Accomplished, adventurous, of strong character, deeply committed to God, marriage and family, and quite simply delightful: these are some of the words which occurred to me as I pondered the family eulogy on Maud McGuire. She comes across as a force to be reckoned with in her day and I have no doubt that her husband Mick and all the family benefited hugely from that fact, as did many others, I am quite sure. As a boy growing up in Ardrossan, I do remember, despite the fog, visiting the McGuire home in Winton Street. Kevin was in my class at St. Peter’s Primary and he reminds me that he got me to visit his home on one occasion to sing the Ave Maria to his mum! I can’t be sure that I was ever invited back again after that! When I visited Maud in Haylie House, I reminded her of it, though I’m not sure if her silent response was a case of selective deafness! Who could blame her?

In recent days, it has been lovely to see how the family have shown their love for their mum and how the bonds between them speak volumes about Maud’s own strength of motherhood and the strength it has imparted to them. The hand that rocked their cradle may no longer be warm, but the love that moved it continues to give them comfort even though it has moved from earth to heaven. It is our fervent prayer and hope that Maud and Mike can once again beat as one heart in the peace of the Kingdom and help prepare the way for the rest of the family to follow in God’s good time.

And that’s just it, isn’t it? Our loved ones who have died are in reality only dead in the body. When Jesus says to the good thief, “today you will be with me in paradise”, that promise was fulfilled in the moment the soldiers broke the good thief’s legs to hasten death. The today of death became the today of Paradise. Death ushers us into Paradise if we die, as the good thief did, asking Jesus to forgive and to remember us. Maud died, we can safely surmise, not only asking Jesus to remember her, but with the Risen Body and Blood of Jesus himself in her heart, soul and body, by virtue of the many Holy Communions she received. We can even say that, because of the Eucharist, Paradise was already in her. As Jesus said, “whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life.” What death did was, we can surely hope, to reveal that sublime truth to her in its fullness. Death unveiled heaven for her as surely as it veiled her from us. We no longer see her face, but she sees the Face of God.

To Christ, all men and women are alive, whether or not they are dead to us. And if that is so, then to the degree that we are ourselves one with Christ, in communion with Christ, we remain in true, living communion with all who are now with Christ in Paradise and on earth. The Eucharist draws us into a communion which bridges mortal earth and immortal heaven. That is why we who believe in Christ do not mourn as do the pagans who have no hope. In some very real way, we rejoice for the one who has died believing in Jesus because they have now reached the fulfilment of their faith and hope. It is a deep joy which resides in the most noble depths of our hearts, even if in terms of sentiment and affection we experience the grief of loss and separation. What for us is loss and separation are gain and union with God for the believer who has died. Knowing this tempers our sorrow because, even in bereavement, we can selflessly share in their joy in eternal life, in communion with all who are with Christ in heaven. They have taken their seat at the great banquet on the mountain of God, of which Isaiah speaks in our first reading. There are no mourning veils in heaven.

All of this tells us that earth and heaven are not two separate dimensions, unrelated and disconnected. If at any moment we are able to ask for God’s help it can only be because God is very near. In fact, we need only think of Him, and He knows it. Our entire lives lie open to Him no matter if we play games by hiding our heads in the sands of our own concerns, ideas and wilfulness. We may think we can function apart from God, hidden from Him, but that is an illusion which our own sinfulness invents to justify doing what we like. And this ever-present and all-knowing God is not thus so as to spoil our fun or limit our freedom or self-expression. On the contrary, He is always there to do what He can to help us find our true freedom and fulfilment. His law is not our enemy, but our friend. It is we who are our own worst enemies. He is more interested in our happiness and peace than we are. All He asks is that we give Him a chance to let Him love us and lead us to Paradise.

Maud lived her long life in a way that was as transparent to God as she could make it. Like us all, she will have had her moments of weakness, sin and failure, but I have no doubt that she turned these into opportunities to return to the Lord with even greater devotion. Christ died for her sins, as he died for those of all of us, so that grace might conquer and win through to Paradise in the end. She will also have had her sufferings as a woman, wife, mother and Christian. But, as St. Paul tells us, the weight of suffering in this life is incomparable with the weight of eternal glory which awaits us.

We let Maud go now to God only so that we can have her back again when our turn comes to travel beyond the veil of mortality to the Kingdom of light and peace. Sadness will give way to joy, a joy that will never again be broken by separation or death. May the Lord be merciful to her and let the light of His Face shine upon her for the eternity of eternities, world without end. Amen.