Consideration I - PORTRAIT OF A MAN WHO HAS RECENTLY PASSED TO THE OTHER LIFE

"Pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris" (Gen. 3:19).

Point I

Consider that you are dust, and to dust you shall return. A day must come when you will die and find yourself rotting in a grave, where you shall be covered with worms. "Operimentum tuum erunt vermes" (Is. 14:11). The same fate must befall all — nobles and commoners, princes and subjects. Once the soul has departed from the body with that last gasp, the soul will go to its eternity, and the body must be reduced to dust. "Auferes spiritum eorum, et in pulverem revertentur" (Ps. 103:29).

Imagine that you see a person from whom the soul has just departed. Behold in that corpse, still lying on the bed: the head fallen upon the chest, the hair disheveled and still damp with the sweat of death, the eyes sunken, the cheeks gaunt, the face the color of ashes, the tongue and lips the color of iron, the body cold and heavy. Whoever sees it grows pale and trembles. How many, at the sight of a dead relative or friend, have changed their lives and left the world!

Greater horror does the corpse then give when it begins to decay. Scarcely twenty-four hours will have passed since that young man died, and the stench makes itself felt. The windows must be opened and much incense burned; indeed, care must be taken that it be sent quickly to the church and put underground, lest it infect the whole house. And the fact that the body was that of a nobleman or a rich man will serve only to send forth a more intolerable stench. "Gravius foetent divitum corpora" — "The bodies of the rich give off a fouler odor," says one author.

Behold where that proud man, that impure man, has arrived! Once welcomed and sought after in gatherings, now become the horror and abomination of all who see him. And so the relatives hasten to have him thrown out of the house, and porters are paid so that, shut up in a coffin, they may carry him off and cast him into a grave. Before, the fame of his wit, his elegance, his fine manners, and his clever sayings flew about; but shortly after his death, the memory of him is lost. "Periit memoria eorum cum sonitu" (Ps. 9:7).

Upon hearing the news of his death, one says: He was making a good name for himself. Another says: He left his house well provided for. Others grieve, because the deceased brought them some advantage; others rejoice, because his death benefits them. For the rest, within a short time no one will speak of him any more. And from the very beginning, the closest relatives do not wish to hear him mentioned, lest their grief be renewed. In condolence visits, other things are discussed; and if anyone ventures to speak of the deceased, the relative says: For pity's sake, do not mention him to me again.

Consider that just as you have done at the death of your friends and kinsmen, so others will do at yours. The living come to make their appearance on the stage and to take possession of the goods and places of the dead; and of the dead, little or no account is made any longer. The relatives will at first remain afflicted for some days, but soon they will console themselves with that portion of property that has fallen to them; so that before long they will rather rejoice at your death; and in that very room where you will have breathed out your soul and been judged by Jesus Christ, there will be dancing, eating, playing, and laughing as before; and your soul — where will it then be?

Affections and Prayers

O my Jesus, my Redeemer, I thank You that You did not let me die when I was in Your disgrace. For how many years have I deserved to be in hell! If I had died on that day, on that night, what would have become of me for all eternity? Lord, I thank You for it. I accept my death in satisfaction for my sins; and I accept it in whatever manner it pleases You to send it to me; but since You have waited for me until now, wait a little longer. "Dimitte me, ut plangam paululum dolorem meum" (Job 10:20). Give me time to weep over the offenses I have committed against You, before You must judge me.

I will no longer resist Your calls. Who knows whether these words I have read are the last call for me! I confess that I do not deserve pity: You have pardoned me so many times, and I, ungrateful wretch, have returned to offend You. "Cor contritum, et humiliatum Deus non despicies" (Ps. 50). Lord, since You cannot despise a heart that humbles itself and repents, behold the traitor who, repentant, has recourse to You. "Ne proiicias me a facie tua." For pity's sake, do not cast me away. You have said: "Eum, qui venit ad me, non eiiciam foras" (John 6:37). It is true that I have outraged You more than others, because more than others I have been favored by You with lights and graces; but the blood You have shed for me gives me courage and offers me pardon, if I repent. Yes, my supreme Good, I repent with all my soul for having despised You. Pardon me, and give me the grace to love You henceforth. Enough of offending You. The life that remains to me — no, my Jesus, I will no longer spend it offending You; I will spend it only in ever weeping over the displeasures I have caused You, and in loving You with all my heart, O God worthy of infinite love.

O Mary, my hope, pray to Jesus for me.

Point II

But to see better what you are, my Christian, St. John Chrysostom says: "Perge ad sepulcrum, contemplare pulverem, cineres, vermes, et suspira." Look at how that corpse first turns yellow and then black. Then a white and disgusting fuzz appears all over the body. Next there oozes forth a viscous and foul-smelling corruption that drips to the ground. In that putrid matter there is then generated a great multitude of worms that feed on the very flesh. The rats come to feast on that body, some moving about on the outside, others entering through the mouth and into the entrails. The cheeks, lips, and hair fall to pieces; the ribs are the first to be stripped of flesh, then the arms and legs. The worms, after having consumed all the flesh, consume themselves; and finally of that body nothing remains but a fetid skeleton, which in time comes apart, the bones separating, and the head falling from the trunk. "Redacta quasi in favillam aestivae areae, quae rapta sunt vento" (Dan. 2:35). Behold what man is — a little dust that a wind carries across a threshing floor.

