Homily

Readings: Isaiah 55:1-13; 2 Cor 4:5-18; John 12:20-26

In Loving Memory: Philip J. Murnion, Presbyter of the Church in New York



A few short months ago, many of us were gathered in this same church for the celebration of the Eucharist by Monsignor Philip Murnion on the occasion of the 40th anniversary of his ordination to the priesthood.

It was a time, an occasion of heartfelt rejoicing; yet one already tinged with sorrow, for those who knew the gravity of his illness. Today, we are gathered again for this funeral liturgy in heartfelt sorrow; yet, in our faith, in the faith we witnessed in Philip Murnion, joy is by no means absent: for his words spoken at his anniversary Eucharist still echo in our ears: "Praise God! Thank God!"

It was as though, having spoken and written tens of thousands of words in the course of his ministry, he had distilled them to the essential: "Praise God! Thank God!"

You remember: At the anniversary Mass Philip invited all to join him in praise, by singing a verse from the hymn "Praise God from whom all blessings flow." He invites us today to join with him again in praise of our gracious and merciful God:

Praise God from whom all blessings flow;
Praise him all creatures here below.
Praise him above you heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Philip Murnion was ordained in 1963: for forty years he was a member of the presbyterate of the Church in New York -- so he identified himself in his anniversary homily. He was ordained on the eve of the second session of Vatican II: that epochal ecclesial event. Both as seminarian and as priest, Philip was fully committed to the Council, to its pastoral and theological renewal. He was ever a man of the Church/ a man of the Council. He enthusiastically embraced and intelligently appropriated the Council's two-fold rhythm:

a) its ressourcement: the return to the sources of the Tradition, especially the Bible -- guided first at Dunwoodie by the peerless Myles Bourke (with whom he was particularly close). Indeed, in the midst of his final illness, he sent his brother John to fetch volume 4 of the breviary so he might continue faithful to the Church's prayer and Scripture, as we entered the 18th week in Ordinary Time.

b) but Philip also took to heart the Council's mandate for aggiornamento: the imperative to bring the Tradition into discerning dialogue with the valid insights of the present, in his case, in particular, through doctoral studies in sociology, of which he became a skilled practitioner.

But, remarkable in Philip Murnion was the ability to enter deeply into the Council's substance: to mine that profound spiritual vein, that integral vision which alone vivifies the letter of the text: a vision Pope John Paul has aptly called: "a Spirituality of Communion."

It was mentioned last evening that Philip recently expressed some regret at not having given sufficient attention to spirituality. But, in truth, spirituality was always central to what he was about. I remember vividly that in 1961, while he was a third theologian at Dunwoodie, he organized a reading group whose major texts were Louis Bouyer's Liturgical Spirituality and Gustave Thiels’ Holiness. If we were to look for a concrete model of a spirituality of communion in an American key, we might look first to Philip Murnion.

Philip had the grace of a comprehensive, a truly catholic vision: one that held in creative tension both the sacramental and the social, the intellectual and the institutional. What others often fragmented and polarized, he had the largeness of mind and heart to hold together in life-enhancing, spirit-stretching unity.

What was, for Philip Murnion, the very heart of the matter, the spacious Mystery in which all cohered in Truth? Without doubt—it was the Eucharistic Feast; even more: the Eucharistic Christ, Head and members, one body in the Spirit. For Philip every Eucharist was a deeply personal encounter with the living Lord Jesus himself.

In Calvary Hospital, raising the host, he confessed his faith: "Behold the Lamb of God: Source of Life and Hope, Food for the journey." He embodied Paul's boast: "We do not proclaim ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord; ourselves: your servants for Jesus' sake" (2 Cor 4:5). "your servant for Jesus' sake!" Philip's was a priesthood of eucharistic service.

So richly gifted himself, he was passionate about calling forth and gathering together the gifts of others. Witness, as one example, the wonderfully gifted women and men who are his associates at the National Pastoral Life Center. Unlike too many, Philip was not threatened by the gifts of others, but exulted in them, celebrated them. He continually exhorted his collaborators: "the gift you have been given, give as gift!" and his motivation, like Paul's, was purely eucharistic: "so that, as grace extends to more and more people, it may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God (2 Cor 4:15). Philip Murnion taught us "the grammar of gratitude" (Chesterton).

If the Eucharistic Feast is the heart of the matter, then its celebrants, ordained priests and priestly people alike, should radiate the joy of the wedding feast. Friedrich Nietzsche famously complained that Christians did not reflect in their faces the joy of redemption. Well, Fred Nietzsche never met Phil Murnion. It would have done him a world of good if he had!

Philip delighted in God's sheer goodness, so manifest in the good things of creation: food and wine, music and art—"fruit of the earth and work of human hands." But, even more, he rejoiced in Christ's redemptive and reconciling love, revealed in family and friends, the well-known and the lowly, prelates of the Church and the needy who found their way to the Holy Name Center.

Like Gerard Manley Hopkins, Philip felt, with every fiber of his being, that: "Christ plays in ten thousand places//Lovely in limbs, lovely in eyes not his//To the Father through the features of friends' faces."

Monsignor Philip Murnion was, indubitably, a doer—an indefatigable, immensely creative worker. He was founding father of the Office of Pastoral Research of the Archdiocese of New York; of the National Pastoral Life Center; of CHURCH Magazine. He energetically exercised leadership in the many projects of the Catholic Common Ground Initiative. He was that quintessential worker, celebrated by Teilhard de Chardin, as contributing to the advance of God's Kingdom.

But it is often forgotten that, in the Divine Milieu, though Teilhard extols human activities— what we initiate, undertake, accomplish, he recognizes that our passivities –what we undergo, suffer, surrender—are infinitely deeper and transforming. At Calvary Philip was stripped bare, to be clothed in glory, and never has the divine milieu been more tangible to me than around that hospital bed at Calvary, with Philip and his dear ones: a divine milieu of self-giving Love.

Free of illusion and self-deception, Philip spoke frankly to his doctor when it became clear that the third series of chemo-therapy treatments had failed to stem the cancer's insidious spread. He said: "I feel as though I'm crossing a stream, stepping carefully from rock to rock; but now my foot is poised, and I can't see a rock on which to place it."

Our brother Philip has plunged into the abyss . . . and the waters have engulfed him. But we firmly believe, with him, that they are baptismal waters . . . that his foot has touched the rock of salvation . . . the rock who is Christ Jesus. And we believe that Philip Murnion will be borne up, born again: praising God, thanking God from Whom all blessings ceaselessly flow, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen. Amen.

Rev. Robert P. Imbelli August 23, 2003