Wednesday, January 20, 2021

Homily for the Funeral Vigil of Father Reynato Rodillas

A week ago last Friday I received a text from the Chancellor of my diocese that my former pastor, Fr. Rene Rodillas, died from what seem to be respiratory complications related to COVID-19. The past week-and-a-half, I have been shell-shocked by this news. January is always a difficult month. Last Sunday marked the tenth anniversary of my Dad's death.

I was extended the privilege of preaching at Father Rene's Funeral Vigil. The homily at a priest's funeral Mass is usually reserved to his bishop. Below is my homily for this evening's service.

You may watch the Vigil on The Cathedral of the Madeleine's YouTube Channel here. My homily, which contains a few spontaneous remarks, begins at exactly the 23 minute point. __________________________________________________

Readings: Romans 6:3-4.8-9; Ps 27; John 11:21-27

Even as Christians, death stings. Death stings all the more when it comes suddenly and unbidden. Perhaps nothing causes us to face our own mortality more starkly than the sudden death of someone we know and love. Learning about the sudden and unexpected death of anyone evokes these words from a poem by John Donne:
Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind;
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee1
Do not despair, there is hope! Saint Paul’s point in our reading from his Letter to the Romans, which soothes on one level and provokes us on another, is that because we have died, been buried, and rose with Christ to new life through the waters of baptism, we need not fear death. Certainly, Father Rene died, was buried, and rose with Christ to new life.

Reynato Rodillas, whose fifty-ninth birthday is next week, on the Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul, lived the new life Christ graciously died and rose to give him as a priest. Leaving a promising career as a civil engineer, a beautiful fiancée, who did not know he’d gone to the seminary until he’d been there a year (Father assured me they remained friends), and, going against the wishes of his Dad, he pursued ordination to the priesthood. His decade or so ministering in our diocese constituted less than half of his priestly life.

Until he was incardinated into the Diocese of Salt Lake City- one of then-Bishop Wester’s last official acts here- Father Rene was a member of the Society of the Divine Word. The SVDs, as they’re popularly known, is a missionary order of priests. After serving in Germany and before coming to the United States, he served as the pastor of a very poor mountain village in the Philippines. The people of this village were too poor to support the parish. And so, Father Rene supported them.

It was at this point that, drawing on his family's farming roots, he began to raise food in earnest. The food he raised was largely given to the people of the parish. To earn money needed to build a simple Church, Father Rene presided at many funerals throughout Manila and the surrounding areas. As a good pastor, rather than having it built for them, Father Rene insisted that the people of the parish take ownership of their church by building it themselves. In response, parishioners would bring whatever they had to offer for the construction of this sacred place. He helped several young people from that village with their education, enabling them to rise from poverty.

In the nearly five years I was privileged to serve alongside Father Rene, I never saw him happier than in the heat of an August afternoon working in his amazingly fruitful garden. When I had a meeting or was teaching a class at that time of the year, I always went out back to see him working. He would stop, tilt his big, floppy hat back, wipe the sweat from his brow, and flash his big smile at me. It helped me immensely to see someone so happy with what they were doing. Of course, there were a few times when I arrived at the parish of an evening and had to usher his chickens, including two very non-cooperative roosters, back into the fenced yard.

Father Reynato Rodillas- 25 January 1962 - 8 January 2021


For those who know Father Rene, you know he was quite introverted and retiring, even shy. He was a meek and gentle but very determined man. I know firsthand that the struggles of being a pastor really got to him at times. Many of us here know how painful and draining pastoral ministry is on occasion. This is why closeness to Christ through prayer is absolutely vital. Father Rene had a deep prayer life.

While at Saint Olaf, he loved to sit silently in the chapel next to his rectory before the Blessed Sacrament. He told me this place was his refuge. This echoes the words of the psalmist: “You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.”2

His manner of presiding at the Eucharist was wonderful and came to him so naturally, there was nothing forced or affected about it. Celebrating Mass with and on behalf of God’s holy people was the center of his life. The only thing that rivaled celebrating the Eucharist was perhaps his love of singing.

Everyone who spent any time at all with Father Rene has a memory of him breaking into song. Despite life’s trials, he was a joyful person. The apex, then, was when, as he did his last several years at Saint Olaf, he would sing the Sacred Liturgy. He did it very beautifully.

Father Rene loved Our Lady. He prayed the Rosary daily. At his instigation, Saint Olaf parish prayed a communal Rosary each Sunday before one of the Masses on a rotating basis. Different groups from the parish, including the deacon, took turns leading the Rosary. Father Rene didn’t just mandate the Rosary and absent himself. He sat at the back of the Church in his alb, Rosary in hand, praying along with everybody. This was another time he was truly at peace.

The first time I saw Father Rene after he was made pastor of Saint James the Just was at the Bishop’s Dinner about a month after his move. Seeing me, he broke into that big smile, made a b-line to me, and gave me one of the biggest hugs I’ve ever received. He might not like me to say this, but we were both a little teary-eyed. After all, we’d been through a lot together. Like a good Father, at that and other moments, he made me feel loved. To my mind, this is the essence of priestly ministry.

Too often, we think of life in Christ, which is nothing other than life in the Spirit, as a big, noisy, glitzy affair. Most of the time, my friends, it isn’t. As the Apostle Paul laid them out in his Letter to the Galatians, the Spirit’s fruits are faithfulness, gentleness, self-control, patience, joy, kindness, peace, and love.3

As the late Christian singer-songwriter Rich Mullins, who also died an untimely, sudden death, once said: “I think there can't be any greater joy in life than knowing that someone else's life is richer because you lived.”4 There are many of us here tonight whose lives are richer because Rene Rodillas lived.

Endeavoring in weakness during the rapidly-passing time of mortality to live as a new creation, with the help of God’s grace, is what it means to be alive in Christ. As Jesus said to Lazarus’s grieving sister, Martha:
I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live,
and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die5
Characteristically, Jesus ends his pronouncement to Martha, his revelation, with a question: “Do you believe this?”6 It’s not a question one can answer with words, at least not convincingly. This question can only really be answered by the way you live your life. The day is coming when Christ will ask you this question.

Father Rene believed with every fiber of his being that Jesus is the resurrection and life. The joys and sorrows of his priestly ministry only deepened his faith. By making the LORD his light and his salvation, Father Rene could face death, even an untimely death, without fear.

Tonight, as we keep Vigil with Father Rene’s earthly remains, entrusting him to the unfailing intercession of our Blessed Mother, let’s open our hearts to the Holy Spirit, the mode of Christ’s resurrection presence among and in us. It is the Spirit that animates us, making us, the Church, Christ's mystical Body. It is by living life in the Spirit that Christ is made present through us, just as he made himself present through the life and priestly ministry of our brother, Rene.


1 John Donne, “For Whom the Bell Tolls.”
2 Psalm 32:7 (New International Version).
3 Galatians 5:22-23.
4 Rich Mullins, Heart to Heart Interview with Sheila Walsh on Christian Broadcasting Network, 20 May 1992. Accessed 18 January 2021
5 John 11:25-26.
6 John 11:25.

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