Consideration IV - THE CERTAINTY OF DEATH

"Statutum est hominibus semel mori" (Heb. 9:27).

Point I

The sentence of death is written for all men: you are a man, you must die. St. Augustine says: "Cetera nostra bona et mala incerta sunt, sola mors certa est." It is uncertain whether the child who is born will be poor or rich, whether he will have good or bad health, whether he will die young or old: everything is uncertain, but it is certain that he must die. Every noble, every sovereign must be cut down by death. And when death arrives, no force can resist it: one can resist fire, water, and the sword; one can resist the power of princes; but death cannot be resisted. "Resistitur ignibus, undis, ferro: resistitur regibus; venit mors, quis ei resistit?" (St. Augustine, In Ps. 12). A certain King of France, arriving at the end of his life, said: "Behold, with all my power I cannot obtain that death should wait for me one hour longer." When the term of life has come, not even for a moment is it delayed. "Constituisti terminos eius, qui praeteriri non poterunt" (Job 14:5).

Though you may have to live, my reader, all the years you hope for, a day must come, and of that day an hour, that will be the last for you. For me who now write, for you who read this little book, the day and the moment are already decreed in which I shall write no more and you shall read no more. "Quis est homo, qui vivit et non videbit mortem?" (Ps. 88:49). The sentence has been passed: there has never been a man so foolish as to flatter himself that he would not have to die. What happened to your ancestors must happen to you as well. Of all those who at the beginning of the last century were alive in your city, behold, not one remains. Even the princes, the monarchs of the earth have changed country; of them nothing remains here but a marble mausoleum with a fine inscription, which today serves to teach us that of the great ones of the world nothing is left but a little dust enclosed in stone. St. Bernard asks: "Dic mihi, ubi sunt amatores mundi?" And answers: "Nihil ex eis remansit, nisi cineres et vermes."

Therefore we must procure for ourselves not the fortune that ends, but that which will be eternal, since our souls are eternal. What good would it be to be happy (if indeed true happiness can exist in a soul without God), if you must then be unhappy for all eternity? You have built that house with such satisfaction, but consider that soon you must leave it and go to rot in a pit. You have obtained that dignity, which makes you superior to others; but death will come, which will make you like the vilest peasants of the earth.

Affections and Prayers

Ah, poor me, who for so many years have thought of nothing but offending You, O God of my soul! Behold, those years have already passed; death is perhaps already near me, and what do I find but pain and remorse of conscience? Oh, if only I had always served You, my Lord! What a fool I have been! I have been on this earth already for so many years, and instead of gaining merits for the next life, I have loaded myself with debts to divine justice.

My dear Redeemer, give me light and strength to settle my accounts now. Death is perhaps not far from me. I wish to prepare myself for that great decisive moment of my eternal happiness or unhappiness. I thank You for having waited for me until now. And since You give me time to remedy the evil I have done, here I am, my God — tell me what I must do for You. You wish me to grieve for the offenses I have committed against You; I do grieve, I am sorry with all my soul. You wish me to spend these years or days that remain to me in loving You; yes, I wish to do so. O God, in the past I have more than once resolved to do so, but my promises have then become betrayals! No, my Jesus, I will no longer be ungrateful for the many graces You have given me. If even now I do not change my life, how can I hope for pardon and paradise at death? Behold, I now firmly resolve to begin truly serving You. But do You give me strength; do not abandon me. But You did not abandon me when I was offending You; therefore I hope all the more for Your help now that I propose to leave everything to please You.

Accept me then to love You, O God worthy of infinite love. Accept the traitor who now, repentant, embraces Your feet, and loves You, and begs Your mercy. I love You, O my Jesus, I love You with all my heart, I love You more than myself. Here I am, I am Yours. Dispose of me and of all that is mine as You please; give me perseverance in obeying You, give me Your love, and then do with me what You will.

Mary, Mother, hope, and refuge mine, to you I commend myself, to you I entrust my soul; pray to Jesus for me.

Point II

"Statutum est." It is certain, then, that we are all condemned to death. We are all born, says St. Cyprian, with the noose around our necks; and every step we take brings us closer to death. My brother, just as one day you were written in the book of baptism, so one day you will have to be written in the book of the dead. Just as you now name your ancestors — the happy memory of my father, my uncle, my brother — so posterity will have to speak of you. Just as you have many times heard the death knell ring for others, so others will have to hear it ring for you.

But what would you say if you saw a man condemned to death going to the scaffold joking, laughing, looking around, and thinking of comedies, banquets, and amusements? And you are now walking toward death — and what are you thinking about? Look there in that grave at those friends and relatives of yours for whom justice has already been executed. What terror it gives the condemned to see on the gallows their companions already hung and dead! Look then at those corpses, each of which says to you: "Mihi heri, et tibi hodie" (Sirach 38:23). The same is said to you by the portraits of your deceased relatives, their memorandum books, the houses, the beds, the garments they left behind.

What greater folly, then, than to know that one must die, and that after death there awaits either an eternity of joys or an eternity of pains; to think that on that moment depends being either eternally happy or eternally unhappy — and then not to think of settling one's accounts and taking every means to make a good death? We feel compassion for those who die suddenly and are not found prepared for death; and why then do we not take care to be prepared ourselves, since the same thing can happen to us? But sooner or later, with warning or without, whether we think of it or not, we must die; and at every hour, at every moment, we draw nearer to our gallows, which will be precisely that last illness that must drive us from the world.

