Reflecting On A Happy Death

Back in 2003, shortly after the crash of the Space Shuttle Columbia, I wrote this short article about the Catholic teaching on death. It was brought to mind this morning by a tragic event in our local Parish. Yesterday afternoon, Deacon Mike Mims lost his life in a helicopter accident. Though we did not know him in a personal way, he was obviously a man who knew, loved, and served God in this life. We know only the barest of facts from the tragic crash that claimed his life, but the circumstances suggest that the Deacon may have had some awareness of what was about to happen to him, and this gives us some hope, as I have explained in the article that follows. As we mourn the loss of his presence in our parish and we pray for the comfort of his family, we can also reflect on our own impending death. 

“60 seconds of fear”

When I saw the headline declaring that the Columbia crew may have had as much as one minute knowing what would happen before their ship exploded, my Catholic mind sighed with relief. But this was not the response of the writer of the article, or of the world. Why is this? Is it because I am some sort of masochistic fanatic who wants others to suffer? Or is it because the world has little idea of the importance of those last sixty seconds before death. 

Happy Death

Catholics have a habit of praying for a happy death. For a long time, growing up, I thought this meant a painless death, one with little suffering. But this is far from the truth. The truth is closer to what a good friend used to say: the best way to die would be on a plane you knew was going down sitting next to a priest. In the Catholic mind, a happy death is one in which we have the opportunity to meet death with a willing heart, and a recently cleaned soul.

Suffering is Good

It is common for the loved ones of those who have died to console one another with the fact that the deceased “didn’t suffer”, “went quickly” or “died in their sleep”. And in many ways these phrases can be comforting. No one wishes that a loved one will suffer. However, imagine that loved one has things in his life that he regrets but has never asked for forgiveness. Or perhaps he has behaviors and habits that turn him from God and he has stubbornly held onto them. 

Let’s face it, none of us is without sin, and all of us have neglected our relationship with God in some way or another. It is only in this life that we can freely turn to God and ask for healing and forgiveness. Once we have died, our fate is sealed. 

We all know that we will one day die, but seldom do we have a chance to know ahead of time when that will be. Most of us imagine, or at least hope, that we will die at a ripe old age, after those final years of contented retirement during which we spent a lot of time in contemplative prayer. 

Necessary Things

However, our death could come today, tomorrow, in ten years, 30 years…or in 60 seconds. Think of the great gift of one small minute when an untimely death comes upon us. In that sixty seconds I can quickly bring to mind the ways in which I have offended God, and ask him for forgiveness. I can recite the Act of Contrition—a perfect formula for getting right with God. I can even offer my suffering, both mental and physical, in reparation for my sins or for a loved one whom I will leave behind. 

Sixty seconds could be enough to get me a free pass straight to heaven, without a moment’s lingering in purgatory. Not only should we thank God when others have had those final moments, but we should pray that we, too, have the gift of time to face death willingly, and with true contrition for our sins. And perhaps a little final suffering would come in handy…but only if necessary. 

Dear St. Joseph, Patron of a Happy Death, pray for us

Forever Connected, On Purpose

Back in 2012 I wrote a quick blog post, called Forever Connected, about a concept that I think about quite often. You can read it yourself, but to sum up I told the story of how an “accident” of time and place meant that I was in close proximity to a man, (a husband, father, police officer) at the moment that he died. I did not see him or know it was happening at the time. But the incident affected my life in a small way that day. And I felt that I had been given a responsibility to pray for him and his wife and kids. I have tried to remember that responsibility often, along with the other people whose deaths I recall but are not family members. 

"None of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself."Rom 14:7.

This morning we (Jim, the kids and I) were talking about the Scrutinies, those rites that happen during Lent and are part of the RCIA process*. (Stay with me…this is connected, I promise). And we decided to look up what the “Scrutinies” actually were. So we read aloud from the rite itself. There were intercessory prayers and prayers of exorcism. Through those prayers we learned that the Scrutinies are meant to be moments of cleansing and conversion for those people who are coming into the Church. They are meant to reflect on their sins and weaknesses and any remaining obstacles to following Christ with their whole being. The rest of the parish is also called to reflect in the same way on our own life with Christ. 

Our discussion then turned to the fact that these people really need prayer during this time, and wouldn’t it be nice if we knew who they were so we could pray for them by name. 

