This is the sixth in a series of articles on the Four Last Things: Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell.
After some sobering reflection on death and judgment over the past several days, it’s finally time to talk about Heaven. Now that is a topic everyone wants to hear about! Yet there is a strange disconnect today. As it becomes easier and easier to satisfy our desire for instant gratification, we find it harder and harder to take the time to ponder a future paradise.
Almost no one talks about Heaven today—except perhaps at funerals—and then it is often to inappropriately presume the instant promotion of the deceased through Heaven’s gate.
The way most of our prayers sound today, it seems that we would be content to have God make this world a better place. People will ask God to improve their health and solve their financial problems, but rarely will they express any desire to go to Heaven and be with Him. It is almost as if we were saying to God, “If you’ll make this world a little more comfortable I’ll just stay here forever!”
Many older prayers speak of longing for Heaven. The “Hail, Holy Queen” laments that we live in exile, in a valley of tears, and are poor, banished children of Eve, who long to see the blessed fruit of Mary’s womb, Jesus. Many old hymns refer to being free at last, to flying away to Heaven some bright morning when this life is over, to looking forward to that day. Yes, soon and very soon we are going to see the King! Older churches were designed to remind Catholics of Heaven; their structures were often centered around the vision of Heaven.
Do you long for Heaven or are you just trying to make it through the day? When was the last time you heard a sermon about Heaven? Does the thought of it excite you? It is after all our reward, which eye has not seen and ear has not heard!
A big factor for the lack of longing for Heaven is that our lives are so comfortable these days. It is a kind of comfort that both distracts us from spiritual things and focuses us on worldly things. Our comforts also make the cross seem strange, even immoral. If Heaven is obtained through the cross, many say “It’s too much trouble.” They would rather focus on getting that new channel added to their cable television service or planning a cruise.
Add to this that we live in a world that is utterly upside down, a world in which most are not rich in what matters to God, a world that obsesses over passing and trivial things and pays little mind to eternal and heavenly things. Learning to love Heaven can mean some pretty radical things. It often means being willing to be 180 degrees out of phase with the world’s priorities and preoccupations.
St. Cyprian pondered this problem, which seems to have been evident to some degree in the wealthy city of Carthage:
[Regarding death] we struggle and resist like self-willed slaves and are brought into the Lord’s presence with sorrow and lamentation, not freely consenting to our departure, but constrained by necessity.
Why then do we pray for the kingdom of heaven to come if this earthly bondage pleases us? … If we should rather serve the devil here than reign with Christ?
The world hates Christians, so why give your love to it instead of following Christ, who loves you and has redeemed you? So banish the fear of death and think of the eternal life that follows. That will show people that we really live our faith.
Who of us, if he had long been a sojourner in a foreign land would not desire to return to his native country? Who of us, when he had begun to sail there would not wish for a prosperous wind to carry him to his desired home with speed, that he might sooner embrace his friends and relatives? We must account paradise our country (De Mortalitate, 26).
Heaven is something we must learn to love. In this it is like many of the finer things in life. Its appeal may not be immediately obvious, but having been trained in its ways, we learn to love it very deeply.
If we think that it is only natural to love Heaven, we must become more sober. The fact is, we have obtuse spirits. We live in a fallen world, governed by a fallen angel, and we have fallen natures. We tend to love that which is destructive and harmful, and even knowing that, we are still attracted to it. We tend to esteem that which is foolish and passing, while glamorizing evil. We tend to call “good” or “no big deal” what God calls sinful.
G.K. Chesterton observed,
The point of the story of Satan is not that he revolted against being in hell, but that he revolted against being in heaven. The point about Adam is not that he was discontented with the conditions of this earth, but that he was discontented with the conditions of paradise (New York American, 12-15-1932).
If Satan revolted against Heaven even while still in Heaven, and Adam preferred something to paradise while still in paradise, how much more should we be sober about the fact that it is very easy for us, who have not yet seen paradise or Heaven, to despise or minimize the value of the glory of God’s Kingdom.
Help us, Lord, to desire Heaven, to learn its ways, to learn of you, and to love you above all things.
Jesus Christ is King of Thieves, though He never stole. He is savior of sinners, though He never sinned.
Today’s Gospel chosen presents Jesus as reigning from the cross. Nothing could be more paradoxical. Let’s look at it from four perspectives:
Vision –Today’s Gospel presents a vision or image of the Church.We like to think of more pleasant images: the Church is the Bride of Christ or the Body of Christ. Today’s image is more humbling to be sure: the Church is Christ, crucified between two thieves.
Yes, this is the Church too. In a way, we are all thieves.We are all sinners and have used the gifts and things that belong to God in a way contrary to His will. To misuse things that belong to others is a form of theft.
Consider some of the things we claim as our own and how easily we misuse them:our bodies, our time, our talents, our money, the gift of our speech, and the gift of our freedom. We call them ours but they really belong to God, and if we use them in ways contrary to His intention we are guilty of a form of theft.
Variance –Consider, also, that the two thieves were very different. In the Church we have saints and sinners, and in the world there are those who will turn to Christ and be saved and others who will turn away and be lost.
One thief (the “bad thief”) derides Jesus and makes demands of Him.Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!The text says that this thief “reviles” Jesus, treating him with contempt.
