Processional: City of God
Awake from your slumber!
Arise from your sleep!
A new day is dawning
for all those who weep.
The people in darkness
have seen a great light.
The Lord of our longing
has conquered the night.
REFRAIN
Let us build a city of God.
May our tears be turned into dancing!
For our Lord, our light and our love,
has turned the night into day!
We are sons of the morning;
we are daughters of day.
The One who has loved us
has brightened our way.
The Lord of all kindness
has called us to be
a light for his people
to set their hearts free.
REFRAIN
Opening Prayer
First Reading: Isaiah 25:6a, 7-9 (Thomas M. Gardner)
A Reading from the book of the prophet Isaiah
On this mountain the Lord of hosts
Will provide for all peoples.
On this mountain he will destroy
The veil that veils all peoples,
The web that is woven over all nations;
He will destroy death forever.
The Lord God will wipe away
The tears from all faces;
The reproach of his people he will remove
From the whole earth; for the Lord has spoken.
On that day it will be said:
"Behold our God, to whom we looked to save us!
This is the Lord for whom we looked;
Let us rejoice and be glad that he has saved us!"
The Word of the Lord.
ALL: Thanks be to God.
Responsorial Psalm: You Are Mine
REFRAIN (ALL)
Do not be afraid, I am with you
I have called you each by name
Come and follow me, I will bring you home
I love you and you are mine
1. I will come to you in the silence,
I will lift you from all your fear.
You will hear my voice,
I claim you as my choice
be still and know I am here.
REFRAIN
2. I am hope for all who are hopeless,
I am eyes for all who long to see,
In the shadows of the night,
I will be your light,
come and rest in me.
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3. I am strength for all the despairing,
Healing for the ones who dwell in shame.
All the blind will see,
the lame will all run free,
and all will know my name.
REFRAIN
4. I am the Word that leads all to freedom,
I am the peace the world cannot give.
I will call your name,
embracing all your pain
stand up, now walk, and live!
REFRAIN
Second Reading: Paul 5:1, 6-10 (William Rooney)
A Reading from the second letter of Paul to the Corinthians.
We know that if our earthly dwelling, a tent, should be destroyed, we have a building from God, a dwelling not made with hands, eternal in heaven.
So we are always courageous, although we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yet we are courageous, and we would rather leave the body and go home to the Lord. Therefore, we aspire to please him, whether we are at home or away. For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive recompense, according to what he did in the body, whether good or evil.
The Word of the Lord.
ALL: Thanks be to God.
Gospel Acclamation
ALL: Praise to your Lord Jesus Christ, King of Endless Glory!
Gospel: Matthew 5:1-12
Homily: (Rev. Joseph L. Coffey)
Prayers of the Faithful: Dorothy Rooney
Father in Heaven hear us and grant our petitions.
RESPONSE: Lord, hear our prayer
For our beloved wife and mother, Catharine, who was given the promise of eternal life in Baptism. We pray to the Lord. (RESPONSE)
For Catharine's family, who thank Almighty God for the love and beautiful memories she has given them. Though they mourn, they are comforted knowing she will rest in peace in the Kingdom of God where every tear has been wiped away. We pray to the Lord. (RESPONSE)
In memory of her children, Laura and Frank, who now share eternal life and happiness with their mother. We pray to the Lord. (RESPONSE)
We remember especially our deceased relatives and friends who have been called to the Kingdom of God. We pray to the Lord. (RESPONSE)
For the poor, the homeless, the lonely, and the depressed that they may find comfort and joy during this Holy Lenten season. We pray to the Lord. (RESPONSE)
For all Catharine's friends, whose lives she enriched so deeply and who are gathered here today in remembrance of her life. We pray to the Lord. (RESPONSE)
Eternal rest grant unto her, oh Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon her. Amen.
Presentation of Gifts
(Catharine M. Gardner, Mary Virginia Gardner, Adrienne M. Gardner,
Barbara A. Dolhansky)
I Am the Bread of Life
I am the Bread of life.
You who come to me shall not hunger;
and he who believes in me shall not thirst,
No one can come to me
unless the Father beckons.
REFRAIN
And I will raise you up,
and I will raise you up
and I will raise you up on the last day.