The Children of Fatima
Their story is another influence in our reflection, as a family, on the power of prayer and value of simply offering our little, everyday crosses as a sacrifice and a prayer for those who cannot or will not pray for themselves. 

This reminded me of something I recently did on impulse. One day we were at a weekday Mass, probably a Monday, and in the pew was a small program leaflet from a wedding that took place over the weekend. I started reading it, curious if I could tell anything about the couple from the program. I was searching it for signs that they were tuned into their faith and really understanding what they were being called too in this sacrament. But I really couldn’t tell either way. 

It occurred to me that I should say a prayer for them. And I did. 

Then, when Mass was over, I spontaneously folded the little program and stuck it in my Magnificat. For the rest of the week, whenever I opened my Magnificat at Mass I saw their names on the front of their pink and black program: Kimberly and Myles. I continued to offer little prayers for them. When the next month’s Magnificat came, I moved the program into that one too. 

I think perhaps I am called to pray for them…forever. A lifetime commitment to a pair of total strangers. 

"If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.” 1 Cor 12:26-27.

And now to the idea. I have no sense of whether or not this is a common practice in any parish. Maybe it is an old idea. But we thought it was needed, and a 

ministry that a quiet little, uninvolved, not very socially inclined family like our own could participate in easily. 

What if we had a ministry of prayer for some of the people in the midst of life-altering moments such as marriage, conversion to the Catholic faith, and the Baptism of their first child. 

What if parish members were encouraged to adopt a couple who is married in their parish and commit to praying for them for as long as they can, or for a set amount of time, or for the rest of their lives. The commitment could be put in writing, in some sort of notebook. Or not. 

You could even take an extra step and connect each couple to an adoptive family who would host them for dinner several times over their first year, sharing their family’s life and commitment to Christ with this newly launched family. This would be good for both the just-married and for couples who are bringing their first child for baptism, another threshold moment. 

This sort of ministry would, of course, be helpful for new Catholics during the RCIA process as well as during that Neophyte year (the first year after initiation) and beyond. Those folks would benefit from both specific prayer commitments (anonymous or not) and from various connections to families throughout the parish. 

Back in February, I ranted about the problem with our approach to Catechesis and, well, to quote myself, I said: 

Focus on the core, what Blessed John Paul II called “the primordial sacrament”, marriage. …

and..

One way to do this is to take advantage of threshold moments by making personal connections and providing support, social contexts and educational opportunities. 

And, may I add now, prayer! 

Of course, this doesn’t need to be an organized ministry. Anyone can consult the banns of marriage in their parish bulletin (do they do that in all parishes?) and pick a couple to pray for. I also know many parishes post pictures and or names of the adults who are coming into the Church, so you could choose one for whom to pray. 

But a more formal approach might give more parishioners a real, tangible way to participate in parish ministries when life affords little time, energy, or inclination to do so in the usual ways. 

Of course, the real reason to do this is because prayer works and these people need all the prayers they can get. 

There are moments in life in which we are faced with clear choices, moments when we have a chance to make a fresh start on a path that may be the difference between a life of discipleship or a life of luke-warm faith. Three of those moments that are easily identified by a parish are marriage, the baptism of your child (especially the first), and conversion to the Catholic Faith. 

Here is a way to influence those folks in the right direction--and it costs zero money (unless you buy a notebook to write it in), takes up zero facility space (except the space to store the notebook), and anyone can do it (from the youngest to the oldest, the least talented to the most, the extreme introvert to the social animal). 

What do you think? Does your parish do anything like this? Am I just re-inventing the wheel? 

*RCIA stands for Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults and is the way that non-Catholic adults become Catholic. The Scrutinies are prayers and such done at Mass for three Sundays leading up to the Easter Vigil when those folks receive the sacraments and are formally grafted onto the Catholic Family tree. 

Memories of Blessed Pope John Paul II

Way back in 2002 I wrote about Pope John Paul II and his very public aging and suffering. This week as I am reading a great book on the Theology of Body (These Beautiful Bones by Emily Stimpson---review to come soon!) I recalled my thoughts from eleven years ago. I had to dig them up off the old computer and edit a little to take care to take care of some time references, but I left the present tense (I was writing when Blessed John Paul II was alive). 

