My teen son noticed I was a bit quieter than usual as we sat, waiting for Mass to begin. Nothing was wrong, just a bit of fatigue and distraction. But he is the son most like me, so he is attuned to the tiny fractions of movement in the needs and moods of others, especially mine.
He leaned over. “Mom, are you okay?”
Without hesitation, I replied, straight-faced, looking forward, “Well, I’m dying.”
My son nearly blew snot out of his nose as he attempted to muffle his laugh in the quiet church.
“Yes, Mom. We are all dying. Each day is just one closer to death. So don’t waste it.”
This is an ongoing joke in our family. Not because we are morbid (okay, maybe we are) but because we as a family practice Memento Mori, the ancient Stoic meditation, borrowed by early Christians, “meditate on your death, so that you will live well.”
Yes, we tend to put our own darkly twisted humor on it, but the truth is, no one is getting out of here alive. Death is part of life. We believe that life after death will be even more glorious than the life we now live. The unknown can be fearful for many but meditating on our death helps us to live a more joyful life. And as a result, we are not afraid of dying. We believe in the life of the world to come.
“Do not be afraid.” This is what angels said when they appeared throughout the centuries. These are the first words our Lord says when He appeared after His resurrection. Whenever the gap between the world seen and unseen, this world and the one to come are bridged, we are told, do not be afraid.
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