The bread that I will give
is my flesh for the life of the world,
and if you eat of this bread,
you shall live forever,
you shall live forever.
REFRAIN
Unless you eat
of the flesh of the Son of Man
and drink of his blood,
and drink of his blood,
you shall not have life within you
REFRAIN
Memorial Acclamation: Sung
Great Amen: Sung
Sign of Peace
Lamb of God: Sung
Communion Hymns:
Panis Angelicus
Panis angelicus, fit panis hominum,
Dat panis caelicus figuris terminum.
O res mirabilus manducat Dominum,
Pauper, servus, et humilis.
Mother Dear, O Pray for Me
Mother dear, O pray for me! While far from heav'n and thee
I wander in a fragile bark o'er life's tempestuous sea,
O Virgin Mother, from your throne, so bright in bliss above,
Protect your child and cheer my path with your sweet smile of love.
Mother dear, remember me and never cease your care,
Till in heaven eternally, your love and bliss I share.
Eulogy
Elizabeth M. Gardner
Frank R. Gardner
Recessional: How Great Thou Art
O Lord, my God! When I in awesome wonder
consider all the worlds thy hands have made.
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder.
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.
REFRAIN
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee;
How great thou art, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee;
How great thou art, how great thou art.
When through the woods and forest glades I wander
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;
When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur
And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze.
REFRAIN
And when I think that God, his Son not sparing
sent him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the cross, my burden gently bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.
REFRAIN
When Christ shall come with shouts of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then I shall bow in humble adoration and there
proclaim My God, how great thou art!
REFRAIN
REFLECTIONS
When I was in the 8th grade, I was sent down to the Vice Principal's office one day for misbehaving in class. This is unremarkable in and of itself, because, up to that time, my entire "academic career" was merely a cover for my actual occupation: an apprenticeship as a petty-troublemaker. I had potential in overplus in the latter area--I was a natural, in fact--but up to this point had manifested exactly zero potential in the area of academic achievement. So between bouts of not learning anything, I passed most of my school days in being reprimanded in one way or another; which is why it should come as more of a surprise to find out that I did not have my own endowed chair in the disciplinary antechamber of the Vice Principal's office than to learn that I did. After all, if anyone had earned his own chair in that Place of Shame, it was me. (Or, as my mother would correct me, "it was I.") But in fact I did not have my own chair--and to this day, I don't have a clue what more I would have to have done to have earned one.
My parents, not being complete idiots, were well aware of my lackluster school performance, which commenced in first grade and continued up to this day in 8th grade when I was sent to the Vice Principal's office (and continued beyond, I might add). How could they not have known? I had certainly been obliged to bring home enough notes from teachers describing in detail my lunk&endash;headedly blatant misdeeds--whole rain forests had given their lives that there might be sufficient paper to keep my parents apprised of my scholastic transgressions; and even if I had had the guts to "lose" the notes (which I did not) there were those quarterly Narc Charts...what were they called? Ah, yes! Report Cards! And my mother, being a teacher, was not only aware of these, she knew exactly when they came out--so they couldn't just be burned and forgotten with the ease of a common draft card. A "D minus" in Conduct would have to be explained sooner or later; better to prepare the ol' parental units incrementally, note&endash;by&endash;note, week&endash;by&endash;week, than spring it on them suddenly with that unavoidable quarterly Report Card and just hope that the "D minus" in Conduct got lost amidst all the other D minuses and F's that I was getting in individual subjects. "They can't really key on a D minus as long as there's an 'F' there, can they?" thought I in my inimitably lunk&endash;headed way. Lucky for me, there were always enough "F"s to serve as camouflage--or so you would have thought. It just never quite worked out that way.
A word to the wise: if you're trying to avoid being seen, don't hide behind an "F", especially if your mother's a teacher. It won't work. That's the first place she'll look. (Behind the "D Minuses" is the second.) I suspect a load of "A"s and "B"s would have provided much better camouflage, but at that point in my life I had no firsthand knowledge of how to get an "A" or a "B", much less what kind of ground cover they might provide.
