Consideration VIII - THE DEATH OF THE JUST

"Pretiosa in conspectu Domini mors sanctorum eius" (Ps. 115:15).

Point I

Death, viewed according to the senses, frightens and makes itself feared; but according to faith it consoles and makes itself desired. It appears terrible to sinners, but shows itself lovable and precious to the Saints: "Pretiosa," says St. Bernard, "tanquam finis laborum, victoriae consummatio, vitae ianua." "Finis laborum" — yes, death is the end of toils and troubles. "Homo natus de muliere, brevi vivens tempore, repletur multis miseriis" (Job 14:1). Behold what our life is: it is short and full of miseries, illnesses, fears, and passions. The worldly who desire a long life — what else do they seek, says Seneca, but a longer torment? "Tanquam vita petitur supplicii mora."

What is continuing to live but continuing to suffer? says St. Augustine: "Quid est diu vivere, nisi diu torqueri?" Yes, because (as St. Ambrose warns us) the present life is given to us not for rest, but for labor, and through labor to merit eternal life: "Haec vita homini non ad quietem data est, sed ad laborem." Hence Tertullian rightly says that when God shortens someone's life, He shortens his torment: "Longum Deus adimit tormentum, cum vitam concedit brevem." Therefore, although death is given to man as punishment for sin, the miseries of this life are nonetheless so many that death (as St. Ambrose says) seems given to us as a relief, not as a punishment: "Ut mors remedium videatur esse, non poena." God calls blessed those who die in His grace, because they end their labors and go to rest: "Beati mortui qui in Domino moriuntur... Amodo iam dicit Spiritus, ut requiescant a laboribus suis" (Rev. 14:13).

The torments that afflict sinners at death do not afflict the Saints. "Iustorum animae in manu Dei sunt, non tanget illos tormentum mortis" (Wis. 3:1). The Saints — they are not dismayed by that "Proficiscere" that so frightens the worldly. The Saints are not grieved at having to leave the goods of this earth, since they have kept their hearts detached from them. "Deus cordis mei," they have always said, "et pars mea, Deus, in aeternum." Blessed are you, the Apostle wrote to his disciples, who had been stripped of their goods for Jesus Christ: "Rapinam bonorum vestrorum cum gaudio suscepistis, cognoscentes vos meliorem et manentem substantiam" (Heb. 10). They are not grieved at leaving honors, since they have rather abhorred them and held them (as they are) for smoke and vanity; they have esteemed only the honor of loving and being loved by God. They are not grieved at leaving their relatives, since they have loved them only in God; dying, they leave them commended to that heavenly Father who loves them more than they do; and hoping to be saved, they think that from paradise, better than from this earth, they will be able to help them. In short, what they have always said in life — "Deus meus, et omnia" — with greater consolation and tenderness they repeat at death.

He who dies loving God is not disturbed by the pains that death brings; rather, he takes pleasure in them, thinking that life is now ending and there is no more time to suffer for God and offer Him further signs of his love; so with affection and peace he offers these last remains of his life, and consoles himself in uniting the sacrifice of his death with the sacrifice that Jesus Christ once offered for him on the cross to His Eternal Father. And so he happily dies, saying: "In pace in idipsum dormiam, et requiescam." Oh, what a peace it is to die, abandoning oneself and resting in the arms of Jesus Christ, who loved us unto death and willed to make His own death a bitter one, in order to obtain for us a death that is sweet and consoled!

Affections and Prayers

O my beloved Jesus, who in order to obtain for me a gentle death willed to die so bitter a death on Calvary — when shall I see You? The first time I shall have to see You, I shall see You as my Judge in that very place where I shall breathe my last. What shall I say to You then? What will You say to me? I do not wish to wait until then to think of it; I wish to meditate upon it now. I shall say to You thus: My dear Redeemer, so then, You are the One who died for me? At one time I offended You and was ungrateful to You, and I did not deserve pardon; but then, aided by Your grace, I came to my senses, and in the rest of my life I wept over my sins, and You pardoned me. Pardon me again, now that I stand at Your feet, and give me Yourself a general absolution of my sins. I did not deserve to love You any longer, for having despised Your love; but You, by Your mercy, drew my heart to Yourself, and if it has not loved You as You deserve, at least it has loved You above all things, leaving everything to please You. Now what do You say to me? I see that paradise and possessing You in Your kingdom is too great a good for me; but I cannot bear to live far from You, especially now that You have made me know Your lovable and beautiful face. I ask You then for paradise, not for greater enjoyment, but to love You better. Send me to purgatory for as long as You please. No, neither do I wish to come to that homeland of purity and find myself among those pure souls so soiled with stains as I am at present. Send me to be purified, but do not banish me forever from Your face; only let it be that one day, when it pleases You, You call me to paradise to sing Your mercies for eternity. For now, come, my beloved Judge, raise Your hand and bless me; and tell me that I am Yours, and that You are and always will be mine. I will always love You; You will always love me. Behold, now I go far from You, I go to the fire; but I go content, for I go to love You, my Redeemer, my God, my all. I go content, yes, but know that during this time I shall be far from You — know that this will be the greatest of my pains, to be far from You. I go, Lord, to count the moments until Your call. Have pity on a soul that loves You with all itself and sighs to see You in order to love You better.

