This past week we lost a beloved member of the music ministry at St Joan of Arc Parish, where I serve as director. Farolito Cristobal was a cantor and devoted member of several of our choirs. He was a quiet, sparkly-eyed Filipino man with a humble bearing, but storied past. In the Philippines, he was a professional lead singer and guitar player in a band. He had two sons, and a beautiful wife. I met with them today to plan the music for Chris’ funeral mass. I mentioned that there would be many, many people singing in the choir, and that he was one of our own.

Chris’ wife and sons were amazed and touched to hear that there would be so many people coming to sing. One of them asked “Do you do this for everybody?” Of course, this gave me pause. No, we do not. Sometimes families ask for the choir, but most are happy to have a singer and pianist. And sometimes the community flows into the sacred space to celebrate the life of “one of their own.” Chris was certainly that.

But so are all God’s beloved.

It’s natural for us to pour out the best music and the most robust showing of support when it is one of our own, one who is well-known in the community, and deeply loved. Would that every soul who goes forth from this world were granted the same reverence and respect, the same heartfelt, prayerful response. That would be right and just. And, it would be a true testament to the faith we profess: that we are all God’s work of art, deeply beloved of the one who awaits our homecoming.