I share these thoughts with you today on his feast day. 

Blessed John Paul II, pray for us. 

Jim and I meeting (and being blessed by!) Blessed Pope John Paul II. 

                                                          ************************

Pick Up Your Cross….

This past week, as we saw the Holy Father on TV, I was reminded of conversation Jim and I had in Rome. In 2001 we were on pilgrimage in Rome. As we walked through numerous churches and art galleries, not to mention gift shops, Jim pointed out that in most crucifixes Christ’s head hangs down toward his right shoulder. It was never something I noticed before, so I began to look. Sure enough, in every crucifix I saw, Jesus’ head leaned to the right. This was the case in new and old crucifixes as well as other depictions of the crucifixion. I am not sure why artists down through the centuries have done this, but it seems to be consistent.

Now, as I watched Pope John Paul II on TV I began to reflect on his appearance. Most of the world has noticed that he is looking very frail and hunched over, that he walks with difficulty, that he talks with difficulty and in fact has to wipe drool from his mouth as he speaks, and that even his face muscles seem to strain. He is willingly suffering with the dignity of a true child of God. And even in his suffering his schedule doesn’t let up and his mind is always completely present at every event. He is focused on his role as the Vicar of Christ whether it is a typical Wednesday audience or a beatification Mass.

We noticed all of these things that year as we sat in St. Peter’s Square or St. Peter’s Basilica watching him and listening to his words. We also noticed that he leans his head to one side…his right side.

The Pope and The Cross

As Catholics we know that a priest stands “in the person of Christ”, a fact so real that when he says “This is my body…” it is Christ who speaks through the priest. We also know that the successors of St. Peter represent Christ and His authority in the world. This is why we call the pope the Vicar of Christ. We further know that it is the job of every Christian to imitate Christ, in fact to become so closely connected to Him that he is Christ to the world.

The world of the third millenium has been given a special gift, because we have a man who not only stands “in the person of Christ” (since he is a priest), as the Vicar of Christ (since he is pope), and in daily, hourly imitation of Christ (since he is seeking holiness as all Christians should), but he has become for us a living icon of Christ being crucified on the cross.  This is not to say that the Holy Father is near death, at least no more than any one of us who know not the day or hour, but that he is embracing the suffering of age and infirmity for us, just as Christ embraced the Cross for us.

Don’t Dismiss An Old Man

When we look at this elderly man and see how he so openly loves the aged, the disabled, the young, the family, the single, the infant, it is natural for sentimental feelings to be stirred. We think that he is such a precious old man, like a sweet, affectionate grandfather. Yet, he is still the man who defied Hitler in his youth, who hiked in the wilderness with young people – teaching them about Christ, who has mastered many languages and achieved many degrees, who has written countless letters and encyclicals as well as several books, who brought down the Berlin Wall, and who leads the Catholics of the world to know, love and serve God each day. He keeps up with a rigorous schedule that would exhaust most of us. And he speaks and writes every day out of the wisdom of his years, and with the help of the Holy Spirit in an effort to lead the world to Christ.

Perhaps the world’s tendency to dismiss him with sentimental affection is related to our inability to appreciate the wisdom and experience of our own elderly friends and relatives. Our culture certainly does not honor age as cultures of the past have. 

As Catholics especially, we cannot fall into that trap. We cannot dismiss this Holy Father as practically dead or in the nursing home. We must look at him and see Christ, dying on the Cross, and know it is for us that he suffers, and know that in that suffering truth is triumphing over lies, good is winning the fight against evil, and God is ultimately victorious through His servants here on earth.

To dismiss this particular elderly Polish gentleman is a mistake indeed. He may look frail, and he certainly is suffering, yet he continues to teach the world, in every way possible about Christ, His Church, His plan for mankind, and our role in that plan. In fact, he writes and speaks so much, it seems as if he has no concern for whether or not he is being heard. But do not be mistaken. The Holy Father is surely writing for you and I in the hopes that we will read his words, however, he is also writing for our children, and our children’s children. It may take centuries to unpack the teachings of this papacy of 23 plus years, but his words will not, cannot fall on deaf ears.   