In every century the houses, the squares, and the cities are filled with new people, and the former ones are carried off to be shut up in tombs. Just as for them the days of life are ended, so the time will come when neither I, nor you, nor any of those now living, will live any longer on this earth. "Dies formabuntur, et nemo in eis" (Ps. 138:16). We shall then all be in eternity, which will be for us either an eternal day of delights or an eternal night of torments. There is no middle way; it is certain, it is a matter of faith, that one or the other lot must fall to us.

Affections and Prayers

My beloved Redeemer, I would not dare appear before You if I did not behold You nailed to this cross, torn, mocked, and dead for me. Great has been my ingratitude, but greater is Your mercy. Great have been my sins, but greater are Your merits. Your wounds, Your blood, Your death are my hope. I deserved hell from the moment of my first sin; afterward I returned so many times to offend You, and You have not only preserved my life, but with such tenderness and love have called me to pardon and offered me peace. How can I now fear that You will cast me from You — now that I love You and desire nothing but Your grace?

Yes, I love You with all my heart, O my dear Lord; and I desire nothing other than to love You. I love You, and I repent of having despised You, not so much for the hell I have deserved, as for having offended You, my God, who have loved me so much. Come now, my Jesus, open to me the bosom of Your goodness; add mercy upon mercy. Grant that I may no longer be ungrateful to You; and change my heart entirely. Grant that my heart, which for a time held Your love as nothing and exchanged it for the wretched pleasures of this earth, may now be entirely Yours, and burn with continual flames for You.

I hope to come to paradise to love You forever; there I cannot be given a place among the innocent — my place will be among the penitent — but among these I wish to love You more than the innocent. For the glory of Your mercy, let paradise see burning with a great love a sinner who has so greatly offended You. I resolve from this day forward to be entirely Yours, and to think of nothing else but loving You. Assist me with Your light and with Your grace, which may give me strength to carry out this desire of mine, which You Yourself give me through Your goodness.

O Mary, you are the Mother of perseverance; obtain for me fidelity to this promise of mine.

Point III

Death is certain. But, O God, Christians already know this, believe it, and see it; and how is it then that so many live so forgetful of death, as if they were never to die? If there were after this life neither hell nor paradise, could they think of it less than they now do? And that is why they lead the wicked life they lead.

My brother, if you wish to live well, strive to live in these days that remain to you with death before your eyes. "O mors, bonum est iudicium tuum" (Sirach 41:3). Oh, how well does he judge things and direct his actions, who judges and directs them in the sight of death! The memory of death destroys our attachment to all the things of this earth. "Let the end of life be considered, and there will be nothing in this world to love," says St. Lawrence Justinian (De Ligno vitae, ch. 4). "Omne quod in mundo est, concupiscentia carnis est, concupiscentia oculorum, et superbia vitae" (1 John 2:16). All the goods of the world are reduced to sensual pleasures, possessions, and honors; but he who thinks that soon he must be reduced to ashes and placed underground as food for worms rightly despises them all.

And indeed, in the sight of death the Saints despised all the goods of this earth. For this reason St. Charles Borromeo kept a skull upon his desk to gaze upon it continually. Cardinal Baronius had written on his ring: "Memento mori." The Venerable Father Juvenal Ancina, Bishop of Saluzzo, had written upon another skull the motto: "As you are, so once was I; and as I am, so shall you be." Another holy hermit, asked at the point of death why he was so cheerful, answered: I have often kept death before my eyes, and therefore now that it has come, I see nothing new.

What folly it would be for a traveler, if while journeying he thought of making himself great in the country through which he passes, and did not care about going on to live miserably in the one where he must remain for the rest of his life! And is he not foolish who thinks of making himself happy in this world, where he must stay but a few days, and risks making himself unhappy in the next, where he must live forever? He who holds something borrowed cares little for it, thinking that soon he must return it: the goods of this earth are all lent to us; it is foolishness to set our affection on them, since we must soon leave them. Death must strip us of everything. All the acquisitions and fortunes of this world end in a last gasp, a funeral, and a descent into a pit. The house you have built you must soon cede to others; the tomb will be the dwelling of your body until the day of judgment, and from there it must pass to paradise or to hell, where your soul will have already gone.

Affections and Prayers

So then, at death everything will be finished for me? Nothing shall I then find, O my God, but the little I have done for love of You. And what am I waiting for? Am I waiting for death to come and find me as wretched and stained with sin as I am at present? If I had to die now, I would die very uneasy and far too discontented with the life I have led. No, my Jesus, I do not wish to die so discontented. I thank You for giving me time to weep over my sins and to love You. I wish to begin from this very moment.

I repent above every evil of having offended You, O supreme Good, and I love You more than anything, more than my own life. I give myself entirely to You; my Jesus, from now on I embrace You, I press You to my heart; and from now on I entrust my whole soul to You. "In manus tuas commendo spiritum meum." I do not wish to wait to give it to You when the departure from this world shall be announced (with that "Proficiscere"). I do not wish to wait until then to beg You to save me! "Iesus, sis mihi Iesus." My Savior, save me now by pardoning me and granting me the grace of Your holy love. Who knows whether this consideration I have read today is the last call You are giving me, the last mercy You are showing me? Stretch out Your hand, my Love, and draw me from the mire of my lukewarmness. Give me fervor; grant that I may obey You with great love in all that You ask of me. Eternal Father, for the love of Jesus Christ, give me holy perseverance and the grace to love You, and to love You greatly, in this life that remains to me.

O Mary, Mother of mercy, for the love you bear your Jesus, obtain for me these two graces: perseverance and love.