucharistic celebration becomes the culmination of a funeral when with finality we put a loved one to rest. “Eucharist” comes from the Greek word that means thanksgiving. We have heavy hearts because of our loss, we are burdened by pain, so what exactly do we celebrate?
“I was wondering how perhaps the Father God would help us go through this weeping and lamentation. We know (our loved one) has gone, but now we will lay her remains to rest. Before cremation we still saw her in the coffin. When she was cremated her remains were still with us. The feeling of proximity helped us cope but when we do a funeral, this whole process of laying to rest, we know there is finality. We will put her to rest, whether in a tomb, a crypt or an ossuary. When you go home there will be a void, an emptiness. The physical presence is forever gone,” Bishop Mylo said.
Acceptance and surrender are pathways that are not easy to navigate, but they do lead to endless hope.
“How can we cope? I was imagining the Lord crucified and God the Father looking at him. Three words echoed — surrender, acceptance, hope. Surrender. The last words of Jesus were ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’ Maybe it is asked of us that we surrender to the Father, to God, our loved one who was just lent. Or actually (our loved one) was really a gift to us,” he added.
“Acceptance. Even acceptance is a process. It takes time. What do we have to accept? We have to accept that the mission (of our loved one) in this world is accomplished. As a daughter, a wife, a mother, a servant of the Church. The fulfillment is something we can testify to because we are here. Mass or Eucharist means thanksgiving. That is where acceptance comes in, thanksgiving and acceptance that she has fulfilled her mission,” he continued.
“The final word is hope. It was daybreak (after Jesus died on the cross) and there were women who wanted to go to the tomb but they saw angels. First terrified, but with reverence, with mixed feelings and emotions, they saw the light that Jesus was risen from the dead. That is our hope: one day we will be with her, too,” he concluded.
armor for everyday life.
As I stood all throughout the Ash Wednesday Mass, I remembered those three words identified by Bishop Mylo. Surrender. Acceptance. Hope. Since I was young, I used acronyms to help me remember important things. It dawned on me that if I just rearranged the three words to acceptance, surrender and hope then they spell ash. The same ash that symbolizes death and repentance. Ash Wednesday is the start of Lent, which ends on Easter Sunday.
Acceptance and surrender are pathways that are not easy to navigate, but they do lead to endless hope.