The other thief (the “good thief”) reverences Christ and rebukes the other, saying,Have you no fear of God?The good thief recognizes his guilt: We have been condemned justly. He asks, Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom, but he leaves the terms of it up to Christ. He acknowledges that he is a thief and now places his life under the authority of Christ the King.
Christ came to call sinners—thieves, if you will.Yes, we are all thieves, but pray God that we are the good thief, the repentant thief, the thief who is now ready to submit himself to the authority of Christ, who is King of all creation.
Heaven is a real steal, something we don’t deserve; it is only accessed through repentance and faith. The bad thief wants relief but will not open the door of his heart so that Jesus can save him. Mercy is offered and available to him, but it is accessed only through repentance and faith. The good thief does open the door of his heart and thereby is saved.
III. Veracity–Is Christ really your king?A King has authority, so another way of posing this question is, “Does Christ have authority in your life?” Consider whether you acknowledge that everything you call your own really belongs to God and think about how well you use those gifts.
How do you use our time?
Are you committed to pray and to attend Mass every Sunday without fail?
Do you use enough of your time to serve God and others, or merely for selfish pursuits?
Do you use the gift of your speech to witness and evangelize, or merely for small talk and gossip?
Do you exhibit proper care for your body?
Are you chaste?
Do you observe proper safety or are you sometimes reckless?
Do you reverence life?
Are you faithful to the Lord’s command to tithe?
Do you spend wisely?
Do you pay your debts in a timely way?
Are you generous enough to the poor and needy?
Do you love the poor and help them to sustain their lives?
It is one thing to call Christ our King, but it is another to be truly under His authority. The Lord is clear enough in telling us that he expects our obedience: Why do you call me, “Lord, Lord,” but do not do what I tell you? (Luke 6:46)
Is Christ your King? Which thief are you, really?
Victory –The thief who asked Jesus to remember him manifested repentance, faith, and a kind of baptism of desire. In so doing, he moved into the victor’s column. Jesus’s words, Today you shall be with me in paradise,indicate a dramatic shift in the thief’s fortunes.
To be with Jesus—wherever He is—is paradise and victory. Soon enough, the heavens will be opened, but the victory is now and paradise begins now.
Thus the good thief claims the victory through his choice for Jesus Christ. Will you have the victory? That depends on whether you choose the prince of this world or the King of the Universe, Jesus. Some think that they can tread some middle path, choosing neither Jesus nor Satan. But if you do that, you’ve actually chosen the prince of this world, who loves compromise. Jesus says, Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters(Matt 12:30).
As for me, I’ve decided to make Jesus my choice. I pray that he will truly be my King in all things and that my choice will be more than mere lip service. Come, Jesus, reign in my heart. Let me begin to experience victory and paradise, even now!
This is the Fifth in a series of articles on the Four Last Things: Death, Judgment, Heaven and Hell.
I’ve often been impressed by the ability of old African-American spirituals to treat serious subjects in a clear, memorable, and almost joyful way. This is true even of weighty matters like sin and judgment. During early November we are focused on the four last things (death, judgment, Heaven, and hell) and November is also Black Catholic History Month. So, this seems like a good time to look at some of the creative lines from different spirituals that articulate these topics.
It can be very helpful to the preacher, teacher, and parent in recovering an ethos of coming judgment, but in a way that is almost playfully bright while at the same time deeply soulful.
In a certain sense, the spirituals are unimpeachable, even by hypersensitive post-moderns who seek to shame preachers for announcing sterner biblical themes. Most of the spirituals were written by slaves, who creatively worked biblical themes into these songs that helped accompany both their work and their worship.
The spirituals were written in the cauldron of great suffering. If any people might be excused from thinking that the Lord would exempt them from judgment day, it was surely the enslaved in the deep South. If any people might be excused from crying out for vengeance, it was they. Yet the spirituals are almost entirely devoid of condemning language; enslaved blacks sang in ways that looked also to their own sins and the need to be prepared. If they were prepared, God, who knew their trouble, would help them steal away to Jesus. They did not see themselves as exempt from the need to be ready.
If they, who worked hard in the cotton fields and endured the horrors of slavery, thought these texts applied to them, how much more do they apply to us, who recline on our couches and speak of our freedom to do as we please?
Here are some lines from a few of the many spirituals that speak to judgment and the last things:
I would not be a sinner, I’ll tell you the reason why. I’m afraid my Lord might call my name and I wouldn’t be ready to die.
Some go to Church for to sing and shout, before six months they’s all turned out!
Everybody talkin’ ’bout heaven ain’t a goin’ there, Oh my Lord!
Where shall I be when the first trumpet sounds? Oh where shall I be when it sounds so loud, when it sounds so loud as to wake up the dead? Oh where shall I be when it sounds? How will it be with my poor soul, Oh where shall I be?
Better watch my brother how you walk on the cross! Your foot might slip and your soul get lost!
God gave Noah the rainbow sign, no more water but the fire next time!
Old Satan wears a hypocrite’s shoe, If you don’t watch he’ll slip it on you!
Noah, Noah let me come in! The doors are fastened and the windows pinned! fastened an’ de winders pinned Noah said, “Ya lost your track Can’t plow straight! you keep a-lookin’ back!
Knock at the window knock at the door Callin’ brother Noah Can’t you take more? No said Noah cause you’re full of sin! God has the key you can’t get in!
Well I went to the rock to hide my face The rock cried out, no hiding place There’s no hiding place down here Oh the rock cried I’m burnin’ too! I wanna go to heaven just as much as you!
