“Exitus acta probat”: Funeral Homily for Matt Anthony
July 16, 2025 – Feast of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel
Immaculate Conception Parish
Dardenne Prairie, Missouri
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
There are moments in life when our words falter. When the weight of grief silences us. This is one of those moments.
Matt’s sudden death—at just 44 years old, in an act of selfless love—leaves us stunned. His passing seems too early, too painful, too incomprehensible. And we may ask, with heavy hearts: Why, Lord? Why someone so faithful, so generous, so young? Why this way?
These are the same questions that filled the hearts of Martha and Mary when their brother Lazarus died. And what did Jesus do when He arrived at the tomb? He wept.
The Son of God—who would raise Lazarus from the dead—stood before death and cried. He was deeply moved, not only by the sorrow of His friends, but by the very weight of death itself.
Jesus wept—and those tears are divine. They reveal the heart of God, grieving with us, sharing our pain, not explaining death away, but entering into it with us. We weep and He weeps with us today.
And yet He also proclaims: “I am the Resurrection and the Life. Whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live” (John 11:25).
This is our faith and this is our hope. Not a vague comfort or platitude, but the concrete promise of Christ—who has gone through death and conquered it. Who loves us with a love that nothing—not even death—can separate us from.
As we just heard in that solemn passage from St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans: “What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will anguish, or distress, or persecution…? No! In all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through Him who loved us” (Romans 8:35, 37).
We know we are not alone in this sorrow. We all feel the absence of Matt.
We are consoled by the words of the first reading today from the book of wisdom: “The just man, though he die early, shall be at rest… he who pleased God was loved” (Wisdom 4:7, 10–11).
Because we love Matt so much we can all identify with the words St. Augustine wrote in his Confessions when a dear friend of his died: “My eyes searched for him everywhere, but he was not there… My heart was darkened by sorrow… I had become a puzzle unto myself… for I had lost half my soul” (Confessions, Book IV).
That’s what grief feels like—the world is somehow off-kilter. And yet even there, God meets us. Yes, indeed, it is only in and through this encounter with the risen Lord that even in the midst of our sorrow, we can give thanks to Him. As the Lord of Life and Death He gave us Matt. And as the Lord of life and death, he called him back to himself. In fact, Matt’s very name, Matthew, means “gift of the Lord.” Today, therefore, we especially thank our Lord not only for Matt himself, but also for the signs that God further gifted him with that show how close he was to God.
Matt was an excellent professional. He had a quick mind, a generous spirit, and an intense love for learning. He went to Chaminade Prep for high school here in St. Louis, and then majored in Classics with a minor in Philosophy at Notre Dame. He started a PhD program at NYU in New York but when he discovered it wasn’t to his liking he became a teacher and taught at The Heights School, in Maryland. It was then that I had the opportunity to get to know him better since I was also the chaplain there. Also, he and I worked closely together for 2 years at Tenley Study Center in Washington, D.C., and for 4 years on the Midwest Council of Opus Dei. For the last three years as I was serving as the Vicar of Opus Dei in the US and Canada, Matt was my right hand man, essentially carrying out the function of CEO of the Prelature in North America. By then he had also worked in Rome for a number of years serving on the council of the Prelate and traveling all over the world.
But whatever work he took on—whether memorizing Greek vocabulary words, teaching, mentoring, organizing formational activities, managing an office, or forming others—he did it with care, precision, and depth.
Matt was very proud of having been born on the feast day of St. Thomas Aquinas, and of having been named after him —his middle name was in fact Thomas. And like the Angelic Doctor, Matt became a consummate teacher—not only in the classroom but in life itself. He truly lived by the Thomistic motto contemplata aliis tradere—“to hand on to others the things he had contemplated.” And he did this in big and small ways. Whether it was a book he read, a podcast he listened to, or an idea that would come into his head—he would explain it at length and with passion. (I don’t think I need to read books on Washington, Grant, Truman, the French and Indian War or WWII for a while since I have listened to Matt literally for hours holding forth on these topics!)
But more deeply, he also handed on what he himself was living interiorly. He shared his spiritual life, his prayer, his intellectual insight—with those he worked with or mentored.
He was both serious and joyful. Intense and generous (sometimes he was too intense but he learned to curb that over time). He knew how to think in solitude and in dialogue with others, to listen carefully and be a team player. In all this what really drove him was a deep zeal for God.
He followed Christ very closely from the time he was in high school when he discovered the spirituality of Opus Dei at Wespine Study Center. If you knew him personally, from then on, his life was marked by a deep unity of purpose that embraced his whole life: whether he would be studying, helping a friend, writing a report, or just relaxing with a cigar—he tried to do everything for Christ.
