Homily, given by Father Floyd Gallant

Reggie’s life and the manner of his death have raised a lot of questions for us over the past weeks.  Certainly, these questions have lived with his family and friends for some years now, but they’ve surfaced more forcefully over the past weeks.

One of the big spiritual questions which comes to light here is: Where is God in the midst of addictions?  Was there something that Reggie could have done more then he did to overcome his addiction?  Is he at fault?  Is God?  Surely there must be someone to blame in the middle of such a tragedy?  Isn’t that what justice is?  Surely someone must be accountable? 

Whenever people have spoken about Reggie over the past weeks, that has been the common thread which has bound the conversations.... isn’t it a shame.   When life seemingly held so many possibilities for freedom, isn’t it a shame that it was so captured and ensnared.    And of course all of us would agree.  It would have been a fuller life with a greater degree of freedom.   But, and this I’ve recently come to see, is that the “isn’t it a shame mentality” is precisely part of the problem.  Reggie was a prolific writer, with a tremendous capacity to identify his feelings and put words on them.  If you get a chance to read some of his writings, you may come to understand that the fear, suspicion and hopelessness which made up his life were partly a result of the system he was forced to live within.

But, rather on only focusing on what might have been for Reggie, on the “what if’s”,  I’m wondering if we would do ourselves some help by focusing on the positives of his life.  Sure, there was a lot of pain and heartache, disappointments and fear... but that was not the totality of his story.  And, in fact, if the truth be told, that’s not what God saw...

God says: Blessed are the poor in spirit.... theirs  is the kingdom of God.  Blessed are the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers, the persecuted.   What God sees is the brokenness of his beloved creatures... and desires not judgement, but healing, not retribution, but freedom.   If that is true... and as a Christian family we believe that it is... then what do you think God says to Reggie... Honestly, what does the God in whom you believe say to Reggie....  Does God say... you suffered intensely here, you will suffer forever?  Or...does God say?  “Your suffering is over... welcome into the peace of your eternal home?”   The God in whom I place my trust is the One who’s Son’s suffering paved the way for peace... who’s dying paved the way for life.

I’m left with this gnawing at the pit of my stomach, however.   And I think its got to do how Reggie’s death affects those who are left.  His family, his friends, his community...all of us.

You see, Reggie longed to be normal, to be treated as a normal person.  Yet, so often, when we think or talk about people with addictions, we tend to lump them together as a group, depersonalizing each person, not willing to enter into their story, simply wishing they wouldn’t disturb us with their addiction.   We tend to put them off in a corner somewhere, hoping we can avoid them, and the way they remind us that our lives are very frail, and not as much in our control as we’d like to think.  

Today, at eucharist, when we eat and drink in memory of Jesus, let us pledge ourselves once again to see others as God sees...  And in particular let us pledge ourselves to see first, not the addict, but the person behind the addiction.   For its only when we approach each other as brothers and sisters, not as better than or worse than, but brothers and sisters, broken and in need of healing all of us, that true compassion can be released on the world.  

I want to extend to Reggie’s family, his children, his parents and brothers and your families, our sincerest sympathy.  We continue to carry Reggie in our prayer as we do you.  And we pledge that Reggie’s life and death will move us to always see the person behind the addiction, to see as God sees.   May God bless you.