Oh sinner man better repent! Oh you’d better repent for God’s gonna call you to judgment There’s no hiding place down there!
No signal for another train To follow in this line Oh sinner you’re forever lost When once you’re left behind. She’s nearing now the station Oh, sinner don’t be vain But come and get your ticket Be ready for that train!
Sinner please don’t let this harvest pass And die and lose your soul at last.
My Lord, what a morning
When the stars begin to fall You’ll hear the trumpet sound, to wake the nations underground Looking to my God’s right hand, When the stars begin to fall
You’ll hear the sinner moan,
When the stars begin to fall You’ll hear the Christian shout, Oh, when the stars begin to fall!
Most of these songs are deeply scriptural and make serious appeals to the human soul, but they do so in a way that is creative. They get you tapping your foot and invite you to a joyful consideration of the need to repent before it’s too late. Others are more soulful, even mournful, in their pentatonic scale.
Given all the reluctance to discuss the four last things (death, judgment, Heaven, and Hell), songs like these may help to reopen the door to necessary conversations between preacher and congregation, parents and children. They are a valuable resource.
I’d like to conclude with a creative spiritual about the last judgment. Note that it is rich in biblical references. It is joyful—a real toe-tapper—and makes a serious point along with a wish.
In That Great Getting’ Up Mornin’ Fare You Well
I’m gonna tell ya ’bout da comin’ of da judgment Dere’s a better day a comin’, Fare thee well, fare thee well!
Chorus: In dat great gettin’ up mornin’, Fare thee well, fare thee well In dat great gettin’ up mornin’, Fare thee well, fare thee well
Oh preacher fold yo’ bible, For dat last souls converted, Fare thee well, fare thee well
Blow yo’ trumpet Gabriel, Lord, how loud shall I blow it? Blow it right and calm and easy,
Do not alarm all my people, Tell dem all come to da judgment, Fare thee well, fare thee well!
Do you see dem coffins burstin’, do you see dem folks is risin’ Do you see dat fork of lightnin’, Do you hear dat rumblin’ thunder? Fare thee well, fare thee well!
Do you see dem stars a fallin’, Do you see da world on fire? Fare thee well, fare thee well
Do you see dem Saints is risin’, Fare thee well, fare thee well See ’em marchin’ home for heaven, Fare thee well, fare thee well
Oh! Fare thee well poor sinners, fare thee well, fare thee well Fare thee well poor sinners, fare thee well, fare thee well!
This is the fourth in a series of articles on the Four Last Things: Death, Judgment, Heaven and Hell.
We turn our attention now to the judgment that awaits us all. Scripture speaks in the Book of Hebrews speaks rather plainly to this day for us all:
It is appointed for us to die once, and after that to face judgment (Heb 9:27).
For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil (2 Cor 5:10).
Furthermore, the Father judges no one, but has assigned all judgment to the Son, so that all may honor the Son just as they honor the Father (Jn 5:22-23).
The Gospel of Luke emphasizes the reverence we should have for Jesus and for His role as our judge:
But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear the One who, after you have been killed, has power to throw you into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear Him (Lk 12:5).
There is a distinction to be made between our personal judgment and the general judgment of the whole world (e.g., Matt 24:31ff). In the general judgment, God’s truth and justice will be made manifest; all those who have loved evil will be seen by all for who and what they were. Further, every evil and foolish philosophy will be seen for the darkness it is. Today I will not be discussing this general judgment, but rather our personal judgment.
We need to attend to our own judgment and prepare for it by seeking God and His grace so as to be ready. St. Paul entrusts us to Jesus, who alone can save us from the coming wrath (see 1 Thess 3:13).
Indeed, Jesus was quite urgent and persistent in warning us of the judgment that is coming upon us. He did this in many ways, but most urgently in the parables.
In the posts over the next few days, we will be examining our certain and coming judgment. We will look at Jesus’ consistent warnings to prepare for our judgment. We will reflect on our tendency to be inattentive to our day of judgment. We will then ponder a way to prepare. Finally, we will consider how we can tip the scales of judgment toward mercy.
Today, let’s begin by pondering the text of the Dies Irae, which sets forth the biblical themes of our judgment as well as a plea for mercy. The context in this case is the general judgment, but its themes also apply in many ways to our personal judgment:
The hymn opens by referring to God’s “wrath.” (I’ve written more on wrath here.) Wrath is a term used to describe the complete incompatibility of sin in the presence of the All Holy One, a sinner brought into the Lord’s presence. We have every reason to be sober that the awesome holiness of God will disclose all that is in need of purification. The hymn begins as follows:
Day of wrath and doom impending,
Heaven and earth in ashes ending,
David’s words with Sibyl’s blending.
No one can treat this moment lightly: all are summoned to holy fear. At the sound of the trumpet, the bodies of the dead will come forth from their tombs and all of creation will answer to Jesus, the Judge and Lord of all:
Oh what fear man’s bosom rendeth,
When from heaven the judge descendeth,
On whose sentence all dependeth.
Wondrous sound the trumpet flingeth,
Through earth’s sepulchers it ringeth,
All before the throne it bringeth.
Death is struck and nature quaking,
All creation is awaking,
To its judge an answer making.
Lo the book exactly worded,
Wherein all hath been recorded,
Thence shall judgement be awarded.
