Homily given at Fr. Dick Rieman’s funeral on December 6, 2019 by Msgr. Thomas Bohlin, Vicar of Opus Dei in the United States, at St. Mary of the Assumption Church in Dedham, Massachusetts.

Holy Christmas!  Father Dick was always so spontaneous.  I'm not sure I ever heard anyone else say that exclamation.

Maybe it was a Fr. Dick original.  We were making a video of the life of Fr. Joseph Muzquiz who started Opus Dei in the U.S.  And, of course, we interviewed Father Dick about these early days.  In the middle of the interview and talking about Saint Josemaria or Fr. Joseph,  I don't remember, he came out with Holy Christmas!—as a smiling exclamation of delight.  It went over very well until we tried to show the video on EWTN.  And the station’s producers asked us to remove the phrase.  They thought it was irreverent—that it wasn’t proper.

Maybe they were right.  But we refused anyway—because it was so Fr. Dick, so joyful, so simple, so childlike, so real—and at the same time profoundly spiritual.  God has taken Fr. Dick to himself after 94 years on this earth.  And as the Prelate of Opus Dei, Mons. Ocáriz, wrote to us this week, uniting his prayers and condolences to all of us—to all of you.  He said, there are no coincidences.  God has taken Father Dick from us in the beginning of this Advent season.  As we prepare for Christmas and also during these days especially dedicated to Mary during the novena of the Immaculate Conception, we can ask the Mary to make this a very Holy Christmas for Fr. Dick.

We heard this morning, one of the readings from Advent, the time of preparation for the coming of Jesus at Christmas from the prophet Isaiah:

On this mountain the Lord of hosts will provide for all peoples.  The Lord will wipe away tears from all faces.  The reproach of the people he will remove from the whole earth. The Lord has spoken.  On this day will be said: behold our God to whom we look to save us.  This is the Lord for whom we looked.  Let us rejoice and be glad that he has saved us.

Advent is this time of hope—when we raise up our eyes and turn our hearts to this God who comes as a small child to save us. It's always a time of anticipation and joy as God comes silently into this darkened world—darkened by sin—and brings a light that can never be dimmed or extinguished.  God became the Son of man so that men—all of us—could become children of God—lifted up to share in his divine life—with a glorious inheritance awaiting us in heaven—if we believe in him and if we strive according to his word. 

We read in the second reading from Saint John the apostle:

See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may become children of God—

yet so we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God's children now. What we show thee has not yet been revealed. We do know that when it is revealed, we shall be like him—for we shall see him as he is.

St John is trying to describe the glory of heaven.  But through a special gift of God that we call the Beatific Vision, we will be able to see him face to face.  Today is a good day to reflect on what Jesus brought us.  With his life and death on the cross, he showed us the extent of God's love for us.  We can barely understand this.  Perhaps some of you students and alums of Montrose can recall Fr. Dick's way of saying: he made you to love you.  He made you to love you.  It was his simple and spontaneous way of communicating something very deep.

Other times he would say looking at the tabernacle and the crucifix—He loves you so much.  He loves you so much.  He would communicate God's love through those simple phrases. Things that are so deep he could communicate with that simple way with a few words.  It was a special gift.  He made you to love you.  That's why you're here.  That's why you are on this earth. He loves you so much.  That's what Christmas is about.  Today we pray for Fr. Dick Rieman. All his life he strove to follow Jesus—for 61 years as a priest—69 years as a member of Opus Dei.

After 94 years, including 40 wonderful years at Montrose school, God has called Fr. Dick to himself.  And Father Dick talked a lot about heaven.  I remember how impressed he was one time I was there, he showed me this book about the little boy, who said he went to heaven—

describing heaven—he was just so joyful.  He loved that book.  He wanted to go to heaven.

“Everything the Father gives me will come to me,” Jesus said, “and I will not reject anyone who comes to me.  This is the will of the one who sent me that I should not lose anything of what he gave me.  For this is the will of my Father, that everybody who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life.”

These words gave Father Dick strength and joy and cheerfulness that he conveyed every day to generations of young women at Montrose.  In his simple and delightful way at Mass—or one on one—he would say duck in to see him.  Tell him why you're mad.  Or other moments he encouraged the girls to crawl into Our Lady’s lap to find comfort there.  He loved Jesus and trusted his words.  He knew the only failure in life—was not to do poorly on an exam or to lose a game—though he always wanted Montrose to win—to kill the other team, especially with Miracle Field, which I think he named himself.  Failure was NOT to be rejected by a certain college or even by a friend—the only real failure in life is not to know Jesus and his love.  Without him, we have nothing—even if surrounded by everything this world can offer.  We see we have all we need and we can get through anything life throws at us.  