In Imitation of Christ

We must also look at this Christ-figure in our midst and learn to embrace our own suffering and pain. After all, we are all called to pick up our own crosses and follow Christ down the well-worn path toward the glories of heaven. Pope John Paul II suffers in a very ordinary way, especially for an 81 year old man. But his suffering is ennobled and elevated by being united to Christ on the cross. In this way, his suffering becomes a powerful force in the transformation of the world of the third millenium. Our suffering can have this same power when we unite it to Christ.

Seeing Christ in the Holy Father should move us to examine our own life. How do we imitate Christ? Do we love Christ enough to work tirelessly in the service of His Church? For some of us this could mean actual service in a parish, but for must of us, being in service of Christ’s Church is something much simpler. It means being living examples to our children. It means seeking holiness each minute of the day in the way we get up in the morning, drive our cars, treat our co-workers, speak of others, plan our day, and train our children.

When we think of the Holy Father we should ask ourselves how we embrace suffering. Our suffering can be as inconsequential as having to wait in line to buy groceries, or getting caught in traffic on the way to work. It could be morning sickness for the pregnant mom, or even stinky diapers. Or how about that co-worker that always wants to stop you in the hall and talk about his life, but never seems interested in yours? These tiny sufferings, when united with Christ’s suffering on the Cross and willingly endured for the sake of others can become powerful forces in the world. Just imagine how powerful our bigger sufferings can be, such as the loss of loved ones, illness, disabilities, even financial difficulties.

So, the next time you see the Holy Father, whether on ABC, CNN or in person, notice that his head tilts toward his right shoulder, like Christ on the crucifix in your entryway. And remember that we are all called to imitate Christ in all ways, especially in His suffering. And perhaps we will have the courage to endure whatever difficulty we encounter, large or small, willingly and with dignity and allow ourselves to join Christ on His cross, as Pope John Paul II does each day.

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Here is another blog post about Blessed John Paul II reposted in 2011 and written in 2001.  

A 9-11 Prayer

Please vist Mary at Counting Graces for Pope Benedict's prayer at Ground Zero. 

Chocolate and Heaven

So...slow readers that we are, we are STILL reading The Last Battle. But we are still loving it! Currently, we are near the end and the characters are all trying to figure out where they are. They saw Narnia die, at least the Narnia that they knew. But this new land looks a lot like Narnia. Here is what Lord Digory says:

When Aslan said you could never go back to Narnia, he meant the Narnia you were thinking of. But that was not the real Narnia. That had a beginning and an end. It was only a shadow or a copy of the real Narnia which has always been here and always will be here: just as our world, England and all, is only a shadow or copy of something in Aslan's real world. 

When we finished the chapter we had a great discussion of this life and the Next Life. We talked about how everything good that is here points us to the good of heaven. 

At this point, the seven year old said. "You know what? Chocolate is a copy of heaven." A girl after my own heart! Is a taste for good chocolate genetic?

I got this image from Googling chocolate. I do not own it but I hope it is made from dark chocolate. 

Sometimes the simplest things are the truest (if one thing can be truer than another, which it can't, really…but you know what I mean). 

Yes, chocolate is a thing that points me to heaven. So is that beautiful flower. So is a beautiful painting. So is a crucifix. So is the face of an innocent child. So is a venti, iced, cinnamon dulce latte. 

Perhaps they aren't equally clear copies of heaven. But, any created good in this life is a taste of the eternal Goods of Heaven. 

That is why we sin when we make a created good our god. That incredible sunset is meant to point you to its Creator. That love you experience from your friends and family is meant to point you to the Lover (God) and the Beloved (God). 

The Catechism of the Catholic Church (second only to Scripture as a self-help/answer-all-the-questions-of-life-book) says this. (the big print is my addition) 

#1060 At the end of time, the Kingdom of God will come in its fullness. Then the just will reign with Christ for ever, glorified in body and soul, and the material universe itself will be transformed. God will then be "all in all" (1 Cor 15:28), in eternal life.

If our love for this world is properly ordered it will lead us straight to the Triune God who awaits us in the Next World. 

So, the next time you taste some great chocolate, praise God and long for the Chocolate of Heaven. And if you have to skip that great chocolate, you can offer it up and remind yourself that you are building a store of REALLY Real Chocolate in Heaven! 

Here Lies Munch

Here Lies Munch.

A cricket. 

(we think)

Best friend of A. 