Following this path, Matt went to Mass daily, prayed before the Blessed Sacrament, said the Rosary, and did spiritual reading everyday.
At some point he even invited me to read one article of the Summa per day—in Latin of course. I tried to keep up with him but I couldn’t after a while.
Regardless, he tried hard to live out what St. Josemaría, the Founder of Opus Dei, wrote in The Way: “Don’t let your life be sterile. Be useful. Blaze a trail. Shine with the light of your faith and of your love” (The Way, no. 1).
That was Matt. His was not a sterile life—it was rich, fruitful and bright.
He was, as St. Paul says to the Romans, aflame with the Spirit. Or as he writes to the Ephesians: filled with all the fullness of God (Ephesians 3:19). That’s why people around the world have been praying. Because they saw in him the glow of God.
As you can intuit, Matt admired many figures from history—especially from the American founding and the Civil War. He loved quoting the Latin motto carved into the Washington Arch near NYU, where he once studied: Exitus acta probat — “The outcome proves the worth of the actions.” After pointing out the pithy nature of the Latin grammar of the phrase, on at least three occasions I heard Matt explain how the expression was especially appropriate to describe George Washington, because his decision to relinquish power after victory revealed the true nobility of his character throughout his life.
Today, I don’t think Matt would mind if I applied this expression to him, even though I cannot explain the features of the Latin grammar.
His final act—jumping into a deep pool of frigid mountain water to try to save a friend’s life who was drowning—proved the full weight of all his daily acts of love and life commitment.
This final act was not improvised. On the contrary, it was the fruit of his struggle to pour out his life for others on a day to day basis, silently, generously—and in the end, heroically.
As our Lord said before he suffered: “No one has greater love than this: to lay down one’s life for a friend” (John 15:13).
And with the grace of God that is what Matt did.
Thanks to the extraordinary efforts of Juan Heredia, a freelance diver, on Saturday, June 21st, three days after the deadly incident, Matt’s body was pulled out of the water along with those of Matt Schoenecker and Val Creus, who also drowned with him.
That day was the feast of St. Aloysius Gonzaga when the Church reads in the Liturgy of the Hours (St. Aloysius Gonzaga, June 21) the following passage from this saint’s letter to his mother as he was about to die. It says:
“When He [the Lord] takes away what He once lent us, —think of Matt here on loan to us from God— His purpose is to store our treasure elsewhere more safely and bestow on us those very blessings that we ourselves would most choose to have. —and how true this is for us today who are now receiving so many blessings from above.
And the letter continues:
“I write all this with the one desire that you and all my family may consider my departure a joy and a favor—and that you especially may speed with a mother’s blessing my passage across the waters till I reach the shore to which all hopes belong”.
Matt could have written this letter to his own mother Sue (who passed three years ago), and to Our Lady of Mt. Carmel whose scapular he wore and who promised to take us to God on a Saturday; or to all of us, because we can be certain that their motherly blessing and intercession from above, as well as our suffrages for him today will speed up his passage across the waters till he reaches the shore to which all hopes belong, if they have not already done so.
On behalf of the Prelate of Opus Dei, Msgr. Fernando Ocariz, I offer heartfelt condolences, prayers and gratitude:
To Matt’s family: Paul, his father; John and Becky, his brother and sister-in-law; Martita, his sister; his nephews, aunts, uncles, cousins;
To the families of those who died with him.
To all who have lived with Matt most recently in NY but in other cities as well;
To his colleagues and friends;
To the diver who recovered the bodies of Matt, Matt and Val;
To the sheriff’s office and emergency personnel;
To my brother priests, especially Msgr. Wojcicki and Immaculate Conception Parish;
And to all who have united themselves to us through prayer through the Communion of Saints.
Now please join me in praying: Lord, as we entrust Matt’s soul to your mercy, to you, the One he sought to serve every day, we ask that we not remain indifferent. You have loved us greatly through the gift of Matt’s life and now it is our turn to correspond in kind by directing our life towards You and to strive to serve our neighbor whoever he or she may be. Amen.
United in Grieving and Hope: The faithful of the Prelature of Opus Dei have been united in mourning the loss of three members—Matt Anthony (44), Val Creus (59), and Matt Schoenecker (50)—who died tragically in a swimming accident in the Sierra Nevada Mountains on June 18, 2025. Continue reading…
Cover image: Washington Square Park Arch via Unsplash