One of the outstanding features of Montrose—there are many—is the number of girls who go to daily Mass.  I know that many visitors, including priests and bishops who celebrated Mass there, have always been astounded by how many girls show up at Mass every day—even non-Catholics.  And Fr. Dick and his fellow chaplains realized that every day is Christmas at Montrose because every day when the priest says those words of consecration at the Mass, Jesus comes—it's the same Jesus who came to Bethlehem comes on the altar—and he's going to come today, in this Mass.  He came seeking each one of those students out of love for them.  And I have to think that the faith and devotion that the girls saw in Fr. Dick's eyes at the moment of the consecration led many of them to love the Mass.

It's not surprising to know that Fr. Dick was a pioneer and a trailblazer.  He served the country as a Navy flyer in World War II and wore the wings to prove it—every day.  And probably he would've liked everyone here to notice that his funeral fell on an important historical date for him—Pearl Harbor Day.  As a trailblazer he was also the first member of Opus Dei in the United States, the first American priest of Opus Dei, and we hold him in high esteem for that—so many of us.  In 1949, St. Josemaria Escriva sent Fr. Joseph Muzquiz and Sal Ferigle, who later became Fr. Sal, to start Opus Dei in Chicago.  There they met twenty-five-year-old Dick Rieman.  He was introduced to Fr. Joseph and Sal and quickly became their friends.  At that time, they had their first and only center near the University of Chicago—a small house.  They had no money, no contacts, no resources. They barely spoke English.

They wanted to close in a doorway off the driveway in the brick house.  They asked Dick, “Can you get us some bricks for this job?”  It was just sort of a test of his commitment and generosity. Days passed. No Father Dick, no bricks.  Days passed and there was no word from Fr Dick either.  Then one day his car showed up almost scraping the ground—it was so low.  The car was weighed down with all the bricks they needed.  Don't know where he got them.  Don’t ask any questions. 

Fr. Dick’s joy and cheerfulness was reinforced by a life changing experience he had in meeting and living with St. Josemaria Escriva.  The founder of Opus Dei in the 1950s—this modern saint—won Fr. Dick over with his joy, his love for Jesus.  He taught it to Fr. Dick; Fr. Dick learned.  He got it.  St. Josemaria’s indomitable faith in Jesus led him to open a new path of holiness and apostolate in the Church, especially among lay people, but also for priests—and doing so in era when the Church was under attack from all sides.  Nothing could stop St. Josemaria, as he spread Opus Dei around the world because he believed in Jesus and loved him.  And if some of you have seen the short videos of Fr. Dick that are on the Opus Dei website and I invite you to look—if you haven't seen them—very brief videos.  He never forgot that contagious joy of St. Josemaria

And he learned from him to value friendship as a key to apostolate.  Something that Jesus himself teaches us.  A Bishop called me this week, to offer his condolences for the loss of Fr. Dick.  He said that back in the late sixties and early seventies, he was a chaplain with Fr. Dick in a small college in Boston.  It was a time of turmoil for the Church.  He said he owed a great debt to Fr. Dick—a debt of gratitude for spiritual direction, friendship.  And in those years when many people were losing their way, Fr. Dick always was there to reassure him and keep him on course.

Besides the teachers, staff, students, and parents at Montrose, Fr. Dick loved sports, outdoor activities.  He loved to play baseball, golf, hockey, whatever.  To root for the home teams in Boston, to mix it up with athletes and coaches at Harvard whom he valued as dear friends—so many coaches, so many athletes.  He had a great gift for friendship as so many of you Montrose parents and friends know.  And he treasured your friendships.  Fr. Dick was the founding chaplain of Montrose and stayed with the school and the girls and all involved there through four campuses in 40 years. He really left his heart at Montrose—his love—his love for you.  Maybe that’s why he lasted so long.  He loved to be with the girls.  He bragged to me over and over again whenever I saw him about Montrose, how great their choir was—whom we are hearing—how angelic their singing was at daily Mass—how tremendous the teachers were—the sports teams and sports programs.  He really gave unconditional love to all at Montrose.  Certainly, all of us here can reflect on the blessing of knowing Fr. Dick.  And I think that's why so many are here today.  So many of you grew up from being little girls to young women with Fr. Dick at your side.  So many of us in Opus Dei owe a great debt of gratitude to this pioneer of Opus Dei in his faithfulness.

So, perhaps a good question for many of us now is what would Fr. Dick say to you today?— because in a real way he is here—continues in the body of Christ with us.  He's not far from us. I think he would say, pray for me!  Have Masses said for me!  He wanted so much go to heaven.

 We can ask that God will forgive him for his sins and welcome him into heaven.  What a great thing it would be if he could say—Holy Christmas!—and be with Mary and Jesus and St. Josemaria and Blessed Alvaro—for a great get together in heaven when Christmas arrives this year.  And find also there Dory, Elizabeth, and others there as well.

But he would also smile and encourage you to recall what you learned at Montrose and to think about others and aim for that victory on the true Miracle Field of heaven.  And you can be sure of this: that you will have a grand cheerleader on the sidelines as you go through the joys and sorrows of this journey of life!  Amen.