When the Judge his seat attaineth,
And each hidden deed arraigneth,
Nothing unavenged remaineth.
Judgment shall be according to our deeds, whatever is written in the Book (Rev 20:12; Romans 2:6). Ah, but also in God’s Word is the hope for mercy. And so our hymn turns to pondering the need for mercy and appealing to God for it. The hope for mercy is based on the grace of God, His mercy, His incarnation, His seeking love, His passion and death, and the forgiveness He showed to Mary Magdalene and the good thief crucified on His right.
What shall I, frail man, be pleading?
Who for me be interceding
When the just are mercy needing?
King of majesty tremendous,
Who does free salvation send us,
Font of pity then befriend us.
Think kind Jesus, my salvation,
Caused thy wondrous incarnation.
Leave me not to reprobation.
Faint and weary thou hast sought me,
On the cross of suffering bought me.
Shall such grace be vainly brought me?
Righteous judge for sin’s pollution,
Grant thy gift of absolution,
Before the day of retribution.
Guilty now I pour my moaning,
All my shame and anguish owning.
Spare, O God my suppliant groaning.
Through the sinful Mary shriven,
Through the dying thief forgiven,
Thou to me a hope has given.
Yes, there is a basis for hope! God is rich in mercy. Pondering the Day of Judgment is salutary because now we can call on that mercy. In the end, it is only grace and mercy that can see us through that day. So the hymn calls on the Lord, who said, No one who calls on me will I ever reject (Jn 6:37).
Worthless are my tears and sighing.
Yet good Lord in grace complying,
Rescue me from fire undying.
With thy sheep a place provide me.
From the goats afar divide me,
To thy right hand do thou guide me.
When the wicked are confounded,
Doomed to flames of woe unbounded.
Call me with thy saints surrounded.
Lo I kneel with heart-submission.
See like ashes my contrition.
Help me in my last condition.
Now comes the great summation: Judgment Day is surely coming. Grant me, O Lord, your grace to be ready:
Lo, that day of tears and mourning,
from the dust of earth returning.
Man for judgement must prepare him,
Spare O God, in mercy spare him.
Sweet Jesus Lord most blest,
Grant the dead eternal rest.
This is the third in a series of articles on the Four Last Things: Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell.
Yesterday we pondered the fear of death and some understandable reasons for it, but we also considered how a lack of lively faith can lead to a fear of death that is unchristian. As St. Paul admonishes regarding death,
We do not want you to … grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep (1 Thess 4:13-14).
How do you see death? Do you long to one day depart this life and go home to God? St. Paul wrote to the Philippians of his longing to leave this world. He was not suicidal; he just wanted to be with God:
Christ will be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me life is Christ, and death is gain. If I go on living in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. And I do not know which I shall choose. I am caught between the two. I long to depart this life and be with Christ, for that is far better. Yet that I remain in the flesh is more necessary for your benefit (Phil 1:20-23).
I am struck by the fact that almost no one speaks publicly of a longing to depart this life and be with God. I suspect that it is because we live very comfortably, at least in the affluent West. Many of the daily hardships with which even our most recent ancestors struggled have been minimized if not eliminated. I suppose that when the struggles of this life are minimized, fewer people long to leave it and go to Heaven. They set their sights, hopes, and prayers on having things be better here. “God, please give me better health, a better marriage, more money, a promotion at work.” In other words, “Make this world an even better place for me and I’ll be perfectly content to stay right here.”
Longing to be with God was more evident in the older prayers, many of which were written just a few generations ago. Consider, for example, the well-known Salve Regina and note (especially in the words I have highlighted in bold) this longing.
Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, our life, our sweetness, and our hope. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning, and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us, and after this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus. O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.
This prayer acknowledges in a realistic and sober way that life here can be very difficult. Rather than ask for deliverance from all of it—for this world is an exile, after all—it simply expresses a longing to go to Heaven and be worthy to see Jesus. It is this longing that I sense is somewhat absent in our modern world, even among regular churchgoers.
When was the last time you meditated on Heaven? When was the last time you heard a sermon on Heaven? I understand that we all have a natural fear of and aversion to dying, but a Christian should have a deepening thirst for God that begins to erode this. St. Francis praised God for sister bodily death, which no one can escape (Canticum Fratris Solis). And why not praise God for death? It is what ultimately brings us home.
In regard to death as gain, St. Ambrose had this to say in a meditation on the occasion of his brother’s death:
Death was not part of nature; it became part of nature. God did not decree death from the beginning; he prescribed it as a remedy. Human life was condemned because of sin to unremitting labor and unbearable sorrow and so began to experience the burden of wretchedness. There had to be a limit to its evils; death had to restore what life had forfeited. Without the assistance of grace, immortality is more of a burden than a blessing.
We see that death is gain, life is loss. Paul says: For me life is Christ, and death a gain. What does “Christ” mean but to die in the body, and receive the breath of life? Let us then die with Christ, to live with Christ.
We should have a daily familiarity with death, a daily desire for death. By this kind of detachment our soul must learn to free itself from the desires of the body. It must soar above earthly lusts to a place where they cannot come near, to hold it fast. It must take on the likeness of death, to avoid the punishment of death.
