When I arrived back from my holidays in Ireland last Friday, the first news I received was of Peter’s death. I was stunned at how quickly he had left us – and no opportunity to say ‘farewell’. The week before my holidays I rang Peter to make arrangements to visit him at the beginning of August – but he discouraged me – he was tired and unwell. The therapy he had been receiving had been discontinued. The signs were not good. His life was ebbing away.

Today I offer my condolence to the Coleman family – Terry, Teresa, Fr Aelred, Gerard, Dorothy, Fr Michael and Anne, also Sr Monica Grainger, Peter’s cousin.

Confronted with the reality and mystery of death, human words are totally inadequate. Our only source of light and hope is the Word of God.

What a treasure we have in the Scriptures. They do not offer us a mere snack. They offer us a feast. At this time of loss let us drink deeply from the Word of God, let us savour the Word and feel the divine power in it. ‘Christ alone has the words of eternal life’, as St Peter said. Only his words are adequate to the challenge of death.

Peter has expressed something of his faith in choosing the funeral Mass Readings just proclaimed. Let’s take a brief look at them.

It strikes me that Peter had two things in common with Judas Maccabaeus who was praised in the Old Testament Reading. Firstly, they were both warriors. Peter survived the Cistercian regime in Mount Melleray for a number of years. Then he faced the challenge of St John’s, Waterford – an even tougher establishment – military discipline and perhaps a touch of racial prejudice from one or two members of staff. He coped with it all. In fact, among the student body, he was one of the most popular fellows in the college and a very talented footballer.

Peter was ordained at a time when a curate enjoyed only one canonical right – the right to a Christian Burial! At that time parish priests enjoyed the divine right of kings! He felt that it was part of his mission to challenge this unjust system and challenge it he did! That accounts for the many different addresses he had in the 60s and 70s. He was indeed very much a part of the pilgrim church! He has short curacies here and there. I used to pull his leg about his ‘season’ in Bridlington! He was the first man to introduce liberation theology to this part of the world – long before it became popular in South America! He had very happy times in St Charles, Hull and in St George’s, York. It took the steel of a warrior to go through it all – and the grace of God to see him through. That grace of God was given him in abundance on every step of his journey.

He was also a warrior on the golf course. He never gave up. Playing with him in the National Clergy Competition I remember one occasion when we were four down to a Liverpool pairing at the half way stage and Peter led the revival – great memories! Great partner!

The second thing in which he resembles Judas Maccabaeus, is that like him, Peter took full account of the Resurrection. He was brought up by Dolly and John†Coleman with an unwavering certainty that it was a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead that they may be released from their sins. It was a belief he never lost, and with it went a hope that he would be remembered in the prayers of those left behind.

There was another person who had the same sort of faith as Peter. The story of her death, written by her son, is one of the most moving pages of Christian writing. He was the great Augustine, she was St Monica.

Monica died far from home, but she did not want a lavish funeral. As she told Augustine, who had so often broken her heart, ‘Lay this body wherever it may be. Let no care of it disturb you. This alone do I ask of you, that you remember me at the altar of God’.

For Peter, the boundary walls between heaven and earth were never very thick, but they were at their thinnest when he celebrated the Eucharist. It was truly a moment of living communion of the saints. The last time I saw him he was struggling to offer the community Mass at the Convent assisted by the local deacon, David Moss. We are honouring that wish of his in a special way now, but I think he would want us to remember him always at the altar of God.

Prayer for the dead is deeply ingrained in our Catholic tradition, and expresses in a simple way some of the deepest truths of our faith. It expresses first of all our utter certainty that the faithful departed are in God’s sure keeping and that nothing can snatch them from his hand. It also expresses our confidence in a merciful God who respects our efforts, and does not demand any more of us than we are able to give.

St Paul tells us that the life and death of each of us has its influence on others. ‘No man is an island.’ Baptism immerses us in the Paschal Mystery – immerses us in the life of the Trinity. We are gathered unto God through our Baptism – gathered into a big family – the People of God. Our action or inaction has huge implications for the whole body.

What a powerful witness of the Risen Christ Peter was. He had a tremendous gift for making friends and keeping them. Many of you are here today from Hull, Bridlington, York, Middlesbrough, Scarborough. Why? Because of your friendship that spanned many years and was nourished now and again with a bottle of good wine! He had the ability to make friends with people who were so different from him in character. I’m thinking of his great and long friendship with Canon Joe O’Mahony both on and off the golf course. I remember him telling me that he was getting a parish sister from Bridlington – I said to him ‘it won’t last a month’. He just laughed. That relationship with Sr Rita developed and flourished and he was devastated when she died of cancer a few years ago. Peter made many friends at Archbishop Holgate’s Anglican School in York through his chaplaincy work there and he was very highly regarded by the staff – some kept in touch throughout the years and have been praying for him in recent months.

There was no ambivalence in Peter. He was forthright, direct and assertive – qualities that occasionally got him into hot water. Diplomacy was not something he cultivated – but neither did St Paul.

Finally, a word on the Beatitudes. The Beatitudes are a portrait of Christ – a summary of the Gospel.

Did Peter live them out fully? Of course not, but he tried to do so. Partial success, partial failure. That’s why the Church intercedes for him today at the Eucharistic table. We are confident that death is not the end, nor does it break the bonds forged in life. The fact of the Resurrection colours everything for us Christians. We are an Easter People and Alleluia is our song.

Peter experienced much suffering in his life. Fifteen years ago we were both involved in a car accident in Portugal. As you might expect, we were both battered and bruised. It took Peter a long time to regain his equilibrium and return to his parish in Scarborough.

He also suffered severely in his final illness. Through pain and suffering, we learn what it means to embrace the Cross of Christ. Like Jesus, dying on the cross, our faith is tested when we experience suffering, and when we witness suffering in other people’s lives. However, just as God did not desert Jesus, he does not desert us. And he did not desert Peter. It is our hope that Peter’s suffering in this life has not been in vain, but, instead, has prepared him to live a life that has changed, not ended, and rest in God’s peace and love forever.

To finish with – a prayer/poem from John O’Donohue’s book ‘Benedictus’.

On the day when the weight deadens on your shoulders
And you stumble,
May the clay dance to balance you.

And when your eyes freeze behind the grey window
And the ghost of loss gets into you
May a flock of colours, indigo, red, green, and azure blue,
Come to awaken in you, a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays in the currach of thought
And a stain of ocean blackens beneath you,
May there come across the waters
A path of yellow moonlight to bring you safely home.

Amen.

Very Rev Canon Michael Ryan