Earlier this week, I overheard a someone quip during a television interview, “We’re too busy living our lives to think about our lives.”
What that person forgot was an important fact: “That is, until reality slaps us upside the head and we’re forced to think about our lives.”
In the aftermath of the Bubonic (or “Black”) Plague (which killed an estimated 50 million people during the mid-14th century, Catholics were jolted from the sleepiness of the“daily routine” of their lives. Without the kinds of distractions that surround us today, there wasn’t much to distract those folks who were surviving from the Plague’s onslaught and devastation from feeling this was the “end time.” They had been caught by surprise, like a trap, as we heard in today’s gospel. The day of reckoning had come; everyone living on the face of the Earth was under assault; and, none of them knew who would survive until tomorrow, forget next week, month, or year.
Out of that frightening experience, those Catholics came believe it important never to forget to think about their lives and, in particular, what eventually came to be called the “final four things”: death; judgment, Heaven; and, Hell. This act of “Never Forget” required completely reorienting their thought process, never taking tomorrow for granted but living today in light of the possibility that tomorrow may never come.
Over time, a uniquely Catholic form of daily prayer developed, called the “memento mori”—“memento” like a “souvenir” and “mori” like “mortality”…“memento mori.” That prayer denoted taking a moment each day to contemplate the idea “I will die.” The goal was to fulfill what Jesus told his disciples in today’s gospel:
Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man.
While some historians, theologians, and psychologists have rightly argued this prayer ritual grew out of an obsession with and dread fear of death, the practice itself is spiritually, morally, and psychologically healthy: To stop all of the “busy-ness” and merry-go-round of the routine of daily life for a moment and reflect upon our lives, especially the fact “I will die.” It’s a healthy practice because it reveals a truth buried deep in every person’s heart—the desire to be immortal—a truth possessing the power to distract us from growing in holiness of life.
Think about that desire: It’s irrational because despite however much we may want to be immortal, it’s absolutely impossible for any of us to achieve. Yes, it can be argued, some human beings have achieved momentary immortality, living on for a period of time beyond their mortality. But the simple fact is that every human being will end up in the dustbin of history just like all who have preceded them. Why? Because we are mortal and when the last human being dies, who’ll remember anything about anything mortal?
Don’t believe me?
Try this mental exercise I’ve used with my students in the past: Consider your paternal and maternal great-great-great grandmothers who made in possible for you to be alive today. They lived four generations ago, that’s about 100-120 years ago. Do you remember their first names? Perhaps having surveyed a family genealogical tree, some of us may remember their names. I know I don’t. Another simple fact is that both you and I—similar to nearly 99.99999% of the human beings God has created since Adam and Eve—will end up in the dustbin of history, gone and forgotten…and probably me sooner than you since I have no progeny.
“Out of sight,” it’s said, “out of mind.”
So much for the desire to achieve immortality!
Although I recall being taught as an elementary school student the phrase “the final four things” and its contents—death, judgment, Heaven, and Hell—I haven’t heard much said about the topic since then…that’s 50 years. Have you? Perhaps that’s because we’ve become very comfortable, surrounded as we are by so many distractions that “we’re so busy living life, we don’t think about life.” Besides, we may wonder, “Who wants to focus upon those morose ‘final four things’ when there’s so many other, far more interesting things to think about, experience, and do?”
Taking a moment each day to contemplate the reality of the fact that “I will die” is the first part of a “memento mori.”
Remaining focused upon that fact, however, is when the practice can become, as it has been argued, spiritually, morally, and psychologically unhealthy.
That’s why the second part of a “memento mori” is to contemplate what the fact “I will die” means about how I will live today because our goal, as Catholics, isn’t to be immortal—the fact is that time eventually runs out—but to be eternal—God created us to exist without beginning or end.
That’s how the desire to be immortal distracts us from what God’s revealed truth teaches us, especially as we enter into the Season of Advent and begin our proximate preparations for Christmas: God became human—what exists in eternity entered into temporality—in order that humans may become like God—that what’s temporal may become eternal. Our Catholic faith teaches that God has created you and me not to be immortal by living beyond death in the memories of mere mortals until they eventually die out. No, God has created us to leave everything temporal behind in death and to rise to eternal life united to God Heaven.
Completing a two-stage daily “memento mori” makes it possible for us to have what the theologian Jacques Maritain called a “metaphysical experience of God.” This uniquely Catholic practice keeps us focused not upon death but upon eternity. In this way, the most intimidating enemy and impossible adversary—death which will with absolute certainty end each of our lives on Earth—won’t destroy our eternal life in Heaven.