Why does this one instance of being sent to the VP's office stand out among so many (and there were many)? I don't remember exactly why my teacher sent me to the VP's office that day, but if you'd asked my mother, she would have remembered; because when she came to the next parent/teacher conference and learned from my teacher what it was that had caused him to throw me out of class and send me to the VP's office (where I was very nearly suspended; I was saved from that ignominy only because I had, inexplicably, never been suspended before)--she thought the provocation insufficient to warrant the extremity of that punishment.
In other words, she defended me. I had misbehaved, and I did deserve to be disciplined, but I did not deserve the harsh punishment that had been meted out to me. And I watched from afar, in amazement, as my mother--who had no delusions about my behavior in school--defended me. Even I thought I was not worth defending.
But my mother thought I was.
I remember getting into long arguments with my mother every time Report Cards came out, with her telling me: "Tom, you know you can do much better than this; you're not stupid!" and with me turning the tables on her, using the Report Card as exhibit "A" in my defense, and saying "Mom, perhaps you missed all the D's and F's and C's here? I am stupid and I have this here card to prove it."
It took me at least another three years from that time in 8th grade for me to figure out that my mother was right. I was not stupid. There were teachers who saw potential in me and teachers who did not, but one person who, from the very start, saw my full potential was my mother. She knew my abilities better than I did. And she realized I would never be happy unless I reached my potential. A's and B's were no more the point than D's and F's were: the point was what would lead to my ultimate happiness in life. In 8th grade I would have fought to the death the proposition that my natural path to happiness would be one that took me through college and many years of graduate school. At that time, I thought the road to happiness for me was the road that bypassed as much of schooling as possible.
But now I can't imagine a path that would have made me happier than the one I took--the only one that could have led me to my wife, Adrienne, and, further on, to my little boy, Ian. The ride was bumpy at times, but my mother was there to see me through the rough patches. And the reason I took that road and stayed that course had everything to do with my mother's dogged determination to see me happy.
I am not the only little boy whose path in life was pointed out by Catharine McMahon Gardner. She was a teacher; she had students whose potential only she could see. She inspired and directed them, as she did me--as she did my whole family. All--all--of us could tell you stories of how my mother did this. She helped people; that is what she did. She asked nothing in return, and, to my shame, nothing is, all&endash;too&endash;frequently, exactly what she got.
But I know she took pleasure in the fact that I was, and am, a happy human being. Content beyond words in my life as it is. My mother gave me this.
I stand before you today a man more content in his life than anyone I know of. Because of my family, and because of my mother and father in particular, I can say even during this time of ineffable personal grief, that I have a life to fall back on that makes me happy; it is the life that was meant for me. It is a life that partakes of my mother, and as long as I have that life, I will have her.
For it is a life I could not have had but for my mother.
Ecce Puer
(Adapted from the Poem by James Joyce)
Of the dark past
A boy is born
With joy and grief
My heart is torn
Calm in his crib
My Ian lies
May love and mercy
Unclose his eyes
Young life is breathed
Upon the glass
The world that is not
Comes to pass
A child is sleeping
A woman gone
O, mother forsaken
Forgive your son!
Memorare
Remember Oh most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection, implored your help, or sought your intercession, was unaided. Inspired by this confidence, I fly unto you O Virgins of virgins, My Mother. To you I come; before you I stand sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate! Despise not my petitions, but in your mercy hear and answer me. Amen.
An Irish Blessing
May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
May the rains fall soft upon your fields.
And, until we meet again
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
As you know, my mother was a teacher. So, as a tribute to her teaching style, could you please turn to the last page of your Mass book? I'm going to begin her Eulogy with a prayer, the Memorare. Please recite it along with me.
Memorare
Remember Oh most gracious Virgin Mary that never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection, implored your help, or sought your intercession was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, I fly unto you Oh Virgins of Virgins, My Mother. To you I come, before you I stand sinful and sorrowful. Oh mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in your mercy hear and answer me. Amen.
