Life is Changed, Not Ended
Homily for the Rite of Christian Burial of Sr. Mary Mark Segvich, OSF
We gather today with hearts carrying both grief and gratitude. Grief, because someone we love is no longer physically with us. Gratitude, because her life touched ours in ways that will never fade. Those of you gathered with us yesterday afternoon to share memories of Sr. Mary Mark remembered her as a woman who exemplified the joy that is the distinctive mark of the joyful Gospel, the Evangelium Gaudium, which Pope Francis and Pope Leo XIV have made a point of being a touchstone of our Catholic faith.
As Sr. Mary Elizabeth mentioned yesterday, the sisters write down their funeral preferences for when they step through the door that we call death into a new life that is promised to those who have put their faith in Jesus. Yesterday, we sang several different songs that Sister Mary Mark suggested for both the wake service and for the Rite of Christian burial. The Scriptures chosen for today’s Eucharist were also her choices and speak with the quiet, steady confidence that was so evident in her life. Her choices help us to express our gratitude as well as our grief.
The reading from the Book of Wisdom assures us that the souls of the just are in the hands of God. It acknowledges that from the outside, death may look like utter destruction. However, God sees differently. What feels like an ending to us is, in God’s eyes, a moment of transformation – a point made strongly in the Preface to the Eucharistic Prayer which speaks of a life changed rather than ended. The goodness that was so much a part of Sister Mary Mark’s life was very real. Indeed, she was tested and was found worthy. Such a life teaches us that a person’s character is revealed in the quiet choices they make – how they treat others, how they show up, how they love. Sr. Mary Mark has passed through the trials of life with the grace that now finds its fulfillment in God.
Psalm 23, our response to the readings today, does not deny that life can sometimes be a valley of shadows. However, the psalmist refuses to let the valley of shadows have the last word. God walks with us we are told. God also leads us and restores us. Sr. Mary Mark trusted that presence in her life, and now, the Shepherd who guided her in life welcomes her into rest. For those of us who remain, the Psalm becomes a reminder that grief is not a place where we walk alone.
The reading from St. Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians speaks about a love that is demanding rather than sentimental. Patience, kindness, humility, and a willingness to bear all things are some of the choices that each of us must make if we choose to love one another as Jesus has loved us. Sr. Mary Mark’s love for us has shaped this community, and St. Paul reminds us that this love never ends. This means that while she may have gone on before us, her love for us is still present in our midst today.
The Gospel text for today is the famous judgment scene from the 25th chapter of St. Matthew’s Gospel, in which we hear Jesus tell us that whenever we care for the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the sick, or the imprisoned, we care for Him. It is a startling teaching; holiness is not hidden in the clouds – it is found in our compassion for those Jesus refers to as the least and it is found in compassion. Sr. Mary Mark noticed people; she helped quietly; she gave without keeping score. She did all this because she realized that in doing it for the least in our midst she was doing it for Jesus.
We refer to the actions described in Matthew’s judgment scene as the corporal works of mercy. Mercy is the heartbeat of Matthew 25. Indeed, Matthew’s Gospel paints a vivid picture of the final judgment, but the focus is not fear — it is recognition. Jesus reveals that every act of compassion, every moment of tenderness, every time we respond to human need, we encounter Him. These actions are not abstract ideals. They are the concrete ways love becomes visible.
Sr. Mary Mark lived mercy in ways that mattered through the quiet, steady habit of noticing people. Mercy is not pity; mercy is love that bends down to lift another. It is love that refuses to look away. It is love that sees Christ in the person right in front of us.
And here is the astonishing promise: Jesus tells us that every act of mercy is remembered. Nothing is lost. Nothing is wasted. Every kindness becomes part of the fabric of eternity. So, when we commend Sr. Mary Mark to God today, we do so knowing that the mercy she practiced is now the mercy she receives — the mercy of a God who welcomes, who forgives, who embraces.
Mercy is, if you will, the engine of reconciliation, something that our world needs desperately just now. Reconciliation doesn’t happen because two sides suddenly agree, or because wounds magically disappear. It happens because someone chooses to move first — to soften, to forgive, to reach out. That movement is mercy. It is what breaks the stalemate. It is what interrupts the cycle. It is what creates the space where healing can begin. Without mercy, reconciliation stalls. With mercy, reconciliation becomes possible — even between people who have hurt each other, even within families, even within our own hearts.
Our sister understood this. Her kindness wasn’t passive; it moved toward people. It bridged gaps. It healed misunderstandings. It made others feel seen and valued. That is mercy at work — mercy as the engine that keeps love moving forward. Sr. Mary Mark understood this in a way that was quiet but unmistakable. Her kindness wasn’t passive; it moved toward people. She fed others with her generosity. She satisfied their thirst with her concern for them. She welcomed others with the warmth of her joyful presence. She visited the lonely simply by showing up.
So today, as we commend our sister to God, we do so with confidence. The mercy she practiced in this life is now the mercy she receives — the mercy of a God who welcomes, who forgives, who embraces. Perhaps the best way to honor Sr. Mary Mark’s memory is to let that same mercy become the engine of reconciliation in our own lives, healing what is broken, restoring what has been strained, and drawing us closer to one another and to God. Then we too can be confidant that we will see her once again when we pass through the door of death and are transformed.
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