The law of our fallen nature is at war with the law of our reason and subjects the law of reason to the law of error. What is the remedy? Who will set me free from this body of death? The grace of God, through Jesus Christ, our Lord (taken from a book by St. Ambrose, bishop, on the death of his brother, Satyrus (Lib. 2, 40. 41. 46. 47. 132. 133)).
As for me, I will say it: I long to leave this world one day and go home to be with God. I am not suicidal and I love what I do here, but I can’t wait to be with Him. I don’t mind getting older because it means I’m that much closer to home. In our youth-centered culture, people (women, especially) are encouraged to be anxious about aging. When I hit forty, I said, “Hallelujah, I’m closer to home.” Now nearing 60, I rejoice even more. I’m glad to be getting older. God has made me wiser and He is preparing me to meet Him. I can’t wait!
Even a necessary stopover in Purgatory cannot eclipse the joy of the day we die. There will surely be suffering preceding our death, but deep in our hearts—if we are believers—must ring forth the word, “Soon!” An old spiritual says, “Soon I will be done with the troubles of this world, going home to live with God.”
So I ask you again: How do you see death? Do you long for Heaven? Do you long to depart this world and be with God? I know that you want to finish raising your children first, but do you rejoice as the years tick by and the goal becomes closer? A prayer in the Roman Missal says,
O God, who makes the minds of the faithful to be of one accord, grant to your people to love what you command and to desire what you promise, that, among the changes of this world, our hearts may there be fixed where true joys are (Collect, 21st Sunday of the Year).
I close with some words from Psalm 27:
One thing I ask from the LORD, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the LORD … My heart says of you, “Seek his face!” Your face, LORD, I will seek. Do not hide your face from me (Psalm, 27:4, 8-9).
As you listen to this spiritual, think about the harsh conditions endured by the slaves who wrote it:
This is the second in a series of articles on the Four Last Things: Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell.
For us faithful, the day we die is the greatest day of our life on this earth. Even if some final purification awaits us, the beatific vision for which we long lies just ahead; our exile in this valley of tears is ended.
Is calling the day we die the greatest day of our life too strong a statement? I have seen some fellow Christians wince at it. In this age of emphasis on worldly comforts, medicine, and the secular, we rarely speak of Heaven—or Hell for that matter. I wonder if we have lost some of our longing for Heaven and cling too strongly to the trinkets of this life.
At the funeral of a relative several years ago, I was approached by a friend of the family. She was an unbeliever, a self-described secular humanist, and she made the following comment to me: “Perhaps there is Heaven for the faithful who believe that there is life after death, and perhaps for them the day they die is the greatest day of their life, but I do not observe that Christians live as if they believe this. It seems to me that they are as anxious as anyone else about dying and earnestly seek to avoid death just as much as anyone else.”
It was a very interesting observation, one that I found mildly embarrassing. I quickly thought of some legitimate explanations and proposed them to her, but the embarrassment remained. We Christians sometimes fail to give witness to our most fundamental values. Based on her remark—and I’ve heard it before—most of us don’t manifest a very ardent longing for Heaven.
There are, of course, some legitimate and understandable reasons that we do not rush towards death:
There is a natural fear of dying. It is part of our physical makeup and, it would seem, hard-wired into our psyche as well. Every sentient being on this planet, man or animal, has a strong instinct for survival. Without this instinct, strongly tied to both hunger and sexual desire, we might die not only as individuals but as a species. It also drives us to look to the future, as we work to ensure the survival, even thriving, of our children and those who will come after us. It is a basic human instinct that we ought not to expect to disappear because it has necessary and useful aspects.
We would like to finish certain important things before we die. It makes sense, for example, that parents would like to see their children well into adulthood. Parents rightly view their existence in this world as critical to their children. Hence, we cling to our life here not just for our own sake but because others depend upon us.
The Christian is called to love life at every stage. Most of us realize that we are called to love and appreciate what we have here, for it is the gift of God. To so utterly despise this world that we wish only to leave it manifests a strange sort of ingratitude. It also shows a lack of understanding that life here prepares us for the fuller life that is to come. I remember that at a low point in my own life, afflicted with anxiety and depression, I asked the Lord to please end my life quickly and take me home out of this misery. Without hearing words, I felt the Lord’s silent rebuke: “Until you learn to love the life you have now, you will not love eternal life. If you can’t learn to appreciate the glory of the gifts of this life, then you will not and cannot embrace the fullness of eternal life.” Indeed, I was seeing eternal life merely in terms of relief or escape from this life, rather than as the full blossoming of a life that has been healed and made whole. We don’t embrace life by trying to escape from it. A healthy Christian attitude is to love life as we have it now, even as we yearn and strive for a life that we do not yet fully comprehend: a life that eye has not seen nor ear heard, what God has prepared for those who love Him.
We seek to set our life in order before facing judgment. While it is true that we can procrastinate, there is a proper sense of wanting time to make amends and to prepare to meet God.
We fear the experience of dying. Dying is something none of us has ever done before and we have a natural fear of the unknown. Further, most of us realize that the dying process likely involves some degree of pain. Instinctively and understandably, we draw back from such things.
Even Jesus, in His human nature, recoiled at the thought of the agony before Him—so much so that He sweat blood and asked that the cup of suffering be taken from Him if possible. Manfully, though, He embraced His Father’s will, and our benefit rather than His own. Still, in His humanity, He did recoil at the suffering soon to befall Him.
