The Spectre of Death

I learned--inadvertently and unexpectedly by way of a second-hand tag--that a man I knew, had lived with and worked beside at The Catholic Worker 18 years ago, died this week in his early fifties. From what I gathered, it was by his own hand, and I was not surprised to learn from those in the community who knew him that he struggled with depression.

I don't feel comfortable or entitled to write about him in any kind of elegy fashion. It's a community committed to social justice in the far-left activist tradition that I no longer feel connected to. I have some fond memories of working in the community garden together, running around town in his old pick up truck picking up free food for the poor, attending Mass together across the street from where we lived, hanging anti-war and anti-capitalist messages hand painted on bedsheets out the bay window of our row house, and his tales of being arrested and protesting at the School of the Americas calling for demilitarization and nuclear disarmament. He was a difficult guy to live with temperament wise for me, but was true to his calling of radically living the Gospel message and embracing decentralized governance and voluntary poverty in the spirit of Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin. He was a one of a kind character for sure and dressed the part, with his gruff voice, barrel chest, overalls, and long nattled hair. Everybody in the 'hood knew and loved N.

I have written about suicide and resisting the allure of the phantasmal Noonday Demon here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here. It's no stranger, and though I may not feel entitled to write an elegy for N., the jarring reminder of the spectre of death that this demon brings on his back appeared when I read the news. No one, no family, is immune from it.

Our Lord says in scripture, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full (Jn 10:10). This describes my view of suicide; it robs life. It is always tragic, especially for those who love the one robbed of life. Like the Devil himself, the promises of suicide are lies, the ultimate lies.

On the topic of suicide, the Catechism states:

2280 Everyone is responsible for his life before God who has given it to him. It is God who remains the sovereign Master of life. We are obliged to accept life gratefully and preserve it for his honor and the salvation of our souls. We are stewards, not owners, of the life God has entrusted to us. It is not ours to dispose of.

2281 Suicide contradicts the natural inclination of the human being to preserve and perpetuate his life. It is gravely contrary to the just love of self. It likewise offends love of neighbor because it unjustly breaks the ties of solidarity with family, nation, and other human societies to which we continue to have obligations. Suicide is contrary to love for the living God.

2282 If suicide is committed with the intention of setting an example, especially to the young, it also takes on the gravity of scandal. Voluntary co-operation in suicide is contrary to the moral law.
Grave psychological disturbances, anguish, or grave fear of hardship, suffering, or torture can diminish the responsibility of the one committing suicide.

It is often presumed that the Church says with unequivocally that those who have committed this sin have bought a one way ticket to Hell. Although we can reasonably speculate that Hell is not, in fact, empty--that many, many people go there--it is not in fact for us to speculate on those who go there. We may be certain of those in Heaven, the canonized saints. But as to the eternal fate of the large majority of us commonplace run of the mill sinners--God reserves the knowledge. It is not our place to judge souls.

The Devil wants us to despair. But its antidote--hope--is a powerful virtue. As the Catechism states,

2283 We should not despair of the eternal salvation of persons who have taken their own lives. By ways known to him alone, God can provide the opportunity for salutary repentance. The Church prays for persons who have taken their own lives.

We should be careful not to stand in judgment. What a terrifying prospect, this ricocheting bullet in scripture that threatens to rip through our own lips from which the judgment emminated: "For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you" (Mt 7:2). To consign someone to Hell and then find our own names on the ticket!

Hearing of suicides--friends, family, strangers, teenagers, elderly, those well off with everything and those struggling under the weight of despair, men, women, veterans, housewives--it always shakes me. Because the face of the spectre of death is not a figment, but a familiar visitor I have to continue to resist, having wrestled like Jacob on the edge of the abyss with the Angel of Death, my hip put out of joint as a reminder of the struggle. He flees for a time, and it is only the inoculation of grace, I believe, that keeps him at bay.

Please offer a prayer for N, for the repose of his soul. St. Dymphna, pray for us.