By now, they were near to the village to which they were going....They pressed him: “Stay with us for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over.” So Jesus went in to stay with them. (Lk 24:28-29) To be at home anywhere—most of all in our Father’s house together with our Jesus—is to be alive and in love with those closest to my heart. How else can I know God? Love, like life, lasts forever. In the end, you see, it’s not death that comes for us; it is God. My dear sisters and brothers, I hope it is more clear now, at least in part, how it is that the most significant and special act of our Lord Jesus—His saving death and resurrection—is still alive in our world in the deaths and resurrections of everyday disciples like Fr. Marty. Behind the sign of the breaking of the bread is this wider human tissue, which only veils the inexhaustible splendor of God’s love. But when the bread has been broken for the last time, when the wine has been poured out—as it has been for Fr. Marty—it’s as if the veil is momentarily lifted, and we glimpse, however fleetingly, the true beauty that is always there. For it is God Himself, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, infinitely gentle, infinitely merciful, beckoning us to Himself. And so, Marty, dear sweet brother, be at rest. Every pain is now lifted, every limitation is now healed. May God give your good and holy soul endless peace! Amen! So may it be! Peace be with you, my sisters and brothers, on this holy day, and with all who love the Lord in simplicity of heart! This homily was given in the Chapel of the Immaculate Conception, on the campus of the University of St. Mary of the Lake/Mundelein Seminary, on June 29, 2023.