Despite this hesitancy to meet death, the day we die is indeed the greatest day of our life. While we ought to regard the day of our judgment with sober reverence, we should go with joyful hope to the Lord, who loves us and for whom we have longed. That day of judgment, awesome though it is, will for the future saint disclose only that which needs final healing in purgation, not that which merits damnation.
We don’t hear much longing for our last day on this earth or for God and Heaven. Instead, we hear fretting about how we’re getting older. We’re anxious about our health, even the natural effects of aging. And there are such grim looks as death approaches! Where is the joy one might expect? Does our faith really make a difference for us or are we like those who have no hope? Older prayers referred to life in this world as an exile and expressed a longing for God and Heaven, but few of today’s prayers or sermons speak this way.
Here are some of the not-so-legitimate reasons that we may draw back from dying:
Our life in this world is comfortable. While comfort is not the same as happiness, it is very appealing. It is also deceiving, seductive, and addictive. It is deceiving because it tends to make us think that this world can be our paradise. It is seductive because it draws our focus away from the God of comforts to the comforts of God. We would rather have the gift than the Giver. It is addictive because we can’t ever seem to get enough of it; we seem to spend our whole life working toward gaining more and more comforts. We become preoccupied by achieving rather than working toward our truest happiness, which is to be with God in Heaven.
We are worldly. Comfort leads to worldliness. Here, worldliness means focusing on making the world more comfortable while allowing notions of God and Heaven to recede into the background. Even the so-called spiritual life of many Christians is almost wholly devoted to prayers asking to make this world a better place: Improve my health; fix my finances; grant me that promotion. While it is not wrong to pray about such things, the cumulative effect, combined with our silence on more spiritual and eternal things, gives the impression that we are saying to God, “Make this world a better place and I’ll just be happy to stay here forever.” What a total loss! This world is not the point. It is not the goal; Heaven is. Being with God forever is the goal.
Being with God seems abstract and less desirable than our life in this world. With this magnificent comfort that leads to worldly preoccupation, longing for Heaven and being with God recedes into the background of our thoughts. Few speak of Heaven or even long for it inwardly. They’d rather have that new cell phone or the cable upgrade with the enhanced sports package. Some say that they never hear about Hell in sermons, and in many parishes (though not in mine) that is regrettably the case. They almost never hear about Heaven, either (except in some cheesy funeral moments that miss the target altogether and make Heaven seem trivial rather than a glorious gift to be sought). Heaven just isn’t on most people’s radar except as a vague abstraction for some far-off time—certainly not now.
This perfect storm of comfort and worldliness leads to slothful aversion to heavenly gifts. That may be why, when I say that the day we die is the greatest day of our life, or that I’m glad to be getting older because I’m getting closer to the time when I can go home to God, or that I can’t wait to meet Him, people look at me strangely and seem to wonder whether I need therapy.
No, I don’t need therapy—at least not for this. I’m simply verbalizing the ultimate longing of every human heart. Addiction to comfort has deceived and seduced us such that we are no longer in touch with our heart’s greatest longing; we cling to passing things. I would argue (as did my family friend) that we seem little different from those who have no hope. We no longer witness to a joyful journey to God that says, “I’m closer to home. Soon and very soon I am going to see the King. Soon I will be done with the troubles of this world. I’m going home to be with God!”
There are legitimate, understandable reasons for being averse to dying, but how about even a glimmer of excitement from the faithful as we see that our journey is coming to an end? St. Paul wrote the following to the Thessalonians regarding death: We do not want you to be like those who have no hope (1 Thess 4:13). Do we witness to the glory of going to be with God or not? On the whole, it would seem that we do not.
The video below features a rendition of the hymn “For All the Saints Who from Their Labors Rest.” Here is a brief passage from the lyrics:
The golden evening brightens in the West,
Soon, soon, to faithful warriors cometh rest.
Sweet is the calm of Paradise most blest. Alleluia!
This is the first in a series of articles on the Four Last Things: Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell.
You are going to die and you don’t get to say when or how. I say this at every funeral, both to those present and to myself. This solemn reminder is hard to process. It is one thing to assent to this obvious truth intellectually, but it is another thing to internalize it in our depths and really know what it means.
What is death? Some speak of heartbeats that stop or brain waves that cease, but that is not what death is. The cessation of vital indicators is the effect of death, not death itself.
Part of the mystery of death is that it is presupposed by another equally deep and mysterious question: What is life? Some say that life is organized energy, but this answer also misses the mark. It describes what life does, not what it is.
The force we call life is mysterious. We see its effects. We know when it is present and when it is gone, but we do not know exactly what it is. Just because we have a word for something doesn’t mean we understand it. Similarly, death is mysterious. I have been at the bedside of parishioners and my own loved ones at the moment of death and I cannot adequately articulate how strangely baffling it is. There is labored breathing; sometimes there are nervous twitches. Occasionally some words are spoken. Then, suddenly, there is a great stillness. The mysterious force that we call life has departed; the soul, the animating principle of living things, is gone.
I remember looking at my sister, my father, and my mother as each lay in the casket. They were there and yet they were not. When I looked at my mother, she seemed alive; I fully expected her to look at me and tell me to comb my hair or that she loved me—but she was not there. Her body had lost that mysterious spark and force we call life. Her soul had departed.