Behold that gentleman who was called the life of the party, the soul of the gathering — where is he? Enter his room — he is no longer there. If you look for his bed, it has been given to others; if his garments, his weapons — others have already taken and divided them. If you wish to see him, look into that grave, where he has been reduced to filth and bare bones. O God, that body nourished with so many delicacies, clothed with such pomp, attended by so many servants — has it come to this? O saints, you understood it well, that for the love of that God whom alone you loved on this earth, you knew how to mortify your bodies, and now your bones are held and esteemed as sacred relics among gold, and your beautiful souls enjoy God, awaiting the final day when your bodies too shall come to be companions in glory, as they were companions of the cross in this life. This is true love for the body: to load it here with sufferings, so that it may be happy for eternity; and to deny it those pleasures that would make it unhappy forever.

Affections and Prayers

So then, my God, this is what my body too must be reduced to — the body for which I have so greatly offended You! — worms and corruption. But this does not grieve me, O Lord; indeed, I am pleased that this flesh of mine, which has made me lose You, the supreme Good, should so putrefy and be consumed. What grieves me is that in order to take those miserable pleasures, I have given You so many displeasures. But I will not lose confidence in Your mercy. You have waited for me in order to pardon me. "Exspectat Deus, ut misereatur vestri" (Is. 30:18). And You wish to pardon me, if I repent. Yes, I repent with all my heart, O infinite Goodness, for having despised You. I will say with St. Catherine of Genoa: "My Jesus, no more sins, no more sins." No, I will no longer abuse Your patience. Nor will I wait, O my crucified Love, to embrace You when You are placed in my arms by the confessor at the point of death; from now on I embrace You, from now on I commend my soul to You: "In manus tuas, Domine, commendo spiritum meum." My soul has been in the world for so many years, and has not loved You; give me light and strength that I may love You in this life that remains to me. I will not wait until the hour of death to love You; from now on I love You, I embrace You and hold You close, and I promise never to leave You again.

O Most Holy Virgin, bind me to Jesus Christ, and obtain for me that I may never lose Him again.

Point III

My brother, in this portrait of death behold yourself, and what you are to become. "Memento, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris." Think that in a few years, and perhaps in months or days, you will become putrefaction and worms. Job made himself a saint with this thought: "Putredini dixi, pater meus es tu, mater mea et soror mea vermibus" (Job 17:14).

Everything must come to an end; and if your soul is lost at death, everything will be lost for you. "Consider yourself already dead," says St. Lawrence Justinian, "since you know you must of necessity die" (De Ligno vitae, ch. 4). If you were already dead, what would you not wish to have done for God? Now that you are alive, think that one day you must find yourself dead. St. Bonaventure says that the helmsman, to steer the ship well, stations himself at its stern; so man, to lead a good life, should always imagine himself as being at the point of death. From there, says St. Bernard: "Vide prima et erubesce" — look at the sins of your youth and blush for shame; "Vide media, et ingemisce" — look at the sins of your manhood and weep; "Vide novissima, et contremisce" — look at the latest present disorders of your life, and tremble, and quickly make amends.

St. Camillus de Lellis, when he looked into the graves of the dead, would say to himself: If these could return to life, what would they not do for eternal life? And I, who have the time, what am I doing for my soul? But the Saint said this out of humility. But you, my brother, can perhaps with good reason fear that you are the fig tree without fruit, of which the Lord said: "Ecce anni tres sunt, ex quo venio quaerens fructum in ficulnea hac, et non invenio" (Luke 13:7). You have been in the world for more than three years — what fruit have you borne? See, says St. Bernard, the Lord does not seek only flowers but also wants fruits; that is, He does not want only good desires and resolutions, but also holy works. Know then how to make good use of this time that God gives you through His mercy; do not wait to desire time to do good when there will be no more time, and it will be said to you: "Tempus non erit amplius: Proficiscere" — quickly, now it is time to depart from this world; quickly, what is done is done.

Affections and Prayers

Here I am, my God: I am that tree which for so many years deserved to hear: "Succide ergo illam, ut quid etiam terram occupat?" Yes, because for so many years that I have been in the world, I have given You no other fruit than thorns and brambles of sin. But Lord, You do not wish me to despair.

You have said to all: "Quaerite, et invenietis." I seek You, my God, and I desire Your grace. For all the offenses I have committed against You, I am sorry with all my heart; I could wish to die of sorrow. In the past I have fled from You, but now I esteem Your friendship more than the possession of all the kingdoms of the earth. I will resist Your calls no longer. You want me entirely for Yourself — I give myself entirely to You, without reserve. You on the cross gave Yourself wholly to me; I give myself wholly to You.

You have said: "Si quid petieritis me in nomine meo, hoc faciam" (John 14:14). My Jesus, trusting in this great promise, in Your name and through Your merits, I ask You for Your grace, Your love. Let grace abound, and let Your holy love abound in my soul, where sin has abounded. I thank You for giving me the spirit to make this prayer to You; since You inspire it in me, it is a sign that You wish to hear me. Hear me, my Jesus; give me a great love for You; give me a great desire to please You, and then the strength to carry it out.

O my great Advocate Mary, hear me too; pray to Jesus for me.