At age 17, Francisco de Borja, son of the wealthy Duke of Gandía, was called to the court of Charles V, King of Spain and Holy Roman Emperor – the most powerful man in the world. His father had obtained for him the prestigious post of chamberlain to Charles’s beloved Queen, Isabel. After twelve years, when Isabel died at age 35, Franscico accompanied her body on the 226-mile journey from Toledo to Granada. As chamberlain to Her Majesty, it fell to Francisco officially to identify her body before burial.
Queen Isabel was legendarily beautiful. At age 35, then considered well into middle age, her beauty still surpassed the young women at court. But when the coffin was opened at the gates of Granada, Francisco was horrified at what he saw: “Had I not accompanied the bier all the way from Toledo,” he declared, “I could not say that this was the Empress.” The once legendarily beautiful face, which had stolen the heart of the most powerful man in the world, was disgustingly disfigured as it began to decompose. The body that had been scented by exquisite, rare flowers now stank.
In this moment, one of Europe’s most promising young noblemen “recognized the vanity of all that the world prizes so highly.” That night, as they kept vigil in the Cathedral, he asked himself: “What shall we do, Soul, what shall we seek? Have you not seen, Soul, how the brightest and most precious things of earth end? If death treats earth’s splendor so, who can resist it? That same death has his arrow directed at you. Were it not well to die to the world in life in order to live with God in death? Give me, O God, give me Your light, give me Your Spirit. … Nevermore will I serve a master who can die on me.” Francisco de Borja resigned his dukedom to become a Jesuit, and we now revere him as a saint.
“All that you see here – the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down.” On this final Sunday of Ordinary Time, the Church invites us to contemplate the end, the time when, “nation will rise against nation … and awesome sights and mighty signs will come from the sky.” But before that, Our Lord emphasizes, we must be ready for our own end, so that “By your perseverance you will secure your lives.”
The contemplation of death is a constant in the lives of the saints. They heeded the words of Sirach: “Remember your last days and set enmity aside; remember death and decay, and cease from sin!” There are few things as salutary as meditating on death. And since I do not have the body of an Empress to set before you, I want to guide you today in a meditation on death – not death in general, but your death.
We begin by considering what death is. Death is the separation of the body and soul. It is not the end of the human person. There is something within me that is immortal! I am responsible for a spark of immortality. My earthly body will not survive death, but I will – for good or for ill.
Next, we consider when we will die. Death is the most certain of human realities, but in its timing it is the most uncertain. Imagine yourself facing death after a long and happy old age. And then imagine yourself facing death unexpectedly, perhaps as the result of a sudden accident.
Imagine the worst. What would be the worst possible death? To face death knowing that you are in a state of mortal sin. Imagine knowingly dying in a state of sin, alienated from the Lord and assured of damnation. This is a powerful antidote to the sin of presumption: But for the grace of God, this is a real possibility for me.
Then, consider the teachings of Our Lord. “Stay awake and pray. You know neither the day nor the hour. It will come like in the time of Noah. It will come like a thief in the night.” How can I be more vigilant? How is my life of prayer? Consider the words of St. Paul: “You know how one must imitate us. For we did not act in a disorderly way among you.” Does my conduct imitate the saints? Or is it disorderly in some way? What are the vices of which I need to repent more deeply?
We can draw comfort from imagining the death of a saint. What was it like for St. Francis Borgia, for the Apostles, St. Teresa of Calcutta to take their last breaths? Some of them did so after the heroism of martyrdom, the final agony of a long triumph. Others died peacefully after receiving the last rites and the Eucharist as Viaticum, gazing at the Crucifix, slowly repeating the beloved name of the Savior: “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.”
The way that you will die will be determined largely by what you value in life. As the saints tell us, “It is not important a long life, but a holy life … It is not important health over sickness, long life over short life, riches over poverty, honors over humiliations, but rather that we save our souls.” What do I value most in life? Is it in accord with what Christ teaches us to value?
“By your perseverance you will secure your lives.” Having considered the real possibility of final perdition, imagine having persevered. Imagine being able to say confidently with St. Paul: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith,” but with the same humility commended by our Lord: “So you also, when you have done all that is commanded you, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty,’” aware that even doing my duty is only possible with the Lord’s grace. Beg the Lord for the gift of final perseverance, knowing that persisting in grace is only possible with His help.
Then, ask for the grace of conversion. Identify the biggest obstacle to your perseverance, and beg the Lord for the grace to overcome it. Be alert, ask the Lord to open your eyes to the manifestations of those obstacles, so that you can keep fighting them.
Close the meditation on death by considering the Lord’s mercy. How would it feel to receive the Lord’s great pardon? What joy would fill my heart hearing those words, “Come, O blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world,” knowing that it is only possible because of the great and overwhelming mercy of our Heavenly Father. Our hearts are filled with joy and wonder at God’s goodness and love.
Meditating on death will lead you to greater holiness, to an urgency in the Christian life, to seek healing for those long-festering wounds that could risk your eternal salvation. It should also lead to practical preparations for death. Too often, people who have been devout Catholics their entire lives do not receive the last Sacraments or a Christian burial because their family members didn’t know to call the priest, or thought they could “check the Catholic box” by having a priest “say a few words” at the funeral home or graveside. We are blessed to have a Diocesan-operated, Catholic funeral home with two locations in Fort Wayne. Make preparations with them ahead of time, especially if you bear the Cross of seeing your children not practice the Faith.
Having a real funeral Mass – with the body present – is not “making a big deal” about yourself. We’re going to talk about Jesus at your funeral Mass, not you. The funeral Mass is a recognition that the human person is a body and soul, that we have received grace through that body in the Sacraments, and that we long for that day, “when all the proud and all evildoers will be stubble, and the day that is coming will set them on fire, when there will arise the sun of justice with its healing rays,” and the tombs of all will be opened and their bodies will rise, the day for which even the Saints in Heaven long to be reunited with their bodies.
This is why a Christian funeral includes the burial of the body – as a recognition of its goodness, and a sign of our hope in the Resurrection. Cremation, while tolerated by the Church when not done out of pantheistic motives, lacks this eloquence of expression of our hope in the Resurrection.
A Christian burial is also a gift to your family. It gives closure, and it offers them the chance to meditate on death. Who knows – there could be a future St. Francis Borgia in your midst!
Meditating on death helps us to recognize our own sinfulness and finitude. When we meditate regularly on our own death, we recognize our dependency on the mercy of the Lord and the urgency of our reconciliation with him. Certainly, meditating on death should not be the only theme of our prayer, but if you make it a regular spiritual practice, you will find it makes you a more faithful Christian, with a broader perspective on what is really most important. “What shall we do, Soul, what shall we seek? … Give me, O God, give me Your light, give me Your Spirit. … Nevermore will I serve a master who can [only] die.”
The Rev. Royce V. Gregerson
Parish Church of Our Lady of Good Hope, Fort Wayne
XXXIII Sunday through the Year, A.D. MMXXV
Resources for meditating on death:
Thomas a Kempis, Meditations on Death
St. Alphonus Liguori, Preparation for Death
https://archive.org/details/preparationforde00ligu/page/6/mode/2up
A meditation on the death of King Saul:
https://catholicexchange.com/ten-short-lenten-meditations-on-death-eternity/
Father Gregerson 