Within days of writing my last column, which was about death, my father-in-law, Stephen, passed away.
He had been ill for quite a while after having had a series of strokes a few years ago. Since then he had been bound to a hospital bed and only able to communicate with us to varying degrees.
Scott’s mom, Karen, had been selflessly and faithfully caring for him, while still working full-time.
Over the past few months, Stephen was much more himself. He was sitting up more and talking with us, almost like normal. Only a week before he passed away, we were there visiting. Everyone was eating Chinese food and birthday cake while he graciously smiled and told us not to worry about him, that he was fine with his feed bag. Can you imagine not having tasted food for almost four years?!
In the very last conversation that he ever had with me, he quoted Scripture, and commented that “one day” he would be walking again, running, eating, talking, and at his prime. Of course, he was referring to his hopes of heaven.
This conversation was, in a way, the counter to my last article, written on the fear of death. While still loving his family, and grateful for the gift of his life, Stephen was longing for heaven, and so, in a sense, longing for earthly death. Life had been tough, and so he lived in hope, the virtue by which we firmly trust that God will give us eternal life and the means to obtain it.
Interestingly enough, the means to obtain that eternal life includes not only earthly death, but also our earthly life. How we spend our time on earth is part of our preparation for eternity. What we give ourselves to while still here, will claim us when we’re there.
I know that the idea of heaven is different for most people. Some imagine literal clouds and feathered angels, while others imagine a light that overcomes all physical realities. I have no doubt that heaven will surprise each of us, as it will be beyond description. Though, in the same way that man is made in God’s image, I sometimes think of earth as being made in heaven’s image. Though it is broken, like man, there is still beauty, life, and dignity that is meant to raise our hearts and minds to the fullness of beauty, life, and dignity, and to give us the hope of heaven.
Every spring, as Easter comes nearer, the earth breathes out a sigh of grace, and the humus brings forth life once again. The beauty that we might take for granted, in our own self-absorption, or maybe just in our daily busy-ness, is meant to be a small witness to the indescribable beauty and glory that is offered to us, but still beyond our sight.
Life and death hold hands, it seems, as you cannot have one without the other, physically, or spiritually. There is no way into heaven without first having spiritually died to self. We cannot receive the gifts of God for all eternity until we have emptied our hands of all that we cling to on earth.
Before Stephen’s funeral, Scott explained the purpose of a funeral Mass to his non-Catholic family members, telling them that a funeral was not a canonization, it was a time to pray for his father, who was on a journey to God. “As Catholics, we believe that all of us are called to be conformed to Christ, and so much so, that when we die and come into the presence of the Lord, into his fiery love, all of those ‘things of this world’ that don’t belong in the Kingdom of God, fall from us, and we become as gold purified in the fire.”
Without using the word purgatory, he explained its meaning, a “purifying encounter with Christ,” as Pope Benedict called it. I thought it was beautifully put, and a perfect way of describing the kind of death we are called to, not only in purgatory, but here, and on a daily basis: allowing God’s fiery love to consume the things of the world, so that, purified, we might evermore empty ourselves, but only to be filled again with perfect love and joy.
“Behold, I make all things new. Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.” And he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning, and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the fountain of the water of life without payment. He who conquers shall have this heritage, and I will be his God and he shall be my son.” (Rev 21:4-8)