Looking at my father’s still body in the hospital room where he died was overwhelming. He had been a giant in my life. He still looms large in my memory; his voice rings in my soul. But there he was lying still in that hospital bed—and yet he was not there. Something deeply mysterious had happened. The hidden, mysterious life force of his soul was gone even though there seemed to have been no change in the appearance of his body.
Sadly, I have had to have several of my pets put down over the years. In those cases, too, the mystery of life and death is evident. An animal is alive one moment and then suddenly grows still. Even with plants and trees, I have seen them healthy and green only to be astonished when they die. What happened? The life is gone; a mysterious, organizing principle and force has departed—but what it is we do not know. We do not see death, only its effects.
I am overwhelmed in the face of death, at the mystery of it and the mystery of what has departed: life, a force that cannot be seen or measured, that does not tip the scales of scientists or involve our senses but that is nonetheless very real.
Especially in its inception, life is mysterious. Consider an acorn. In appearance, it is not so different from a small stone. Yet if you were to put both in the soil, the stone would sit there forever and do nothing; the acorn, though has a mysterious spark, a life force in or around it that springs forth to become a mighty oak. What is that spark? Where is it? An acorn has it but a stone does not. Why? Only God really knows.
It was my father who first taught me of the mystery of life. When I was a child, he told me that one of the deepest experiences of his life had occurred when he was about my age:
It had suddenly occurred to him, coming into his mind like a bolt out of the blue, that he existed. He cried out, “I exist!” and then grew silent in astonishment.
He said that ever since that moment he had never ceased to be amazed and awed at the mysterious fact of his existence. Indeed, it is an awesome mystery. Why do I exist? Why do you exist? Why is there anything at all?
As my Father grew silent in amazement, so must I. I have already said too much. The word mystery comes from the Greek muein, meaning to shut the mouth or close the eyes. As we begin a meditation on the Four Last Things, (death, judgment, Heaven, and Hell), ponder with awe and reverential silence the great mystery of life and death.
Tomorrow I will discuss some of the more practical aspects of death.
During the month of November, the Church has us ponder the Four Last Things: death, judgment, Heaven, and Hell. As the golden gown of autumn gives way to the lifeless look of winter, we are encouraged to see that our lives are on a trajectory that leads to autumn and then to the winter of death. But those who have faith know that this passage to death ultimately leads to glory. Scripture says, And the world passes away, and the lust of it; but he who does the will of God abides forever(1 John 2:17).
In today’s Gospel, the Lord Jesus gives us a kind of road map of life and calls us to be sober about the passing and perilous nature of this world.
There is an historical context in which our Lord speaks. There were political rumblings in Israel in the early 30s AD that would eventually lead to war. Hatred of the Romans was growing among the Jews. The Zealot party and other factions were gaining power. In today’s Gospel, Jesus prophesies that war will come and lead to Jerusalem’s ultimate destruction; everything that the people know will pass away. By the summer of 66 AD, a three-and-a-half-year war was underway that resulted in the complete destruction of Jerusalem and the death of 1.2 million Jews. Josephus recorded the war in great detail in his work The Jewish War.
That is what this text meant historically. But we also need to understand what it means for us today. So let’s look at the text from that perspective. Today’s Gospel can be seen in three major sections.
I. Portrait of Passing Things–While some people were speaking about how the temple was adorned with costly stones and votive offerings, Jesus said, “All that you see here—the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down.” Then they asked him, “Teacher, when will this happen? And what sign will there be when all these things are about to happen?” Notice how they admire the temple and its beauty. But the Lord reminds them that although it is glorious now, it will all be destroyed. We, too, must understand that whatever glory we see or experience in this world will not last; in the end it will all pass away.
The Temple is a symbol of passing things. Just as it was once in splendor and now is gone, so everything we see today will pass. This is a sober truth that we must come to accept, difficult though it may be. Other Scriptures also remind us of this truth: The world as we know it is passing away(1 Cor 7:29). And the world passes away, and the lust of it; but he who does the will of God abides forever(1 John 2:17). This world is passing and we, too, will pass from it one day.
Note, however, that for them as well as for us, although one world ends, another begins.The Old Testament, Old Covenant, and ritual order of the Temple was ending, but the New Testament age of the Church was beginning. It was already breaking forth even as the old was coming to an end.
And so we should not lament the end of this world or even our own death. A newer, greater world—that of Heaven—awaits those who are faithful. In fact, through the liturgy and the sacraments, that new world is already breaking forth for those who partake of it.
II. Points of Passage to Promised Things– Having been informed that all things will pass, the disciples ask for signs that will precede the coming end. We can learn from what Jesus teaches them and apply it to our own lives today.
Jesus warns them of four perils on the passage to the promised land of the New Testament age of the Church. We, too, will experience dangers in our journey to the promised land of Heaven.
A. False Messiahs–“See that you not be deceived, for many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he,’ and ‘The time has come.’ Do not follow them!” If you want Jesus Christ to be the Lord of your life, then you’ve got to get rid of false messiahs.
Too many people give greater authority in their life to people and worldly things than they do to Jesus Christ and His teachings. We submit our lives to all sorts of fads, fashions, philosophies, and people in hopes that we will be happy.
Perhaps it is someone in power whom we admire, or someone in the media whom we allow to influence us inordinately. Perhaps it is political positions that we allow to trump the Scriptures and the teachings of the Church. Perhaps it is just our personal convictions or ideas that we allow to overrule God’s teachings.