(at least for an hour or two before he perished)

Though small of stature,

(I could barely identify this bug insect on the ground though I crouched down and looked closely)

he (she?) merited a large grave. 

Family 

(not sure if there are any, do crickets have families?) 

and friends 

(the best friend, namely A) 

are handling this trauma drama quite well. 

Forever Connected (A Ten-Minute Tuesday Post)

A in Ardmore, Ireland, home of St. Declan. We prayed for these folk as we passed by them.

Last week we were on our way to an early appointment when traffic began to get very slow. Even in the carpool lane. I was annoyed. I was sure that there were whole bunches of carpool-lane-jumpers jamming up my lane. As I sat there fuming it occurred to me it could be an accident. Better pray. “Kids, say a prayer there may be an accident ahead”. I am not sure they heard me. 

Then I noticed the other side of the freeway was empty. Totally and completely empty. Now I was sure this was a very bad accident, or something worse, and it just happened. My mind went back to the clock, my appointment, would we make it? I fretted and prayed (both for our schedule to not be ruffled and for whomever was ahead and might need prayer.) An ambulance went by on our side. I could see some flashing lights ahead. 

As we crawled along I began to try and get over towards my exit. One mile to go. How long would this take me? Still no traffic in the opposite direction. Then things began to free up a little and I saw it on the other side. Lots of police cars. Yellow police tape. 

This didn’t look like an accident, this was something different. A police action of some kind. Too late to looky-loo, off my exit and only five minutes late for my appointment. 

A half hour later the traffic on the streets warned me not to try and get home right now. There aren’t many non-freeway choices in this area and they are all one lane each way. So, we trashed our schedule for the day and went to hang out at a nearby Barnes and Noble. With snack in hand I checked the iPad for news of the accident. 

That was when I learned that a police officer had been shot. He and the man who shot him were both in critical condition and the freeway was closed in both directions, indefinitely. We settled into wasting time at B&N, walking around town, and having lunch out. A major inconvenience turned into a nice day. 

Finally, we took the LONG way home and arrived about 4 hours after we originally had planned to get home. Inconvenience over....for us. Many were still stuck in traffic. 

And, as we learned later that night, one wife and her four children were mourning the death of their policeman husband and father. 

As I struggled with being late and annoying traffic, a man was meeting his maker. 

A week later we were in that town again and entering the freeway near the spot where he was shot. A news report at that moment told us of a memorial for the police officer that morning in a nearby town. Seconds later we passed the road-side display of flags, flowers and crosses in his honor. As we sped by the spot I began to tear up. I felt connected to this man and his family. I was there. I wasn’t aware at the time of what was going on, but I was on that freeway, caught in the consequences of the act that led to his death. Forever connected. 

Was it by design? Was I there to offer prayers at the moment of his death? It reminded me of 9/11. That day, eleven years ago, I was walking into early Mass, pregnant with my first born, having just heard that the second plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. It occurred to me that at that very moment people were dying. Souls were facing the ultimate interview. And I prayed for them, in front of the God that they would face. 

Sometimes it feels as if we are anonymous in this world, except to the few family and friends with whom we have contact. But in eternity we are all connected. We all depend upon each other. Kenyon Youngstrom. The Victims of 9/11. A college friend, John Leal, who died just after college. Mrs Slingsby, a classmate’s mother in elementary school These are some of the names that come to mind when we are asked at Mass to pray for those that have died. Souls forever connected to me via life’s experiences...little and big. 

May these souls, and the souls of all the faithful departed rest in peace. May their friends and family find peace and healing in our Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Join Ten Minute Tuesday at Testosterhome. 

The Kids Are Alright?

As we sat down on Saturday morning to watch the Opening Ceremonies of the 2012 Olympics in London, we were anxious to see the festivities in our temporary homeland. The landscape in the center of the arena was just what we hoped to see: a celebration of all that we loved about England. Kenneth Branaugh was in full costume ready to recite (which he did--from the Tempest). It was beautiful. There were children’s choirs from each of the “Isles” as well as costumed folks enjoying themselves across the countryside. 

Then, things began to change. Men and women rose from the green hills to transform the countryside into a dark industrial landscape. It was eerily Tolkienesque, but instead of monster-like creatures tearing up nature, you saw people working and sweating, dirty faces and clothes. The image painted was Industry with it’s boot on the neck of the people. 