Our recent experience with COVID-19 and its variants raises for our considerations the wisdom of our mid-14th century co-religionists. For example, did you know that more people have died in the United States from COVID-19 in 2021 (350k) than in 2020 (220k)? Did you also know that in late September 2021, the number of deaths attributed to COVID-19 and its variants exceeded 2k/day—a 200% increase over September 2020? Similar to Catholics in the days, months, and years following the Bubonic Plague, COVID-19 and its variants should compel us to recall the fact of our mortality. And that’s to say nothing about the new “omicron” variant which, if the media’s 24/7 prognostications have what seems to be their desired effect, will scare the bejeezus out of us to look for saviors everywhere but in God’s only begotten Son.
Knowing that the President and medical establishment of the United States are completely incapable of saving us from the pandemic, that fact alone raises a “memento mori”: No mere mortal can save any of us from our morality…not even Jesus!
Did you ever contemplate that fact? God didn’t become incarnate in His only begotten Son to save us from death but to open the door anew to the eternal life for which God created us and sent us to Earth. Like Jesus, we have been made incarnate so that we might live our lives in ways that demonstrate to others how they may become like God.
Only a “memento mori” has the power to break through superficiality and sentimentality associated with the Incarnation of God’s only begotten Son and evidencing itself in “Christmas crib Catholics” and—in a “metaphysical experience of God”—enter into its profound mystery: Jesus was born and died on the Cross.
The fact that “I will die” reminds each of us how we must live each day no longer as what I’ll be calling during the New Year of Grace 2022 “sleepy Catholics.” These folks enjoy all the comfortable surroundings that end up distracting them from contemplating the fact “I will die.” “Sleepy” Catholics also hedge their bets that they can put off until tomorrow what they should do today. As a result, “sleepy” Catholics wittingly push God to the peripheries of each day, in the vain hope that, at the last minute of their lives, they will be able to get everything squared away with God.
Where’s the evidence?
Just look back over the past Year of Grace 2021. On the spiritual Richter scale, prayer, scripture, faith formation, and the regular practice of the sacraments for many of us merited barely a blip, revealing “sleepy” Catholics who profess to love God and neighbor as we love ourselves. But, the evidence suggests that we’re more like a person who says, “Yes, I’m married...but don’t love my spouse.”
The fact is that “I will die” has the power to strengthen the desire to live each day as what I’ll be calling during the New Year of Grace 2022 “WOKE” Catholics. These folks aren’t morose in their outlook upon life but strive each day to bring God into the center of their lives. While they enjoy their comfortable surroundings, “WOKE” Catholics try not to allow those to distract them from making a daily “memento mori” so they can keep themselves focused upon what has eternal consequences. Then, “WOKE” Catholics don’t put off until tomorrow what they know they must do today, just as Jesus did, by inviting God into the center of each day and bringing God into the others’ lives.
Surveying this past Year of Grace 2021, we know we weren’t perfect in translating our intentions into concrete actions. But, to the degree we tried to live better as “crucifix Catholics,” we attempted to bring prayer, scripture, faith formation, and the regular practice of the sacraments into our daily lives. While we also weren’t perfect in translating our love of God into love of neighbor, we didn’t always put off until tomorrow what we could have done each day.
Yes, the truth is: We were imperfect in translating our intentions into concrete actions, putting off to tomorrow what we could have done each day.
That represents our “memento mori” for this first Sunday of the New Year of Grace 2022, contemplating the fact “I will die.” This “memento mori” challenges us each morning this week to recall Jeremiah’s prophecy:
The days are coming, says the LORD,when I will fulfill the promise I made….
Then, contemplating the day lying ahead, don’t forget the second part. Ask: If I should succumb to my mortality today, what must I have done today to become eternal so that, like Jesus, I also will rise from the dead through the power of God’s love?
This is how “WOKE” Catholics begin each day. They don’t neglect or obsess about death but, realizing the truth of their mortality, “WOKE” Catholics are vigilant to live in the end time because their goal is to be eternal—united with God in Heaven—not immortal—buried and left behind as dust in the Earth, as “sleepy” Catholics will discover, much to their eternal chagrin.
This week, let us not be so busy living our lives that we don’t think about them because reality is going to slap each of us upside the head and we’ll be forced to think about everything we put off until tomorrow that we could have done today.
Now’s the time to be “WOKE” Catholics!
As Jesus said to his disciples:
Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise like a trap. For that day will assault everyone who lives on the face of the earth. Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man.
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