Rising to New Life - Funeral Homily (Ezekiel 37:12-14; Romans 6:3-9; John 11:32-45)

*In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.*

Dear family and friends, we gather today in faith, even as we bear the weight of sorrow. In these moments of grief, we come together to entrust our beloved [Name] to God's infinite mercy and love.

The Church surrounds us today with Scripture passages that speak directly to our hearts in times of loss. These sacred texts remind us that even in death, we are not abandoned. Even in our deepest grief, we are not without hope.

In our first reading from the prophet Ezekiel, we heard the Lord's promise: "O my people, I will open your graves and have you rise from them... I will put my spirit in you that you may live." These words were first spoken to the people of Israel during their exile, when all seemed lost. Yet God promised not abandonment but restoration—not an ending but a new beginning.

This promise finds its fulfillment in Christ Jesus. As St. Paul reminds us in the Letter to the Romans, "We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life." Through baptism, [Name] was united with Christ in a bond that not even death can break. Death does not have the final word for those who belong to Christ.

And in the Gospel, we witness Jesus himself standing before the tomb of his friend Lazarus. "Jesus wept," the shortest verse in Scripture, reveals to us a profound truth—our Lord understands human grief. He weeps with those who weep. He stands with us in our sorrow. Yet Jesus does more than weep—he commands, "Lazarus, come out!" And death must obey the Author of Life.

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[Name]'s life was a testament to faith lived in ordinary moments. Though we mourn today, we also give thanks for the gift that [Name] was to each of us. In the tapestry of [Name]'s life, we can see threads of God's grace woven throughout—in moments of kindness, in acts of generosity, in quiet perseverance through difficulties.

Like all of us, [Name] was baptized into Christ's death and resurrection. In that sacred moment, [Name] began a journey of faith that continues even now, beyond our sight but not beyond God's loving embrace. For what St. Paul tells us is true—"if we have died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with him."

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The raising of Lazarus that we heard in today's Gospel points us toward something even greater—Christ's own resurrection, which is the foundation of our hope today. When Jesus stood before his friend's tomb and called him forth, it was a sign of what was to come. Lazarus would die again, but Jesus was revealing his power over death itself, a power that would be fully manifest in his own resurrection.

This is our faith: that Christ has conquered death not just for himself, but for all who belong to him. As he promised through the prophet Ezekiel, "I will put my spirit in you that you may live." This is not merely returning to earthly life, as Lazarus did. This is the promise of eternal life in God's presence.

When Jesus saw Mary weeping for her brother, he was "troubled in spirit, moved by the deepest emotions." Our Lord is not distant from our grief. He draws near to the brokenhearted. He stands with us at the tombs of those we love.

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To you, the family and friends of [Name], I offer the Church's consolation. Your grief is real, and it is honored in this sacred space. Jesus himself shows us that tears are not a sign of weak faith but of deep love. Yet even as we acknowledge this pain, we look beyond it to the promise of resurrection.

St. Paul reminds us, "We know that Christ, raised from the dead, dies no more; death no longer has power over him." This is the destiny promised to [Name] and to all who are baptized into Christ. Death appears to have power in this moment, but we proclaim a different reality—that through Christ, death has been conquered.

Our Catholic faith teaches us that we remain connected to [Name] through the Communion of Saints. Death changes the relationship but does not end it. We continue to love [Name], to pray for [Name], and to believe that one day we shall see [Name] again.

In times of grief, we often search for meaning, for answers to the question "why?" The Scriptures do not offer simple explanations for the mystery of suffering and death. Instead, they offer us the presence of a God who enters into our suffering, who transforms it from within, and who promises that it will not have the final word.

As we prepare to commend [Name] to God's mercy, we do so with faith in the One who said, "I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if they die, will live." We entrust [Name] to the God who formed [Name] in the womb, who called [Name] by name in baptism, and who now receives [Name] with a love stronger than death.

We pray that [Name] may now experience the fullness of what we all hope for—to see God face to face, to be embraced by divine mercy, to hear those blessed words, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

Let us find comfort in our faith and in one another as we continue this journey of grief and hope. May the God of all consolation strengthen us in these difficult days and remind us that love is stronger than death.

May the soul of [Name], and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.