FUNERAL OF Fr DAVID MORLAND O.S.B.
Abbot Cuthbert Madden
25 October 2011
Ecclesiasticus 2.1-11; Romans 8.14-23; Matthew 25.31-46
In the opening prayer we prayed for David, who 'responded to the call of Christ and pursued wholeheartedly the ways of perfect love' and our prayer was that he might share, 'in company with all his brothers and sisters, the happiness of God’s kingdom'. This prayer has set the theme for this Mass. We have affirmed our belief in the importance of the choices which our brother made in this life and we have proclaimed that his life on earth was the prelude to eternal life, the eternal life which one day we hope to share in the presence of God our Father and his Saints.
Following in the footsteps of his brothers David came here to school. He did not enter St Thomas’ House as they had done but became a founder member of St Hugh’s House together with a number of you who are in this congregation. He was a talented student and many wondered what the future held for him. In the story of his vocation in A Touch of God David tells us that as his schooldays drew to a close he experienced something of the touch of God. He was sixteen or seventeen. He was undecided whether to go up to Cambridge or enter the novitiate. In the event, during the course of a holiday in Italy, he decided to return to Ampleforth to discern whether he had a vocation to be a monk.
In the first reading we heard, 'My son, if you aspire to serve the Lord, prepare yourself for an ordeal' (Sirach 2.1). This is the age-old wisdom of the Fathers and it was as true for David as it is for all of us here today. It does not much matter what path in life we choose, if we aspire to serve the Lord each of us will find ourselves challenged. We have to learn the truth that we are not capable, relying solely on own resources, of living the life to which we believe the Lord has called us.
Those of us who knew David well are aware that the testing of his faith was not a one-off affair but recurred from time to time in the course of his life. It is true for each one of us: illness, disappointments in the way that life is turning out, tragedies affecting family and friends – all of these, part of the normal content of life, can lead us to renew and deepen our belief in the God who has called us. If we persevere in our search we find, as David found, that God is faithful and the path we have followed gradually unfolds and makes sense.
In his early days as a monk David’s intellectual abilities and his desire to test ideas in the crucible of experience were given a fairly broad scope by Abbot Basil and Abbot Ambrose. He studied in Oxford, Munich and Rome. He tasted both school and parish life and he was, for a short while, part of the beginnings of Ince Benet when it was housed at Little Crosby. It comes as something of a surprise, therefore, to discover that the greater part of his monastic life was spent doing what Ampleforth monks have characteristically done for the best part of two centuries: he served first as a teacher in our schools and then as a monk-priest in one of our parishes.
David spent thirteen years from 1984 until 1997 as a much-valued teacher and head of Classics in the College. He enjoyed this task. He enjoyed fostering and developing the intellectual talents of young men. He especially enjoyed discovering those whose abilities were not obvious to everyone, and then enabling that young student to flourish as a classicist, often imbuing them with a love of learning which survived school and persisted into their university years and beyond.
This gift of being a dedicated teacher is often undervalued or even mistrusted nowadays. That is a mistake. Young men and women know very well which teachers are interested in them as people, those who want to see them develop and flourish. Fr David was one of those teachers who helped to build those bonds of friendship which enable young people to flourish, to discover themselves and the God who brought them into being.
David went to Liverpool after a significant bout of ill health but Liverpool and Burma, about which I shall more in a moment, rooted David very firmly in the real world, bringing a great simplicity to his life of faith. It was for this reason that I chose the second reading from the letter of Paul to the Romans. One of the significant challenges for all of us is to have a faith which allows us to see God as 'Abba, Father'. Although this faith may come to some of us very naturally, for many others faith in a personal, loving God is a difficult concept.
It is comparatively easy to give intellectual assent to the notion of God; not impossible to give a similar assent to the idea that God is love; but it is often a great deal more difficult, especially in the face of one’s personal experience of death and evil in this world, to have a childlike trust in a God who has brought one into being, who knows each of us intimately, who loves each one of us because he has made us.
And yet, when we are able to consent to the overtures of such a God, when we experience something of the God-who-is, we are transformed and this affects both ourselves and those whom we encounter. For David this meant that it did not matter whether you were a significant person as this world judges these things or an ordinary member of his congregation in Grassendale: you would be treated just the same: with attention and with a lasting, loving concern.
Between teaching and parish life there was a sabbatical period in Burma. David first went to that country when his brother Martin was ambassador there in 1986. He returned for several months in late 1997 and early 1998. He remained deeply committed to that, in some respects, tragic nation for the remainder of his life. Many of you will have experienced his urgent pleading that you should support the work of Father Singa or Sister Salette – and doubtless many of you contributed generously to those pleas. David was uncompromising in his fight against what he saw as corruption in some members of the Catholic hierarchy in Burma. It was a joy for him to see in these last months some modest signs of a softening in the stance of the military regime which continues to rule Burma: doubtless he is now badgering the almighty about the welfare of that beloved country.
In April 2008 David discovered that he was terminally ill. He had already had a very severe reaction to chemotherapy at the time of his surgery, so he sought advice from one of the local oncologists, Dr Arthur Sun Myint, who is Burmese. He developed a strong friendship and great trust in his consultant and together they decided that since the tumour was comparatively 'indolent' (one of the few occasions, David told me, that he approved of the use of that word) it was best to get on with life rather than embarking on further radical treatment. David immediately settled back to the parish routine.
I have been very touched by the large number of comments I have received from Grassendale since David died. Many of you have told me about David’s longstanding, tireless and loving concern for the sick and the dying. You have told me how he would visit them regularly day after day. It was for this reason that I chose the Gospel passage of the Last Judgment, 'Whatsoever you did to the least of my brothers, that you did to me'. But if Fr David looked after you in sickness and in health, you looked after him and never more so than in the weeks leading up to the severe deterioration in his health which forced his return to the Abbey at the beginning of this year. The brethren and I are very grateful to you for all your support and care for our brother, your parish priest.
At the end of this homily I want to leave you with a final request and a thought for those of us who remain behind. Fr David, like you and me, knew that he was not perfect. He knew that he stood in need of the loving mercy of God. This is one of the principal reasons we are gathered here today: to pray that our brother may be forgiven for his failings and that he may be blessed by seeing the God whom he sought so earnestly in this life. Please continue to remember Fr David in your prayers. Our monastic tradition is for a particular remembrance in 30 days after death and on the first anniversary. Perhaps you would join us in that prayer.
The thought that I want to leave is taken from the three readings that we have heard: may we learn how to trust in God and stand firm in times of difficulty; may we come to know God in very truth as a loving parent who knows and cares for us; and finally may we learn how to live our lives so that we have no fear when we hear the words, 'Whatsoever you did to the least of my brothers, that you did unto me.'