A false messiah is anything or anyone other than Jesus Christ telling you how to organize your life. Before Christ can reign unambiguously in your life, false powers and influences have to go.
Too many people look only to science, popular culture, economics, medicine, education, politics, and the like for guidance; they have been deceived.
It is not that we can’t use these things at all, but they are not a replacement for the Messiah. None of these things or people died for you. Only Jesus did that.
The power to save you isnot in the statehouse, the courthouse, or the White House—it is in the saving blood, of the Lamb, our Lord Jesus Christ.
B. Fierce Militarism– “When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for such things must happen first, but it will not immediately be the end.” Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom.”A war was looming for those ancient people.
We, too, are in a war, a battle.Before Christ can reign unambiguously within you, the false powers in you must be defeated. But they will not go without a fight. The world, the flesh, and the devil can be expected to wage a fierce battle in order to keep their power.
Are you in a battle?You should be! Too many Christians have lost the sense of battle. Scripture says, Resist the devil and he will flee from you(James 4:7). Yet not only do too many people not resist him, they welcome him! Scripture also says, Stand therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the equipment of the gospel of peace; besides all these, taking the shield of faith, with which you can quench all the flaming darts of the evil one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God (Eph 6:14).
An old hymn says, I’ve seen lightning flashing, and hear the thunder roll, I’ve felt sin-breakers dashing, which tried to conquer my soul; I’ve heard the voice of my savior, he bid me still to fight on. He promised never to leave me never to leave me alone.
On our way to the promised landof Heaven, we will encounter necessary battles: battles for what is right, battles against sin, battles for proper priorities.
C. Far-flung Marvels–“There will be powerful earthquakes, famines, and plagues from place to place; and awesome sights and mighty signs will come from the sky.”In the time of Jesus and the era just preceding the war, there were in fact many earthquakes, droughts, and even heavenly signs. Historians of the time wrote of a comet and strange views of what we know today as the Aurora Borealis.
But what of us? What are the earthquakes of our life?Earthquakes involve the shaking of the ground, the shaking of that which seems most stable to us. What is the foundation of yourlife?
For most of us, the foundations of this world are things likemoney, politics, friends, family, and our own skills. All of these things are shaken in life and all of them will eventually fail. Our talents and abilities fade as we age. Friends and family members move away, fail us, and eventually die. Political power and worldly access ultimately fails. Haven’t we all experienced our world shaken, our soul famished, the plagues of sin infecting our world and ourselves?
Furthermore, haven’t stars grown cold, meteors fallen from the sky, the sun been hidden from our eyes from time to time?Has not our world at times been “turned upside down”? Maybe it was the sudden death of a loved one, the loss of a job, or a diagnosis of cancer.
This is why God must be our ultimate foundation, the star by which we navigate.If Jesus is not our foundation, then something else is. Without God as our foundation, we cannot last. The foundations of this world will all ultimately crumble. Christ must be our sure foundation.
D. Fearful Malice– “Before all this happens, however, they will seize and persecute you, they will hand you over to the synagogues and to prisons, and they will have you led before kings and governors because of my name. It will lead to your giving testimony. Remember, you are not to prepare your defense beforehand, for I myself shall give you a wisdom in speaking that all your adversaries will be powerless to resist or refute. You will even be handed over by parents, brothers, relatives, and friends and they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all because of my name, but not a hair on your head will be destroyed.” The early Christians were greatly persecuted. Most of us in the Christian West have had less to suffer, more difficult days may well be ahead as the secular West grows increasingly hostile to traditional Christianity.
Persecution, however, is an expected part of the Christian journey to the promised land of Heaven. Even if we are not “handed over,” many of us today are not taken seriously, are written off, or are called names even by our friends and family.
Christ tells us not to worry about such things because they are part of the normal Christian life. Even if some of us eventually lose our life for the faith, the Lord promises that not a hair of our head will be harmed. That is, our souls will be saved. The world can only harm our body; it cannot harm our soul unless we allow it to do so.
3. Prescription for the Passage to Promised Things– “By your perseverance you will secure your lives.”We must always journey on and not lose faith or lose heart. There is glory waiting for us if we persevere.
Scripture says, But he who endures to the end will be saved(Mat 10:22). “For yet a little while, and the coming one shall come and shall not tarry; but my righteous one shall live by faith, and if he shrinks back, my soul has no pleasure in him.” We are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who have faith and keep their souls(Heb 10:37).
An old spiritual says, “Hold on just a little while longer; everything’s gonna be all right.”
In this regard, the end of the Book of Daniel also seems pertinent:[Daniel asked the Archangel Gabriel], “My lord, what will the outcome of all this be?” He replied, “Go your way, Daniel, because the words are rolled up and sealed until the time of the end. Many will be purified, made spotless and refined, but the wicked will continue to be wicked. None of the wicked will understand, but those who are wise will understand. … As for you, go your way till the end. You will die, yet at the end of the days you will rise to receive your reward”(Daniel 12:8-10, 13).
Yes, on our journey through this passing world it is necessary to persevere unto the end. If we do not, greater woes will come. If we do, there will be glory for us on the other side.
After some sobering reflection on death and judgment over the past several days, it’s finally time to talk about Heaven. Now that is a topic everyone wants to hear about! Yet there is a strange disconnect today. As it becomes easier and easier to satisfy our desire for instant gratification, we find it harder and harder to take the time to ponder a future paradise.
