I had a homily prepared for this morning. It was quite good, a valedictory homily in which I compared seminary life to the genres of Greek drama. Perhaps that is not surprise. I connected St. Paul’s final days with the elements of stagecraft in the ancient world and pulled it all together with a clever simile to our current situation, standing as we are in the final hours of the last days. Then I received the call this morning telling me that Father Scott had died. When I spoke with his pastor on the phone, I quickly calculated in my head: About 40 hours. He was a priest about 40 hours. And I thought to myself, that was enough. It was enough. St. Paul says in today’s first reading: “Do not be afraid. Go on speaking, and do not be silent, for I am with you. No one will attack and harm you, for I have many people in this city.” How true these words are still for us today. We are at the close of the formation year. Some are going away sad. Some are going away mad. Some are just going away. At least one of our graduates, Fr. Carroll has gone to a better place than CPE, Guatemala, IPF, a parish summer, a first assignment, a new job. Scott has gone on that other journey, winding his way up the mountain to heaven. Our time will come. No one will attack and harm you, for I have many people in this city.” Do we know that? Do you know how many people here will continue to pray for you, to love you, to be with you, to rally for you even if you go away mad tomorrow? It is true. All of us are bound on that journey to which Scott precedes us today. We have other stops to make. None of us does it alone. You have many people in this sandstone city set on a Hill. And many others as yet unknown and un-named who are praying for you. Jesus says in the Gospel today: “Amen, amen, I say to you, you will weep and mourn, while the world rejoices; you will grieve, but your grief will become joy. Is that what we are about? I hope it is. I know my thoughts are a bit disjointed this morning. Well, you might have had Greek drama. Instead you just got the old rector saying a last sentimental word. When I went into my office at 4:00 this morning, someone had slipped a paper under my door. I will quote you the last two sentences of this paper: It is in my vulnerability that I can love. It is in my weakness that I am made strong. We know that of course, and yet we don’t. Scott knew it and is now living it. Also in this paper was a quote from Boethius; If you want the doctor to heal your wounds, you are going to have to uncover them” I am thinking of that one picture of Fr. Scott that got passed around the cybernation yesterday. We all know, at least I hope we know, that it was a picture of us.