Atausiujunnguqtut Aippiq, 26-nik Ukiuqaqtut Isumagijauvut

Inuusiq una, inuusiq una, inuusiq una. Uqausiq Job-mi uqaqpuq, 'Naked I came forth from my mother's womb, and naked shall I go back again.' Taanna uqausiq, taanna uqausiq, uqumaittuq. Uqumaittuq, kisiani, taanna uqausiq, taanna uqausiq, uummammi saqquqpuq. Benjamin-up inuusia, 15-nik ukiuqaqtilluni, inuusiqaqtilluni, inuit takulaurtangit silataani. Benjamin-up inuusia, taanna 'masterpiece-ngulluni', uummataup salumajunianik ammalu asijinik asujinik tatatitaulluni. Benjamin-up inuusia, 15-nik ukiuqaqtilluni, inuit takulaurtangit silataani: silatualuuniranga, mathematics-mi pialuktuuninga, coding-mi ammalu technology-mi qaujimaninga. Taakkua pitsiaqtut, silataani qaumajut. Kisiani, Benjamin-up inuusia sanningajuup ujaqqatut tomb-tut ippunngilaq. Ben-up uummanga light-vallaalaurpuq, open-vallaalaurpuq, free-vallaalaurpuq. Ben-up uummanga walk-laurpuq Ataniup aqqutingitigut with a pure, simple heart.

'Whoever receives this child in my name receives me,' Jesus says in the Gospel. Think of the way a child holds a secret, or the way they look at a bird in the sky with eyes that have not yet learned to be cynical. Benjamin was that boy. He was the boy who looked at the horizon and saw not a limit, but a runway for his dreams. He was the boy who sat at his keyboard, building worlds in code, his mind moving faster than the machines he loved. He was the boy who giggled when he spoke of 'con chim airlines,' his voice bright with the pure, unburdened joy of a heart that knew it was loved.

Alan, Thao, Ryan—I know the weight you carry. I know the silence that settles in the hallway when the sun goes down. I know the ache that comes when you see a plane in the sky and your first instinct is to tell him, to share the wonder with him. Do not fear this ache. Do not think that this sorrow is a sign of a lack of faith. It is the price of a love that was, and is, magnificent. When Job lost everything, he did not turn away. He fell to the ground, he tore his cloak, and he blessed the name of the Lord. He did not understand the 'why,' and he did not pretend to. He simply stood in the truth of his humanity, before the mystery of God.

There is a profound, quiet truth in the way a bird takes flight, or the way an airplane climbs into the vast, open sky. Benjamin loved that. He loved the freedom of it. He loved the way the world looked from above, from a place where the troubles of the earth seem so small. And that is where he is now. He is in the 'Banquet of Heaven,' soaring in the light of the Father, free from all weight, breathing the pure air of heaven. He is not gone. He is simply in the place where the sun never sets, where the wind does not just blow in circles, but rests in the peace of the Creator.

Ryan, my dear younger brother, Ben's best friend. You stood beside Ben in front of the cockpit display at the museum; you sat beside him on the bench at the laundromat; you stood beside him outside Phở 54 in your scout uniforms. Ryan, Ben loved you with all his heart. You were his partner in adventure, his brother, his daily companion. When you miss him, when the house feels too quiet, remember that Ben's mind and heart were deeply bonded to yours. You carry Ben's memory inside you. Live your life fully, Ryan! Study hard, play, laugh, explore tech or aviation or whatever brings you joy, knowing that your big brother Ben is cheering you on from heaven's best vantage point.

To all aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, and friends who loved Benjamin: Ben's life illuminated what it means to be truly wise. He was brilliant in math and computer logic, yet he was humble, respectful, and sweet-natured. He showed us that real intelligence is never loud or boastful; real intelligence is gentle, generous, and full of love. Benjamin’s life was a gift, a reflection of the Light that came into the world through Mary. He was a boy who looked at the world with wonder, a boy who built games and dreamed of 'con chim airlines', a boy who offered his piggy bank to help his uncle. These are not just memories; they are the fruits of a life lived in the grace of God.

To everyone tuning in from afar—especially families who are carrying heavy crosses, parents who grieve, and children who are suffering in hospitals or homes: You are seen by God. The Gospel reminds us today that Jesus' authority is not a heavy hand that crushes us, but a loving hand that heals, sets free, and restores. The Lord is just in all His ways, gracious, merciful, slow to anger, and full of great kindness. He lifts up all who are falling and raises up all who are bowed down. Benjamin Vo is now in that Banquet, standing beside Saint Carlo Acutis. Two brilliant, modern boys who loved technology, who loved the world, but who loved God more. They are not dead; they are more alive than we are. They are soaring in the light of the Father, free from all weight, breathing the pure air of heaven. Ben's legacy continues to flow on earth, like the clean, life-sustaining water from the 'Giếng Gioan Baotixita' well dedicated in his name in Cà Mau, Vietnam. His middle name, Đại Dương—Great Ocean—remains a sign of God's limitless mercy flowing to those in need.

What can we carry out the door today? Today, when you encounter a complex problem, or when your heart feels overwhelmed by sadness, take a slow breath and remember Saint Paul's words: 'For to me life is Christ, and death is gain.' Stop seeking answers only in human logic or earthly worry. Turn your mind to Jesus. Look up at the sky, just like Ben loved to watch airplanes soar into the clouds, and remember that God's authority is peace, God's Word is love, and Benjamin Vo is safe in the Father's eternal embrace. Let us pray: 'Lord Jesus Christ, You spoke with authority in the synagogue and brought peace to the hearts of all. Grant us the mind of Christ, that we may see beyond earthly tears into the eternal light of Your Kingdom. Comfort Alan, Thao, and Ryan with Your deep peace. Hold Benjamin Đại Dương Vo close in Your heavenly joy until we all meet again at Your eternal Banquet. Amen.'