The Memorare was my Mother's favorite prayer. She taught it to me over ten years ago and now it has become my favorite prayer too. When I tell you how I learned the Memorare, you'll understand two very important things: you'll understand what my mother's faith in God meant to her and how she passed that faith onto me. My first year of graduate school was one of the most difficult times of my life. I had no idea that I would be faced with such challenges--the most insurmountable being my lack of self-confidence. What was I, a scientist, doing among a family of philosophers and literary types? What would make me think that I could ever attain a Ph.D. in Biochemistry of all things? My mother recognized this and immediately became my crutch. I leaned on her like no one else, and as selfless as she was, she let me. She said it was my crucible, that if I could get through this, I could get through anything. And she spent countless hours listening to me. She never complained through my tears and my temper. Her belief in me was solid and unwavering. She knew I could achieve any goal I set out to accomplish-period. Every time I said I wanted to quit, that I wasn't smart enough, she would say in a very firm voice, like we have all heard: Liz you can't be stupid! Look at how smart your father is. But more importantly, look at me! I'm much smarter than he is! Trust me, I know these things! Your problem isn't that you are not intelligent, it's that you don't have faith in yourself or in God! Faith will get you through anything. And it was at that point that my mom gave me a crash course in faith. And it is a lesson that I have never forgotten.
My mother taught me about faith during this tumultuous time through subtle persuasion-that was her way. One day during my first year of graduate school, I was in church with her and she was intently looking at the back of her missal. I could see she was reading a prayer and I said to her: Mom, what prayer are you saying? And she said it's the Memorare. And then she explained that it's a prayer you recite not because you want something, but because you need strength during times of despair. And I gave her this look like yea right. And she said and I know that it works because I have been saying the Memorare for you since you started graduate school. Why do you think you are doing so well, despite yourself? She said, you should learn it and left it at that. I remember saying to myself like I have time to learn this prayer. I have more important things to do--do you know how many steps there are in fatty acid metabolism? From then on, every time I complained and said I couldn't continue school, she went through her usual pep talk and at the end, made me memorize another line of the Memorare. By the spring, I had the prayer down pat, but I still couldn't tell you a thing about fatty acid metabolism!
So, she had accomplished goal number one: to teach me the Memorare as a way to strengthen my faith in God and in myself. Now, it was on to goal two: to teach me that if I had real, solid faith, I could rely on prayer in times of desperation. How did she achieve goal number two? On the day of my preliminary oral exam, I was at my mom's and, of course, I was beside myself. There was no way I was going to pass. As usual, Mom listened calmly, gave me a kiss, wished me luck, and then she said as I walked out the door: Have faith. Remember, I taught you the Memorare. I walked into the examination room and immediately stumbled on the first question. I was frazzled. But then suddenly a sense of calm came over me and I looked up to the sky and saidÉ. Remember oh most gracious Virgin Mary, got the answer correct, and the rest as they say, is history.
I now realize that the important lesson wasn't so much in learning the prayer per say, but actually learning what the prayer symbolized. By teaching me the Memorare, Mom helped me understand the gift of faith, which up until that point, I had not understood, and therefore, could not fully accept. More importantly, I clearly recognized how important my mother's faith was to her, which in turn, solidified my belief in God. Last week, I saw the most concrete example of just how strong my mother's faith in God was. The doctor told me that as they were preparing my mother for her second surgery within 24 hr, she kept mouthing something that they couldn't understand. She motioned for a piece of paper and wrote the word "Priest". So, her faith in God never wavered, despite all her pain and suffering.
So, I thank my mother for giving me this gift of faith, for making me understand it, in a way that no one else could. It is this faith in God and in her that will give me comfort now that she is gone. And it is this faith in God that will sustain me until we meet again.
And the gift of faith would have been more than enough, but she gave me so much more for which I never thanked her. So here goesÉ Mother, thank you for loving me unconditionally and without hesitation. Thank you for being my best friend, my confident, and my companion. Thank you for spending so much time with me, even when I wasn't the easiest person to be around. Thank you for being a great traveling companion, who taught me so much about different cultures, history, and religion. Thank you for your wit, wisdom, strength, and kindness. Thank you for teaching me how important it is to be loyal to your family and friends. Thank you for teaching me to help those who are less fortunate. And thank you for all the great memories I have of you. I am so proud that you were my mother. And one more thing, Mom,
May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again, my dear, sweet Mother,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.
