The annual Mass for Deceased Clergy and Benefactors was held at St Michael’s, Rondebosch on Tuesday 25th November 2025. Below is the homily preached at the Mass, by Fr David de Caires e Freitas.
Homily: The Freedom of the Bow
Readings: Wisdom 3:1-9 | Psalm 23 | Romans 8:31-35, 37-39 | John 10:11-16
We gather today around the focal point of our lives: the Altar of God.
It is the place of Sacrifice. The place where heaven touches earth. And as we fix our eyes upon it, we can see how it’s made out of very strong stone, it’s a strong presence. Today we remember two groups of people, united in a single holy purpose – our brother priests and deacons who stood at this altar, and all the religious who served and prayed in the presence of this altar, and then also the generous benefactors who made it possible for that altar to stand.
There is a mystery in that partnership. Because the benefactor builds the stone; the priest calls down the Spirit. The benefactor gives from his substance to raise the altar; the priest stands at the edges to defend the flock. Both are true benefactors – from the Latin bene-facere, “doers of good” – united in glorifying Jesus Christ.
The Wolf Among the Sheep But if we speak of those who raise the altar, the Gospel of John compels us to speak also of those who would tear it down.
Christ tells us plainly: the Shepherd is not alone in the meadow. There is a Wolf. There is a thief who comes to steal, slaughter, and destroy.
We know this enemy. We’ve seen him in every age, though he wears different masks. Sometimes he appears as open persecution. Sometimes as the voice that whispers, “Don’t be extreme” or “Surely there’s a way to do this without too much inconvenience.”
This is the voice of the Hireling – the one who has no skin in the game, for whom truth is negotiable. The Hireling sees the Wolf coming, calculates the cost to his comfort, and abandons the sheep because he has no master worth dying for. And our Master shows us the way, by giving up His life for us.
I think of the young man I heard about recently who, when asked what he would do if threatened with death unless he converted to another faith, shrugged and said, “I wouldn’t mind converting. I’m agnostic anyway.” That is the logic of the Hireling. Truth is a preference, not a reality. Conviction is a suggestion, not a commitment.
The Choice But a priest, a deacon, a religious, a benefactor? These are people who have already made their choice.
They are not an agnostic shopping for the safest option. They are marked by an ontological sign, configured to Christ the Eternal High Priest, through Baptism.
And here is where we discover something beautiful, something paradoxical, something that the world cannot understand:
We bow to Jesus, so that we might stand before everyone else.
Think about what we do every day at this altar. We bow. We genuflect. We kneel. The entire liturgy is a school of bowing. Our lives are spent in postures of submission – profound bows, bent knees, prostrations on ordination day.
But here is the theology of the bow: Because we bow to the Real Presence, we cannot bow to any false presence. Because we submit to the law of the Gospel, we cannot submit to the tyranny of fear or fashion. Because we are slaves of Christ, we can be slaves to no other master.
This is the freedom of being a Christian! By binding ourselves to this Altar, we are freed from bondage to the spirit of the age.
Tested in the Furnace The Book of Wisdom tells us: “As gold in the furnace, he proved them.” To be proved means to be purified in the heat. Those we remember were not perfect people. But they were proven in the furnace. The pressures of their times – whatever wolves prowled their generation – tested them, and they were found worthy because they held fast. They handed on the faith intact. They refused to flee when the hireling would have run.
They preached Christ crucified – a stumbling block to some, foolishness to others, but to those who are called, the power and wisdom of God. If they had bowed to the spirit of their age instead of to Christ, we would not be here today. The altar would be empty.
Today we do not gather in despair, but in hope. We commend our brothers and sisters to the mercy of “God, trusting that the same Christ they served at this altar now welcomes them to the heavenly banquet.”
Our Call Today St Paul asks the question that rings through the ages: “If God is for us, who can be against us?” He doesn’t say “I have stayed off the field”. Instead Paul answers: “We are more than conquerors through him who loved us.”.
Sometimes knowing the sheep means protecting them from voices they want to follow. Sometimes standing at the altar means standing alone. Sometimes being a benefactor to the next generation means refusing to give them what they want in order to give them what they need.
The wolves of our own day may look different from those our predecessors faced. But the choice remains the same: Will we be Hirelings or Shepherds? Will we calculate the cost to our comfort, or will we remember that we have already spent our lives bowing to the One who spent His life on a Cross?
As we pray for the repose of the souls of our priests, deacons, religious and benefactors, let us ask them to intercede for us. Let us ask for the grace to be good benefactors, doers of good, to those who come after us – to build altars that will stand, to call down Fire that will not be extinguished.
Let us refuse to bow to the Wolf, because we have already, and irrevocably, bowed to the King.
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. Amen.
