I was drawn to Hope Cemetery to visit Fr. Bob Bedard a couple of weeks ago. This man was in my early life for about 10-11 years. 

Amid all the horrendous examples of the Priesthood we have seen of late, my steadfast respect and admiration for that sacrament and vocation came from the superior example of an ordinary life. An Ottawa man, and hardcore Sens fan. 

He was a man who could never remember names, so he took it upon himself to carry a notebook, and intentionally write down names of people he had met. Yes, I vividly remember his notebook (who else does?). But more importantly, I remember how fatherly he was. When I spoke to him, man did he really listen. His gaze was so loving and gentle. Witty too. He paid attention. 

I know there are hundreds “logical proofs” of God’s existence, refuted and proved by philosophers and theologians, christians and atheists alike, but none of that has ever been appealing for me. I frankly don’t care if you can disprove or prove it based on a set of premises. 

Rather, for me, it was the mere goodness Fr. Bob radiated, practicing what he believed. And most importantly, radiating the deep and true joy and peace that only comes from being consumed by Love itself. These things inspired me to explore and wrestle with the Faith I was brought up in as a kid, instead of just passing as a nominal one. 

He was a man who loved God. That love and deep reverence inspired me as a child. It left a mark. 

Today is his 9th death anniversary. I’m grateful I got to visit him a few weeks ago. I’m also grateful for the faith tradition I belong to that encourages us to visit the dead, and pray for the souls of the faithful departed. 

Our intrinsic dignity is not lost at death. We must not forget that, regardless of creed. 

“As for me I will press on, 
in running the race”

@companionsofthecross

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