I’ve shamelessly borrowed the title of Walker Percy’s final novel because it vividly illustrates our year thus far: the devaluing of human life and the unnatural fixation with one of the only two certainties of life: thanatos - death. This situation is a result of the deChristianization of our culture long underway and thanks to COVID-19 now nakedly apparent.
What follows are a series of vignettes I’ve written on death and fear and the appropriate perspective we should have on these in light of Christ. Death - absent Christ - is soul-sucking. In November, when we pray in an intensified way for those who have died, we find an opportunity to be reminded that death will someday come for us too, and the Christ to Whom we commend our beloved dead can help us find meaning in our eventual death and properly prepare for it. In fact, because of Christ, death is God’s gift. Rather than a drop into the abyss of nothingness, death is an exit to communion with God. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If it is to be life in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better (Philippians 1:21-23). The year 2020 has laid bare the civilizational rot that has been spreading for quite sometime. Ours is undoubtedly a post-Christian society. The emergence of COVID-19 has forced us to confront our mortality en masse; in our pride we think we can prevent death by it, and regardless of the cost; in our despair we feel hamstrung by our vulnerability, and rage because we’ve long ago denied the only satisfactory solution to the realities of our human condition - Christ. While we know, at least abstractly, that death is inevitable and that it comes in many forms, we’ve anesthetized ourselves to its lessons by hiding it to a great extent from sight; by presuming that pretty much everyone goes to heaven and if there is a hell it is only for those particularly nasty few (insert the name of a dictator or serial killer here); that God, if we think of Him at all, is just a distant “Nice Guy” who’s indifferent to our behavior and gives us treats when we demand them. The wrath of God is indeed being revealed from heaven against every impiety and wickedness of those who suppress the truth by their wickedness…While claiming to be wise, they became fools (Romans 1:18; 22). Who of us can honestly say, together with St. Francis of Assisi, “Praise be to You, my Lord through Sister Death, from whom no one living can escape. Woe to those who die in mortal sin! Blessed are they She finds doing Your will. No second death can do them harm. Praise and bless my Lord and give Him thanks, and serve Him with great humility.” If we can’t, we are in essence dead before we’re dead, not living the way it really matters. Let us thus ask St. Francis for the help to see death as he saw it, for such a vision will lead to a manner of living in accord with the will of God. "Fear not that thy life shall come to an end, but rather fear that it shall never have a beginning” (St. John Henry Newman). Our desire for deathlessness is only met by loving the things of this earth and also of letting go of them. It is about submitting to time, realizing that it is God’s creation and that our attempts to evade its imperatives are sinful. Time teaches us that we cannot hold onto our lives, no matter how tightly, and so the only proper response is to pour ourselves out into the world. In imitation of Christ we must give ourselves so that others may live. If we all engage in self-giving we are all enriched by well-lived lives. Each of us can do this - it is not contingent on our station in life, or our education, or our wealth, “Remember that all worlds draw to an end and that noble death is a treasure which no one is too poor to buy” (the centaur Roonwit to King Tirian of Narnia in The Last Battle, by C.S. Lewis). This quote is from a fictional character but the message is certainly not a fiction: a life well-lived leads to noble death. Fear has its place, not as a fetish, where we masochistically suffer a multi-month Halloween fright-fest, nor as a straight-jacket immobilizing us from living life. Fear is an emotion that should lead us to positive action. Yes, difficulties can cloud our minds and we don’t always feel the Lord’s presence. We may even wonder, as Jesus verbalized on the Cross, if God had abandoned Him, My God, my God, why have you abandoned me? Jesus gives the assurance that God has not, that God will, in His own good time, deliver us from the darkness that confounds us, And I will live for the Lord; my descendants will serve you. The generation to come will be told of the Lord that they may proclaim to a people yet unborn the deliverance you have brought (Psalm 22:1; 32). “As Christians and Americans, in this our awkward duality of citizenship, we seek to be faithful in a time not of our choosing but of our testing. We resist the hubris of presuming that it is the definitive time and place of historical promise or tragedy, but it is our time and place” (Fr. Richard John Neuhaus). We learn that it is not necessarily the results that count, but the will to try to do what is right. And if the rewards don’t come immediately, there is no need to despair, for by God’s grace there will be heavenly glory. David J. Conrad This weekend we celebrate All Saints and All Souls (Commemoration of the Faithful Departed). We will have the special “All Souls” Memorial Mass at 5:00pm today (Sunday) to remember those who are no longer with us; those we have lost during this past year. The list is long; (just look at all the little crosses in the Baptistry). Think of all the people who are affected by the deaths on that list! The Church in its wisdom gives us the opportunity to remember and celebrate those who have gone before—family and friends, heroes and healers, those we know and those we have never personally met; they form a great cloud of witnesses of the faith: the Communion of Saints.
