'Hope Does Not Disappoint': The Paschal Candle Burns for One Almost Forgotten Man

A Jubilee inscription takes on new meaning as a baptismal promise is fulfilled at a funeral Mass marked by hope and mercy.

(Photo by Karin Gamba)

By Karin Gamba

The flame of the Paschal candle flickered as the daily Mass crowd slipped into their pews on a cold Monday morning in December. Carved into the tall pillar of wax are the words of St. Paul to the Romans: Hope does not disappoint. First lit at the Easter Vigil, the candle proclaims the joy of resurrection, Christ, the light of life, triumphing over the darkness of death. Its inscription commemorates the Jubilee Year of Hope, now recently come to a close. On this morning, though, the candle burns for one man.

That man is Lawrence Sweeney, “Larry.”

Most in attendance do not know his face, his voice or the particulars of his story. There are no family members huddled in the front pews, no lifelong friends comforting one another with soft-spoken condolences and shared memories. Instead of sons, grandsons or nephews, altar servers and a few men of the parish stand in to escort Larry’s body on its final pilgrimage to the front of the church. Except for his nursing home caregivers, the sacristan Pilar Perez, who often brought him communion, and Father Matthew Magee, pastor of St. Stephen Parish in Glenwood Springs, no one present knew him personally. And yet, so many have come this morning.

Today, there will be no stirring eulogy recalling youthful mischief; no fatherly pearls of wisdom remembered; no professional success stories extolled. No one will stand to testify to decades of friendship.

Stripped of these extras, what remains, instead, is something quieter and perhaps more germane: the Church at prayer for one of her sons. The faithful kneel. The Mass is offered. The Paschal flame keeps watch.

Larry Sweeney had no family to hold his hand in his last moments, no circle of friends who could tell his story. But he was not forgotten. He had a priest who showed up, sacraments that sustained him and a fidelity to the Church that did not waver even as his body weakened.

In addition to suffering from memory loss, “Larry was deaf. He couldn’t hear a thing,” mused Father Magee in his homily. “He would sit in his chair, call the church office and say, ‘The priest, the priest.’ When I visited, he would demand: ‘Confession. Communion. Last Rites.’

“In the two years I knew him,” Father Magee continued, “that was the only conversation I had with him, and yet it was a beautiful encounter with a man who always wanted to be reconciled to the Lord.”

Not much is known about Larry except that at the end of his life, his memory, senses and body were spent. He could only communicate rudimentarily. But again and again, he reached for mercy given in the sacraments, a sinner asking for forgiveness and reunion with the God who saves. He knew what mattered, and he bore witness to faithfulness not measured in eloquence or deeds but in perseverance, as St. Paul infers in 2 Timothy 4:7, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”

Father Magee reminded his listeners that they were there to pray for Larry.

“The Paschal candle is lit twice in a person’s life,” he explained. “Once at their Baptism, and once at their funeral. As a baptized Catholic, Larry has a right to a funeral Mass, and as a Catholic community, we pray for him as we say our final farewell.”

His funeral is an act of mercy, one of the Church’s most tender corporal works of mercy. To bury the dead is to insist, quietly and nobly, that every life matters, even when few seem to notice. Faithful to the end, a man who to the world was abandoned and alone, died a member of the Body of Christ, in friendship with Jesus.

Lastly, Father Magee completed the funeral rite, incensing the casket, symbolizing the prayers of the faithful rising to Heaven on Larry’s behalf. Behind the casket, the Paschal candle burns steadily as Larry’s earthly remains depart St. Stephen’s amid the sound of a congregation singing the familiar words of O Come All Ye Faithful.

Indeed, hope did not disappoint.

Larry will be cremated and his remains interred in the Crypt of All Souls at Mount Olivet Cemetery in Wheat Ridge, a ministry of the Archdiocese of Denver.