So I hope, my Jesus, to say to You then. Therefore I beg You to give me the grace to live in such a way that I can say to You then what I have now thought. Give me holy perseverance; give me Your love.

And help me, O Mother of God, Mary; pray to Jesus for me.

Point II

"Absterget Deus omnem lacrimam ab oculis eorum, et mors ultra non erit" (Rev. 21:4). The Lord will then dry from the eyes of His servants the tears they shed in this life, living in pain, in fears, in dangers, and in combats with hell. This is what will most console a soul that has loved God, upon hearing the news of death: the thought that soon it will be freed from the many dangers there are in this life of offending God, from so many anguishes of conscience and from so many temptations of the devil. The present life is a continual warfare with hell, in which we are in continual danger of losing our soul and God. St. Ambrose says that in this land "inter laqueos ambulamus": we always walk among the snares of the enemies who lie in ambush for the life of grace. This danger was what made St. Peter of Alcantara say while he was dying: "Brother, step back" — it was a religious who in helping him was touching him — "step back, for I am still alive, and I am in danger of being damned." This danger also consoled St. Teresa every time she heard the clock strike, rejoicing that another hour of combat had passed, since she said: At every moment of life I can sin and lose God. Hence the Saints, at the news of death, are all consoled, thinking that soon the battles and dangers will end, and they are near to securing the happy lot of never being able to lose God again.

It is told in the Lives of the Fathers that an old Father, dying in Scythia, while the others wept, was laughing. Asked why he laughed, he replied: "And why do you weep, seeing that I am going to rest? Ex labore ad requiem vado, et vos ploratis?" Similarly, St. Catherine of Siena, as she lay dying, said: "Console yourselves with me, for I leave this land of pain and go to the place of peace." If someone lived, says St. Cyprian, in a house where the walls were crumbling and the floors and roofs trembled, and everything threatened ruin, how much should he desire to leave it! In this life everything threatens ruin to the soul: the world, hell, the passions, the rebellious senses — all draw us to sin and to eternal death. "Quis me liberabit," exclaimed the Apostle, "de corpore mortis huius?" (Rom. 7:24). Oh, what joy the soul will feel when it hears itself told: "Veni de Libano, sponsa mea, veni de cubilibus leonum" (Song 4:8). Come, spouse, leave the place of tears and the dens of lions that seek to devour you and make you lose divine grace. Hence St. Paul, desiring death, said that Jesus Christ was his only life, and therefore he considered dying the greatest gain he could make, in acquiring by death that life which has no end: "Mihi vivere Christus est, et mori lucrum" (Phil. 1:21).

It is a great favor that God does a soul when, while it is in grace, He takes it from this earth where it may change and lose His friendship: "Raptus est, ne malitia mutaret intellectum eius" (Wis. 4:11). Happy in this life is he who lives united with God; but just as a navigator cannot call himself secure until he has reached port and left the storm behind, so a soul cannot call itself fully happy until it departs this life in the grace of God. "Lauda navigantis felicitatem, sed cum pervenit ad portum," says St. Ambrose. Now, if the navigator rejoices when, after so many perils, he is near to reaching port, how much more will he rejoice who is near to securing his eternal salvation?

Moreover, in this life one cannot live without faults, at least venial ones. "Septies enim cadet iustus" (Prov. 24:16). He who departs this life ceases to displease God. "Quid est mors," said St. Ambrose, "nisi sepultura vitiorum?" This too is what makes the lovers of God greatly desire death. With this the Venerable Father Vincent Carafa consoled himself as he lay dying, saying: In ending my life, I end my offending God. And St. Ambrose himself said: "Quid vitam istam desideramus, in qua quanto diutius quis fuerit, tanto maiore oneratur sarcina peccatorum?" He who dies in the grace of God puts himself in a state of being unable to offend Him any longer, and of not even knowing how. "Mortuus nescit peccare," said the same Saint. Therefore the Lord praises the dead more than any living person, however holy: "Laudavi magis mortuos, quam viventes" (Eccl. 4:2). A certain good man ordered that at his death, whoever brought him the news should say: Rejoice, for the time has come when you will offend God no more.

Affections and Prayers

"In manus tuas commendo spiritum meum; redemisti me, Domine Deus veritatis." Ah, my sweet Redeemer, what would have become of me if You had let me die when I was far from You? I would already be in hell, where I could no longer love You. I thank You for not having abandoned me and for having given me so many graces to win my heart. I repent of having offended You. I love You above all things. Ah, I beg You, make me know ever more clearly the evil I have done in despising You, and the love that Your infinite goodness deserves. I love You, and I desire to die soon (if it so pleases You), to free myself from the danger of returning to lose Your grace, and to be assured of loving You for eternity. Ah, for these remaining years of my life, my beloved Jesus, give me strength to do something for You before death comes. Give me fortitude against temptations and passions, especially against the passion that in the past has most drawn me to displease You. Give me patience in illnesses and in the injuries I shall receive from others. Now, for love of You, I pardon everyone who has shown me any contempt, and I beg You to grant them the graces they desire. Give me strength to be more diligent in avoiding even venial faults, in which I know I have been negligent. My Savior, help me; I hope for everything through Your merits; and I place all my trust in your intercession, O Mother and hope of mine, Mary.

