Please Don't Post My #death

 I've made three requests of my wife for when my time comes to pass from this world to the next--whether that is tomorrow or fifty years from now. I haven't gotten around to drafting my death wish in writing, but she knows the following are my three requests when it comes time:

-Requiem Latin Mass (a given)

-No eulogy (will probably be contested, but I won't be there to fight her on it)

-No sharing of my passing on social media or any kind (a non-negotiable)

The window of death is one of the most sacred portals we can pass through. It is the anti-opus; everything in your life culminates in that moment, but at the same time it amounts to but a drop in the ocean of eternity. What you lived for, what you died for, what you worked all your life for--all of it will be revealed and judged. But the only one whose judgment matters is the one who sits on the Throne of Judgement.

Having Masses said for the dead is a supreme act of charity and is the most valued currency in the spiritual economy. If you've ever been to a requiem TLM, it is a fitting send off--solemn, reverent, a good visual reminder, and everything the dead deserve. I can't say the same for other funerals I have attended, because they are quite the opposite. 

On the second point, my request for no eulogy should not be controversial, as this practice has no place in the context of a Catholic Mass. Eulogy is Greek for "words of praise," and if anyone is going to be praised at the Holy Sacrifice for how he lived, what he taught and how he died, that man is Christ. I would even prefer were there a homily given, it doesn't involve me at all, but perhaps an allowance could be made for the things I held to in this life as they reflect back to the glory of Christ in the context of the Gospel--discipleship, forgiveness, prayer, charity. The poor are blessed not only because they hold company with Lazarus who was welcome into blessed repose, but also because they die in obscurity and with little fanfare. They are remembered in Heaven, because they never had the consolation of remembrance or praise in this life. 

On the final point--my wife has mentioned that social media is "cheap." I think she means it in the way Bonhoeffer referred to the "cheap grace" that so many Christians seek. And so she has agreed to honor this wish because she knows the nature of it and that I'm serious about it. To be scrolling through and see a post on the horrors of war, followed by a funny cat video and then an advertisement for bathrobes or whatever elevates the frivolous and cheapens the elevated until everything is content and nothing is worth anything. We've all bought into and fallen prey to this, and people are starting to wake up and extricate themselves from this experiment of exploitation-gone-wrong. The more people the better, in my opinion. 

I'm not exactly a public figure, but I've put myself out there in this digital landscape like a fisherman to pay back my debt to Christ under obligation in the hopes that "some might be saved." This is my cross, and I bear it gladly. 

But I also know that the wise man knows the true nature of things, as he says

"For the living know that they die, and the dead do not know anything, and there is no more reward to them, for their remembrance has been forgotten" (Ecc 9:5)

and

"For neither the wise nor the fool will be long remembered, since in days to come everything will be forgotten" (Ecc 2:16)

And so it is inevitable that we will be forgotten, and quicker than we might think; if we live knowing the footprints we leave in this life will not be cast in bronze, the sooner we can get to the work of laboring in charity and obscurity for the things which moth will not destroy, and no one will want to steal. We will be more apt to give with our right hand while our left hand is left in the dark; we will not seek our names on stadiums or auditoriums. Our memory will be safely embalmed in the minds of those who matter, those whom we loved, not in cheap digital posts to be scrolled through and forgotten.   

After Confession last night, my penance was to pray the prayer of St. Francis three times. It is fitting that the good St. Francis wanted to die naked, eschewing even his beloved ragged and patched habit; he only put it on under obedience. I've prayed it before, but never paid much attention to the words:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console,

to be understood as to understand,

to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive,

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Death for the Christian is the ultimate sentence and the ultimate gift. When we are caught unaware like foolish virgins, we should tremble; but as St. Robert Bellarmine said, "he who lives well, dies well" and so I look forward to the day when the Lord will call me home and loose me from my debt I've incurred and tried to repay in this life. When He calls is His good judgment. I know He is the only one I have to answer to. For He has promised me, “Yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee" (Is 49:15).