Today in the Gospel we hear the Beatitudes: a series of paradoxes, surprises, reversals; a topsy-turvy universe is being set right. The word found in all of them is Makarios (in Greek), meaning “blessed” or “happy” or perhaps even “lucky.” “Blessed are the poor in spirit...” How lucky you are if you are not addicted to material things! Jesus is telling us how to realize our deepest desire: the desire for God first. (Remember last week and the ‘Love Law’ ?) “Blessed are they who mourn...” which means “How lucky are you if you are not addicted to good feelings!” Doing the will of God sometimes involves the acceptance of enormous pain, and sacrifice. “Blessed are the meek...” One of the greatest seductions that the world holds out to us is worldly power—instead of letting the power of the will of God reign in us. You get the idea… Scholars say that three of the Beatitudes were almost certainly formulated by Jesus—the ones addressed to the poor, the hungry, and the mourners. They also say that the original meaning of the Beatitudes is closer to the way Luke phrased them in his Gospel, referring to the distress people suffered from social and economic conditions in the first century—and certainly still suffer—in the here and now. The Beatitudes speak to us of the serious problems in today’s upside-down world. “Blessed are the poor…” But where is this a blessing? We know that there is a one percent in our world—that the wealth and resources go to this smallest percent of our population—that undermine and fracture our societies and democracy. Those with money and resources influence our politics for their own good rather than the common good; they drive down wages and dodge taxes. “Blessed are the hungry..” We know there is a food crisis in the world—and it is certainly worsened by this global pandemic. How will the hungry be satisfied? We have a Catholic mandate to help the marginalized and outcasts. “Blessed are they who mourn…” That’s all of us who care for the grief and loss in our lives—a long list, sometimes. We mourn for ourselves and our neighbors, for the oppressed and vulnerable among us. We mourn for our planet and for other species that are becoming extinct through greed and thoughtlessness about climate change and other environmental issues. We mourn over the denial of truth from our government leaders and big media and all the other “bigs.” We mourn over the loss of regulations and programs that have sought to protect the most vulnerable among us. But with all that, the Gospel tells us that we will be comforted. Who’s going to lift all these people out of poverty, to feed them, comfort them—and when? Paul’s letter to the Corinthians gives us the answer: God calls us to stand up for justice, and that our efforts, however small they are, will bring shame and change to those who follow the ways of the world and worship its power. So, there is comfort in the face of all of this. People caught in hopeless situations may manage to hold on in spite of it all. We know that the world has seen devastation and disaster before, and we will prevail because, as Paul says, we will go forward doing what we are called to do—speaking truth and doing justice. It’s not easy these days, given the particular times in which we are living, but God is with us always! We all have been richly blessed by those saints and souls who have gone before, who have laid a foundation of faith and example that gives us the encouragement to draw closer to God and do God’s work. I pray that we will never forget any of them and what they have given us; and I am grateful for the opportunity to remember. We have been blessed by those who have gone; as God's people need a sense of history. We need to see the “great cloud of witnesses” of saints and souls that surround us because we need to know that we are part of something bigger than ourselves. Just as we are part of something that began long before we were born, we are a part of something that will go on long after we have passed into new life. We are all moving toward the same thing: an intersection with the lives of faithful people (Saints) who have gone before us (Souls)—because we're all part of the same overarching story—the story of God's redemption of his creation through Jesus. Keep singing in your hearts! Elizabeth Dyc Just a Note: Today I am posting “Salmo 150” (Psalm 150) by Ernani Aguiar, performed by the professional choir with whom my son, Elliott, sings. (He is in New York recording his parts—the pots and pans are back!) In thinking about Saints and Souls, I can imagine this amazing piece of music being sung in heaven by our Saints and Souls in the heavenly choir. One of the lines from the psalm is: “Let everything that has breath praise the Lord” (in Latin). You will see what I mean by the “breath” part in listening to this energetic and lovely rendition of a psalm of praise of God. Enjoy! Salmo 150: https://youtu.be/E8A5cU2g4dE |
AuthorsDavid J. Conrad, M.A. Theology. Our Director of Faith Formation. Archives
April 2024
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St. Aidan Catholic Church
17500 Farmington Rd. Livonia, MI 48152 Phone: 734-425-5950 office@saintaidanlivonia.org Weekend Mass Schedule Saturday Vigil: 5:00 PM Sunday: 7:30, 9:30, 11:30 AM |