By Archbishop Thomas Wenski - The Archdiocese of Miami
Archbishop Thomas Wenski preached this homily at a “month’s mind” (memorial) Mass for Father Jeremiah Singleton, who died Nov. 24, 2023, in Ireland. The Mass was celebrated Dec. 18 at St. Anthony Church, Fort Lauderdale.
This evening, we gather to celebrate a Mass for the repose of the soul of Father Jeremiah Singleton who died last month in Ireland. Such Masses are called “the month’s mind.” The month's mind is still an almost universal practice in Ireland (for Roman Catholics) for the family of the deceased and close friends to attend Mass and take a meal together.
The funeral was held in Ireland – and many here were able to follow it on livestreaming. Father’s niece spoke eloquently about her uncle – as did the priest celebrating the Mass.
“And Jesus wept.” Just as Jesus wept at the death of his friend, Lazarus, we too weep at the passing of this man who was a brother, an uncle, a pastor, a counselor, a friend to so many who grieve his passing. Grieve we must — for grief is the pain of letting go and entrusting him to the arms of a loving and merciful God.
I remember 50 years ago, Father Jeremiah Singleton was pastor of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Immokalee, working among farmworkers, some of the poorest people in our state. I visited him with Msgr. [John] McMahon, who at that time oversaw the Rural Life Bureau of the archdiocese and Immokalee was part of the archdiocese. I was in the seminary and accompanied Msgr. McMahon to Immokalee. It was a cold Saturday evening and Father Singleton had a vigil Mass scheduled at a migrant camp outside of Immokalee: Camp Happy. On the way to the Mass, Singleton told me: “Your Spanish is better than mine, you preach.” I was only in second or third theology; but back then we bent the liturgical rules a bit. So, my first ever public homily happened because of Father Singleton.
This local Church, the Archdiocese of Miami, is grateful to the Singleton family for the gift of this man, who like so many of his countrymen, came from Ireland to minister here in Florida. He served many years here at St. Anthony, first as a parochial vicar and then as pastor after Father Hannon’s death. He was truly a Father to all of you. Many of you are aware of his work with alcoholics – and of his own early struggles with alcoholism. He directed for many years the Hazelton Center next to St. Mary’s Hospital in West Palm Beach. He helped many – including many among his brother priests – to sobriety and to a renewed and compassionate ministry.
Every person’s life is lived under the sign of the Cross. Experience shows, especially when that experience is interpreted in the light of the wisdom that age gives, experience shows that life’s difficulties, by God’s grace, contribute to people’s growth and the forging of their character. From adversity comes a light that can brighten the years of old age, for as St. John Chrysostom said: Tribulations not only do not destroy hope, but they are also its foundation.
Father Singleton who successfully battled alcoholism — and then later in life dementia — gave us a witness to hope, a witness of priestly integrity and the joy that comes from walking through this life as a friend of Jesus.
St. John Eudes once said: “...the greatest effect of God’s mercy, the most precious grace He bestows upon mankind, is to send worthy priests, men after His own heart, seeking only His glory and the salvation of souls.”
As priests we touch and influence people — for good or for ill — in ways that we may never be aware of, at least on this side of eternity. Jeremiah Singleton was one of those worthy priests; and, I hope that now, from his side of eternity, he is aware of the influence for good that he had in the lives of so many people here in the Archdiocese of Miami and beyond. In his 51 years as a priest, he sought to be a true shepherd of souls: For him, being a priest was more than about administration and paying bills, his work was about the People of God, it was about touching their souls, healing their hearts, and praying for their needs. His was a ministry to service, not of celebrity. And he ministered faithfully and with humility — nothing he did was about himself; it was always about the Lord.
Every priest here is privileged to serve God and his people — as Jerry was — in this awesome vocation of the holy priesthood. And even though we carry this treasure in the “earthen vessels” of our frail humanity and sinfulness, it is a holy priesthood because as “other Christs” we share in our Lord’s own high priesthood through our ministry of Word and Sacrament. God uses imperfect instruments to work his will so that we will know that it is He who saves and not we.
We, priests, know our own human frailty, and so we are not shy in asking your prayers for him — and when we die, we beg your prayers for us, confident that the love of Jesus Christ who gave us the gift of the priesthood is stronger than death.
The Paschal Candle stands beside the coffin at every Mass of Christian burial — just as it stands by the font at baptisms. Five grains of incense represent the five wounds of Christ. Those five grains in the form of a cross are framed by the Greek letters, Alpha and Omega, symbolizing Christ — our beginning and our end. When the candle is lit after the blessing of the new fire on Holy Saturday evening, the priest prays — as Father Singleton prayed the many times he celebrated the Easter Vigil: “May the light of Christ, rising in glory, dispel the darkness of our hearts and minds.” The words of St. Paul also comfort us: “If we have died with Christ, we believe that we shall also rise with him.”
