Tuesday, October 24, 2017

They Took No Oil With Them

When I used to visit men in prison (a work I am trying to get back into if the County every gets around to approving my clearances) we used to celebrate the feast of St. Dismas ("Dismas Day") with the inmates. Unnamed in Luke's gospel, this "penitent thief" crucified next to Jesus is joined in his death sentence by another criminal who reviled Jesus, taunting 'Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself, and us'" (Lk 23:39). So, this scene is a bi-lateral view of what leads one to paradise in the final hour, and what damns one to destruction.

Now, when I would visit and speak with these guys on the ward, offer an ear, pray and read Scripture with them, it was clear that many had gotten "jailhouse religion" but had not undergone a true transformation of the heart. They were wearing the "spiritual jacket" and, if I could be quite honest, it was not a little bit off-putting. It's not my place to judge hearts, but the longer you spend with the guys, the more you can really get worked on, manipulated, and "played" if you are not careful. I always kept a healthy skepticism about veneer jailhouse conversions while also trying to be sensitive to those who had really faced what they had done and wanted to be forgiven and washed clean by the blood of Christ. It's an important and difficult balance to maintain in this kind of ministry.

It's not just my fellow brothers who are incarcerated who have the struggle here; perhaps even more trenched in is the wall-less spiritual prison of the suburban playground of presumption. In this comfortable land of leisure, sincere repentance and reform is like a stranger in bedraggled clothes that comes lurking around people making them uncomfortable, who cross to the other side of the street to avoid him. The awareness of sin that results in death (mortal sin) and the potential to be eternally damned in this pleasant milieu amounts to a terminal ignorance. For those involved in the work of evangelization, ignoring the call to repentance and the encouragement to take up, at minimum, the responsibility in justice to attend Mass weekly, regular Confession, and regular prayer for those who have fallen away from the faith, amounts to a spiritual negligence to which we will be held to account.  Deacon John Beagan wrote at Crisis about this struggle to evangelize the middle-class and Boomers living the 'good life':

"Initially, however, it will not be easy to get the attention of the lukewarm and absent middle-class while presenting this case. Most will not be interested because life is pretty good and they intuitively believe everyone goes to heaven. I constantly see this presumption of eternal life, especially during eulogies. While I hope to God he will have mercy on us all, this presumption is not consistent with the Gospels and New Testament.  
In fact, we are doing the faithful a great disservice, and shrinking our Church, when we do not present and uphold the complete drama of eternal salvation, for example, that we must work out our salvation in fear and trembling (Phil 2:12)."

Fr. David Nix's reflections on the death of Hugh Hefner confirmed for me a grave danger that I have been thinking a lot about lately, one that I believe is underappreciated today--the hardening of heart and lack of sincere repentance at the hour of death, as well as the difficulty (and rarity) of making a Perfect Act of Contrition after living for years or decades ignorant of God's grace . We always hold out hope for the deathbed conversion of sinners, and God can save anyone, but the fact of the matter is that they are, I suspect, rarer than we might want to believe. We do not, generally speaking, turn our lives on a dime. The weightiness of a lifetime of individual choices that turn away from God, consistently and cumulatively, make our lives more like a U-boat than a sailboat. A daily examen and regular Confession is indispensable for not finding ourselves one of the "foolish virgins," in the dark with no oil for our lamps. We plan for our estates, but do little to prepare our souls to be disposed towards acts of repentance.

Think for a moment of the scenarios we may find ourselves in at our last hour; if we are young and approach the Throne of Judgment, it may have been due to a sudden car crash, a shooting, a freak accident, or a terminal diagnosis. Will we be mentally cognizant? Will we be aware enough to remember those times we have stuffed into corners of darkness, hoping no one will ever see, those hidden sins we keep buried, to flush them out into the light of day? Will we have the strength to forgive our enemies and those who have wronged us when we are bleeding out on a pile of glass, or fighting to take a breaths in the hospital bed as our lungs fill with fluid? How much more so for the middle-aged and old, who have neglected to offer due worship to God, charity to the poor, and reparations for their sins in this life? How much we presume!

I shared a reflection some time back of a friend of my wife's who was diagnosed with lung cancer. It progressed quickly, she was moved to home hospice, and died not long thereafter. I felt a strong sense of urgency during the whole ordeal, but only God knows her judgment. We did our best to minister to her, arranging for a priest to come and administer Last Rites while she was still conscious, and were praying the rosary and the Psalms by her bedside while holding her hand, letting her know she was loved. She was a lovely woman, and a fallen-away Catholic; I encouraged her to confess her sins to a priest and receive God's mercy--absolution, the forgiveness of sins--but to my knowledge she never did.

Have you known someone who repented, in tears of sorrow for their sins, on their bed before death? I pray you have, and let me know if so. But I suspect, most times, we double-down in unbelief and go stiff-necked to our Judgment, or, just as bad, shrug at the opportunity to confess our sins and receive absolution as if we were turning down another cup of jello from the hospital staff. I pray this is not the case with those I care about, and even my enemies, but my heart gets heavy with the reality of it all. If the stakes were not so high and everlasting I would not be so deranged with desire, I'd back to watching TV and shopping at the outlets and fretting about getting the kids to their activities. But if souls are truly "falling into hell like snowflakes," as St. Teresa of Avila mourned, I don't see how I could enjoy those things in any case, or un-see what I have seen.

Please, please...don't wait to repent. There's no guarantee you will have time the moment before your death or when that will come. Don't catch yourself outside the door yelling Lord, Lord, open to us!, only to be sent away (Mt 25:11). Close the door of your cell, and search your heart. "Fear him do not sin. Ponder on your bed and be still. Make justice your sacrifice and trust in the Lord." (Ps 4:4). Do it now, and do it with heartfelt compunction, and make it a regular part of your life along with Mass and reception of the Sacraments, lest you find yourselves outside the gates, wishing you had just a little more time.

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