Students honor the forgotten with Lazarus Ministry funerals
BOSTON -- The six young men, dressed in crisp suits, carried the silver casket up the winding staircase of St. Anthony Shrine in Downtown Boston.
When they reached the top of the stairs, the young men, students at Boston College High School in Dorchester, gently lowered the casket onto the catafalque and wheeled it into the chapel to the sound of "On Eagle's Wings." Franciscan Father Paul Keenan sprinkled holy water atop the casket, and the young men carefully laid the pall upon it. Inside the casket was the body of a man the students had never met. They did not even know his name until they were called to volunteer at his funeral Mass on April 7. Still, there were tears in their eyes.
The man's name was Roland Cantwell. At the time of his death from cancer on March 4, he lived in low-income housing in Dorchester. He was 69 years old. His funeral was one of many celebrated by St. Anthony's Lazarus Ministry, which since 2003 has provided funerals for people who died without any known relatives to handle their burial. Many of them struggled with homelessness in life.
"His life was not easy," Father Keenan said of Cantwell in his homily. "It would have been understandable if he gave up at some point, but he never did. He had a strong faith. He had a strong sense of loyalty."
Cantwell grew up in Brockton. He lost his hearing when he was a teenager and was disowned by his parents for engaging in behavior they disapproved of. In 1976, he encountered Franciscan Father Kevin Cronin, then stationed at St. Anthony's in Downtown Boston.
"He just left the Moonies or something like that, and he was all in ragtag with flip flops on his feet and homeless," Father Cronin recalled to The Pilot. "So, I brought him back here, got him a shower, got him some clothes, and got him going."
Father Cronin left St. Anthony Shrine in 1982, but he and Cantwell corresponded for decades after that. In his letters, Cantwell would talk candidly about his struggles, his spirituality, and his experiences with social workers. He wrote poetry and drew cartoons.
"He was sincere, he was authentic, he was faithful," Father Cronin said. "He was creative, a little spacey in his thinking."
In his homily, Father Keenan praised the "great sense of humor" Cantwell displayed in his letters. He would jokingly call Father Cronin "Your Holiness," and Father Cronin would call him "Brother Roland Merton," a reference to Trappist Father Thomas Merton. Like Cantwell, Father Merton was a poet.
"Think about all the things he was facing," Father Keenan said. "He was still able to keep his humor."
On the day Cantwell died, his friend Faith Tsimekles called Father Cronin, now residing in New Jersey. She did not know who would provide for Cantwell's burial and thought Father Cronin could help. He was prepared to help before discovering that St. Anthony's would take care of everything.
"I think this is fabulous," he said of the Lazarus Ministry.
Cantwell's funeral was the first time that Tsimekles, a lifelong Boston resident, visited the shrine.
"I asked them if there was anything I could do, volunteer something to give back what they gave me today," she said, adding, "I'm grateful and thankful to St. Anthony's for what they did today."
Tsimekles knew Cantwell for 12 years.
"Roland was a character," she said. "His sense of humor, his artwork."
He would submit his writings and drawings for publication in The Pilgrim, a quarterly magazine consisting of creative work by homeless and formerly homeless people in Boston.
"He loved doing what he did," Tsimekles said.
Students from B.C. High and St. Mary of the Annunciation School in Melrose volunteer at Lazarus Ministry funerals. Eighth graders in Mark Flint's religion class at St. Mary's attended Lazarus funerals throughout Lent to prepare for their upcoming confirmations. They also sponsored a walkathon that raised $2,345 for the ministry.
"Attending Roland's funeral really made me feel like part of his family," eighth grader Sean Reardon said. "This service was very moving for me, and hearing his story really put how hard being homeless really is. We will all miss Roland very much."
Father Keenan told the students that they were "heroes" and that Cantwell would appreciate their presence. He said that Cantwell was helped by many people in his life, and he repaid them with kindness.
"Enjoy this journey of life," Father Keenan said. "You are our future."
After Mass, the BC High students took the casket out of the chapel and back down the staircase. They stopped momentarily to view a poster board covered in photos of Cantwell and captioned "The Many Faces of Bro. Roland Cantwell SFO, as he liked to be called." The students' faces were hard and sorrowful. Below the poster was a box full of letters from Cantwell that Father Cronin had collected for over 40 years. Looking through the letters on the day of the funeral, he found a Father's Day card Cantwell had sent him one year.
"Happy Father's Day from your heavenly child," it read.
Father Cronin said he was touched by that because Cantwell is "in Heaven now."
The card continued: "Home, time, and society has forsaken, still 'till my last dying breath I still have my heart's intentions placed in your favor."
Father Cronin gripped the railing with one hand as he watched Cantwell's casket go down the stairs. The students took it out of the shrine and into the cold, dark Arch Street morning. The top of the casket was pelted with rain, where drops of holy water had once been. They loaded the casket into the hearse.
"Roland is finally resting," Tsimekles said. "He's at peace. And I hope someday I can do the same."