The message portrayed was that factories controlled the means of production. But, in reality individuals controlled the means of production. In fact, the rise of industry marked the transformation of the economy, fueled by free market capitalism and providing  a rich soil for the growth of entrepreneurship. By the end of the Industrial Revolution, quality of life made a huge jump for most people. 

The rewriting of history didn’t stop there, though.   

First, the show skipped over World War II completely. Never mind Winston Churchill's words:  'This was their finest hour.’ Nope. Sorry Mr. Churchill. Apparently it wasn’t your finest hour. That was yet to come.

The scene then turns to a celebration of what 21st Century Britain apparently sees as their true crowning achievement: the National Healthcare System (NHS). A perfect example of government owning the means of production.

We saw nurses and doctors wheeling in old fashioned hospital beds (which, by the way, looked just like the ones we encountered when we lived there 6 years ago---minus the lights and the trampolines). On each bed was a child in pajamas. As the lights dimmed each child had a “nurse” to read to him, with JKRowling reading a few lines from JM Barrie’s Peter Pan (whose main character is an unintentional foreshadowing of things to come for Great Britain--the boy (the country) who didn’t want to grow up.) The story ends and the children reluctantly go to sleep, the nurses watching over. 

The image: the children of the nation left to the care of the government nurses.

Then comes the nightmare, or more exactly the beginning of the nightmare. Storybook villains seem to rise out of the beds, accompanied by some really freaky creatures that look like beefed up versions of the Flying Monkees from the Wizard of Oz. Just as the nightmare becomes overwhelming, the most famous Nanny of all time floats in on her umbrella. Mary Poppins to the rescue. 

Ahhh...Mary Poppins! Wise, sweet, fun, Mary Poppins. Remember that movie? We recently watched it with the kids and I was struck by something that I found quite sad. The parents. They were mostly absent from the day to day lives of the their children. True, Mary Poppins brings them back in and they end up flying kites with their kids....but  who do we remember? Who do the children in this celebration of Great Britain look to in the midst of their nightmare? The Nanny.  Is it Mary Poppins? Or is it really the government, symbolized by the all encompassing NHS, that takes over the parenting of a nation of children?

In fact, this scene ends with a giant baby in a giant bed surrounded by the NHS nurses and doctors. A symbol of a nation cared for by Nanny Government.

But, keep watching. Because, as I said, the nightmare is not over. The next scene shows us the age of mobile phones, texting, the internet and a generation of young people with a life driven by finding the next party. The commentators repeatedly mention the partying, and the unhappy parents who find the kids flash mobbing their homes. Youth are pitted against an adult world that tries in vain to get them to take life seriously. The nightmare. 

But, in Great Britain at least, it is a reality. 

Youth unemployment is up to 21% since 2007. What are those young people doing? How do they live? For many of them, they have been under the care of THE NANNY from age three. If they go on to university they still have no financial obligation until they are making at least 21,000 pounds a year, and then the price per month is 7.50. 

So, for you folks in Rio Linda, if you are one of the 21% that are unemployed or are in the half of the population that makes less than 30,000 a year (median gross income in the UK in 2011 was under 30K) then you have no school debt, no responsibility for those years. University was free for you...as long as you aren’t too successful. 

What then? Life is a party. Gone is the hardworking world of young adults who built the London of the modern era. 

When we lived in London, and later in Scotland, we were struck by the party culture that seemed commonplace among the 40 and under set. You sit in an NHS waiting room surrounded by posters exhorting you to “stop drinking too much,” “check your ‘partner’ for STD’s,” and  “beware if you dare to cheat on your benefits--we will catch you.” If the warnings are any evidence of the perceived problems of the adult population, there are far too many people with nothing better to do than binge drink, sleep around and cheat on their Income Support benefits. 

THE NANNY is still in charge, but the kids aren’t behaving. 

The Opening Ceremonies went on to get darker and more confusing, we ended up fast-forwarding through most of it (the kids were watching, after all), but the lasting image was of a country who has completely embraced their dependence on a nanny government. 

The NOW that the UK celebrated that night is our FUTURE if we don’t stop the drift towards THE NANNY: Obamacare, rising unemployment, unprecedented numbers on welfare....need I say more?