I can recall the first day that I met Kay. It was on a blind date. From the first moment when I met her, I knew I wanted to marry her. It wasn't merely her extreme good looks, it was her whole personality. She was completely without pretension and she said exactly what she felt.
I can recall the first day I proposed. We left her New York home to go across the river to Pallisades Park. We took a ride on the roller coaster and in the midst of the ride, Kay lost her purse with some money in it. After the ride, I went into the area where I thought the purse fell. I was scared to death. The coaster cars were whirling around and I was hopping over the wooden structure wondering if I would come out alive. By some miracle, I saw the purse and when I gave it to her I said "Now will you marry me?" All she said was I will think about it.
Two months later, with the help of her mother, she said yes. I was walking on clouds. After 51 years of married life, I was still walking on clouds, until a few days ago.
Over the course of our marriage, we had difficulties. But through it all, Kay was a tremendous help and support. For 23 years, she taught in the public schools and still ran the household with seven children and without much help.
Happily, we had a fair sized house with a great backyard. We had an Olympics of our own going on in the backyard. Kay would join in on the baseball games or in the badminton games. She was an enthusiastic participant. I can recall one day when the boys had a football game going on in the backyard. I drove up with Kay in the car. Kay saw that our Tom was carrying the ball through the line. Three or four tacklers were trying to stop him. Kay got out of the car and shouted "Stop doing that to that child!" In shock, the tacklers released their grip and Tom scored a touchdown!
There were good times, but there were bad times. Through it all, Kay was strong. We lost Frank at the age of 30 and Laura at the age of 47. Kay was a tower of strength to me through those losses. We both knew that God wanted them and that they are in His care. Kay had a devote faith in this and it strengthened me. Happily, we have five other children who are very much alive. Our mutual love caused us to survive these blows.
Laura had a son, Jude. He was our first grandchild and the first great grandson of my parents.
Tom and Adrienne have a one year old son, Ian Francis. We are all madly in love with him. I am grateful that Kay lived to see and love him.
We have been stricken by the loss of our mainstay, wife and mother. She will be with us in our prayers and in our memories. However, we still have a bond of love among us all to strengthen us in the way Kay would want.
Rest in peace, Kay.
There are many reasons that a parish becomes a community of the faithful- some of them quite obvious, others more obscure We all recognize for the most part, the value of the work of the clergy and religious; We are gratified by the work of volunteers and the organizations which they represent. But there are more silent parishioners who give of themselves, their time, treasure and talent unstintingly and who often go unrecognized by the rest of us. One such parishioner is Rose Greco, a true example of the steward at work.
If you have ever noticed the beautiful altar cloths decorated with exquisite lace borders, on the main and side altars, you are seeing first hand the handiwork of Rose Greco. It is she who is solely responsible for these lovely adornments in the sanctuary.
Rose spent most of her life at the orphanage of St. Vincent which was run by the Sisters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul. She loved both the orphanage and the nuns and can tell many stories of all that she learned while there. It was at the orphanage that she began sewing at the age of nine. Her first completed project was clothes for a doll. A career was in the making though she did not realize it at the time. She is almost completely self-taught and continued to learn the intricacies of fine needlework.
She returned to her family when things were better. Her widowed mother had remarried to a fine man:. Unfortunately, she had to leave the l0th grade to go to work. It was the depression era and she worked to help support the family. From then on she worked at different factories, of which there were many in Philadelphia at that time, doing piece work in sewing and learning the various facets that led to her becoming a skilled needlewoman.
The work on the altar cloths came about in this way. Rose and her husband had become parishioners in the parish. When he became ill, the priests of St. Katherine supported, prayed with and gave solace to both of them: After his death, Rose wanted to do something special and in his memory, made and donated altar cloths to the parish.
Today when many retired people are relaxing and resting on their laurels, Rose is busy as she always has been. She continues to sew (which she has made into an art) and makes beautiful clothes which are true works of a master craftswoman.
Tip: To all neophytes who would wish to emulate her, words of advice from Rose and I quote, "Preparation is everything and the most difficult part. The sewing itself doesn't take that long." I'll take your word for that, Rose.
Submitted by Bill Rooney