Death is not the end of the story. It is but a precursor to the Resurrection.
Dear friend,
When I set out to write this letter, I hesitated to speak about the tragedy that has recently touched Thomas Aquinas College. I was concerned that addressing such a painful event in this context could seem insensitive. But with the encouragement of my longtime colleague Chris Weinkopf, I came to see that there was no better way to address Lent’s themes of suffering and death than to observe the grief that consumed our community on January 16.
That morning, the Weinkopfs’ son Joseph, a sophomore on our California campus, died from an epileptic seizure. In the weeks that have followed, our students have persevered in hope while mourning the loss of a classmate, a friend, and a brother in Christ.
As you may imagine, this experience has put us in a fittingly somber mood as we enter the Lenten season. It has also served as a valuable, solemn reminder of the importance of Thomas Aquinas College’s mission and work. Put simply: Everything we do here is ordered to preparing young men and women for life in the world to come.
“For no sooner do we begin to live in this dying body, than we begin to move ceaselessly toward death,” writes St. Augustine in The City of God. “Our whole life is nothing but a race toward death, in which no one is allowed to stand still for a little space, or to go somewhat more slowly, but all are driven forward with an impartial movement, and with equal rapidity.”
As Augustine observes, whether we are blessed with a long, full life or, like Joe, one that seems to end all too soon, there’s no delaying or eluding God’s appointed hour. And no matter how much time we spend on this earth, it’s a blink of an eye compared to the eternity that awaits.
Death is not the end of the story. It is but a precursor to the Resurrection.
For Catholic education to have any lasting meaning, then, it must do much more than simply prepare a student for a first job or even a career. It must be directed at preparing each student for his ultimate end, helping him to grow in faith and virtue, to know, love, and serve God more completely.
What I have seen these last few weeks makes me hopeful that, by God’s grace, we are succeeding in this most noble effort.
In the heartfelt obituary they published for their son, the Weinkopfs wrote:
To our joy, it was spiritually that Joe grew the most while at the College, with daily Mass and nightly visits to the dorm chapel. … On the last night of his earthly life, he joined his friends in chalking Epiphany blessings above every door in their residence hall, ebulliently singing Christmas carols along the way. Later, after completing a work-study shift at the campus coffee shop, he came to the Chapel, where he prayed before the Blessed Sacrament until curfew. …
Inspired by his reading of St. Augustine’s reflections on death and salvation in Sophomore Theology, he worked hard to foster the spirit of surrender that would prepare him to meet His Lord.
The last days of Joe’s life were grace-filled. And in the following days, we experienced even more grace, as the community, despite its pain, came together to mourn and honor him.
I recall the morning Joe died, when the full student body, faculty, and staff joined his family for the midday Mass to pray for the repose of his soul. Days later, I saw students setting up folding chairs in the Chapel’s side aisles to accommodate the much larger crowd that would come for his funeral Mass, with hundreds more spilling into the loggia. And at his gravesite, we watched tearfully as Joe’s dormmates from St. Junipero Serra Hall dropped to their knees and bid him farewell by singing the Salve Regina.
As Joe’s brothers and friends carried his casket out from Our Lady of the Most Holy Trinity Chapel, members of the Thomas Aquinas College Choir filled the nave with the refrains of “O God Beyond All Praising,” a hymn we sing at our graduation Mass. At that moment, the song’s second verse seemed especially poignant:
The flower of earthly splendor in time must surely die,
its fragile bloom surrender to you, the Lord most high;
but hidden from all nature, the eternal seed is sown
though small in mortal stature, to Heaven’s garden grown:
for Christ, the man from Heaven, from death has set us free,
and we, through Him, are given the final victory.
These have been trying times, to be sure, but they have also been deeply consoling. Witnessing the tremendous outpouring of prayer, love, and hope that has followed Joe Weinkopf’s death has shown me, once again, what a blessing it is to be part of Thomas Aquinas College. Over the last month, members of the Weinkopf family have asked to create a scholarship in Joe’s honor. With their support, we have established the Joseph Weinkopf Annual Scholarship Fund, which will help provide students like Joe with the Catholic liberal education that he so treasured.
Pray for Joe and the consolation of his family, and would you please include his scholarship fund in your Lenten almsgiving?
Yours in Christ,
Paul J. O’Reilly, Ph.D.
President