November to remember November 17, 2020By Father T. Austin Murphy Jr. Catholic Review Filed Under: Commentary, Diamonds in the Rough Father T. Austin Murphy Jr., left, celebrated a Mass in memory of his great uncle, Bishop T. Austin Murphy, at the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen. (Courtesy Murphy Family) Each year, members of my family gather at the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen and celebrate Mass in memory of our Uncle Austin – the late Bishop T. Austin Murphy. Wilmington Bishop Fran Malooly, a former auxiliary bishop of Baltimore and my cousin, typically organizes it around the date of Uncle Austin’s death (Nov. 17), and we gather to remember all the deceased of our families. This year, with the bishops’ conference meeting virtually and the restrictions of COVID-19, we couldn’t celebrate as we normally do; but I was asked to offer the Mass for those who felt safe coming and we did. The cathedral has always been gracious in allowing this indulgence for our family. I think it is fortuitous that Uncle Austin died in November – the month in which we traditionally honor our faithful departed; and gathering to do so has been a cherished part of my life, both before and during my priesthood. The other day, as it turned out, I decided to watch Pixar’s “Coco,” which came out a couple years ago. It is the story of a Mexican youth named Miguel Rivera and his family as they observe the very traditional “Dia de los Muertos” (the “Day of the Dead”), celebrated Nov. 1-2 every year. It is a time to remember your family and ancestors and to honor them with a traditional “ofrenda” – a home altar decorated with flowers, gifts, foods and pictures of loved ones. Like many young people, the traditions of his family seem irrelevant to Miguel, who wants to play and celebrate with music – something that has been taboo in his family since a great, great, great grandfather left his family to pursue a musical career years ago. That grandfather was the father of the title character, Coco, who is the ancient and feeble matriarch of the Rivera family at this time. Coco’s heath is failing, as is her memory, and the rest of the family tries to shield her from Miguel’s perceived foolishness. Miguel loves music and decides that his great, great, great grandfather is, in fact, the famous musician Edgar de la Cruz, whose music he idolizes (as do many others). As the movie plays out, Miguel finds himself escaping home to pursue his dream of playing music by connecting with his famous ancestor. Through the magic of Dia de los Muertos, he ends up in the land of the dead and meets many of his grandparents and relatives, whom he recognizes from their photos on his ofrenda. Not to give away the entire story, Miguel learns that what he thought (or hoped) about his ancestry was incorrect, and he ends up connecting with his true grandfather – a humble and creative man named Hector. Through music and adventure, he helps his ancestors heal old wounds and finds his own way back to the world of the living. He now has a new connection with his great, great grandmother Coco, and his care for her and new appreciation of family brings joy and healing to his living relatives as well. It’s a beautifully woven tale, as well as visually stunning. As pastor of a largely Hispanic parish, I have a particular appreciation for the story! At a seminarian celebration in 1963, the future Bishop W. Francis Malooly (right) is joined by his uncle, Bishop T. Austin Murphy, who celebrated Mass at St. Charles College Seminary in Catonsville. (CR file) But back to my family’s celebration and this month of November. All of us are the products of so many generations of struggle, sacrifice, joy, pain and dreams. As I delve deeper into Ancestry.com, I have learned more of those stories about my own family. It has raised my appreciation for the shoulders upon which I can stand as a person of the present. November’s celebration of the faithful departed reminds us that none of us are accidentally here. We are part of a vast chain of individuals and families who had dreamed of a good life for us – even if they would never know us. The only way that we can appreciate that fact is by remembering – not by dreaming of a future but by being grateful for the past. One day – God willing – we will be remembered by others (hopefully at Mass!). Hopefully, we as Catholics are in the habit of praying for the dead. It is a spiritual work of mercy. We will see them again, and their prayers can be invaluable for helping us to make it there. I don’t know if the “land of the dead” is anything like it’s shown in “Coco” (it certainly was a groovy place!). However, I do know that heaven will be fantastic. Let’s get to praying so that we all can make it there! Copyright © 2020 Catholic Review Media Print