Point III

Death is not only the end of troubles, but also the gate of life. "Finis laborum, vitae ianua," as St. Bernard says. He who wishes to enter to see God must necessarily pass through this gate. "Ecce porta Domini, iusti intrabunt in eam" (Ps. 117:20). St. Jerome prayed to death, saying: "Aperi mihi, soror mea." Death, my sister, if you do not open the door for me, I cannot go to enjoy my Lord. St. Charles Borromeo, seeing a picture in his house in which a skeleton was painted with a scythe in its hand, called the painter and ordered him to erase the scythe and paint there a golden key, wishing thereby to kindle ever more his desire for death, because death is what must open paradise for us to see God.

St. John Chrysostom says: If the king had prepared a dwelling for someone in his royal palace, but for the present kept him living in a hut, how greatly should that man desire to leave the hut and pass to the palace! In this life the soul, being in the body, is as if in a prison, from which it must go out to enter the palace of heaven. Therefore David prayed: "Educ de custodia animam meam" (Ps. 141:8). And the holy old man Simeon, when he held the infant Jesus in his arms, asked no other grace of Him than death, to be freed from the prison of the present life: "Nunc dimittis servum tuum, Domine." St. Ambrose says: "Quasi necessitate teneretur, dimitti petit." The same grace the Apostle desired when he said: "Cupio dissolvi, et esse cum Christo" (Phil. 1).

What joy the cupbearer of Pharaoh had when he learned from Joseph that soon he was to leave prison and return to his post! And shall not a soul that loves God rejoice upon hearing that soon it is to be released from this earth and go to enjoy God? "Dum sumus in corpore, peregrinamur a Domino" (2 Cor. 5:6). While we are united with the body, we are far from the sight of God, as in a foreign land, away from our homeland; and therefore St. Bruno says that our death ought not to be called death, but life: "Mors dicenda non est, sed vitae principium." Hence the death of the Saints is called their birthday; yes, because at their death they are born to that blessed life that will have no end. "Non est iustis mors, sed translatio," says St. Athanasius. For the just, death is nothing other than a passage to eternal life. O lovable death, said St. Augustine, who is there that would not desire you, since you are the end of troubles, the close of labor, and the beginning of eternal rest? "O mors desiderabilis, malorum finis, laboris clausula, quietis principium!" Therefore the Saint prayed with longing: "Eia moriar, Domine, ut Te videam."

He who, standing in the grace of God, hopes to pass from death to life need not fear death, says St. Cyprian; only the sinner must fear, who from his temporal death must pass to eternal death: "Mori timeat, qui ad secundam mortem de hac morte transibit." In the Life of St. John the Almsgiver it is told that a certain rich man commended to the Saint his only son, and gave him many alms so that he might obtain from God a long life for the boy; but the son died a short time after. The father then complaining of his son's death, God sent him an Angel who said: You sought a long life for your son; know that this he already enjoys eternally in heaven. This is the grace that Jesus Christ obtained for us, as was promised through Hosea: "Ero mors tua, o mors" (Hos. 13:14). Jesus, by dying for us, made our death become life. St. Pionius the Martyr, as he was being led to the scaffold, was asked by those who led him how he could go so cheerfully to death. The Saint replied: "Erratis, non ad mortem, sed ad vitam contendo." So too was the young St. Symphorian encouraged by his mother as he stood near martyrdom: "Nate, tibi vita non eripitur, sed mutatur in melius."

Affections and Prayers

O God of my soul, in the past I dishonored You by turning my back on You; but Your Son honored You by sacrificing His life on the cross for You. For the honor, then, that Your beloved Son gave You, pardon me the dishonor I have done You. I repent, O supreme Good, of having offended You, and I promise You from this day forward to love nothing but You. My salvation I hope for from You. Whatever good I have at present is all Your grace; all of it I owe to You. "Gratia Dei sum id quod sum." If in the past I dishonored You, I hope to honor You for eternity by blessing Your mercy. I feel within me a great desire to love You; this You give me, and I thank You for it, my Love. Continue, continue to help me as You have begun, for I hope from this day forward to be Yours and entirely Yours. I renounce all the pleasures of the world. And what greater pleasure can I have than to please You, my Lord, so lovable, who have loved me so much? Love alone I ask of You, O my God — love, love; and I hope to ask You always for love, love, until, dying in Your love, I may reach the kingdom of love, where without asking for it any longer I shall be filled with love, without ever ceasing for a moment to love You there for eternity, and with all my strength.

Mary, my Mother, you who so greatly love your God and so greatly desire to see Him loved, grant that I may love Him greatly in this life, so that I may love Him greatly in the next, forever.