IC I: 23, 29^th Sunday of Year A, 2002

I have always been moved hearing stories of death-bed conversions. Most of them rarely get committed to pen and paper however, and that=s to be regretted. What most interests me about these is that the mercy of God pursues a soul even unto its last hour on earth. Once the threshold of the door of death has successfully been crossed, there=s no further chance to repent, to make amends to an offended or neglected God, or to gain more merit for the life beyond. What further causes wonder is the explanation for the last minute turnabout in a particular case, when so many others fail the final exam. Was there perhaps someone who had been praying for the conversion of sinners and who thereby was granted the conversion of this one soul? Or, was there some initial movement towards God that prepared for his conversion to the faith? The answer to these questions must await eternity when our thirst for comprehending the mercy and justice of God will be satisfied.

(As an aside: When I hear about politicians who are claiming to be Catholic but who oppose the unconditional preservation of innocent human life, or who advocate immoral styles of living, I wonder if they ever have meditated on the moment of their death. What changes would they have made in their views if they had been given a preview of the state of their soul at hour of death, ready to face the justice of Almighty God? It=s too bad that we don=t hear more about those final moments of life for those who are given a final graceBit remains the privileged knowledge of priests who hear the last confession of a departing soul. But, then, even to be allowed to make a final confession is itself a privilege not always granted!)

The fact is that there are some who depart from this life as hardened sinners. There are others who might wish to make amends but who die filled with remorse in an unprovided death. Why is it that we are reluctant to live under the aspect of our final end? Is it because we shun the very thought of death because we are afraid of it? Or is it because foolishly postpone preparation for death because we live in an age of youth-mindedness and flatter ourselves with the prospect of living a long life?

We have had reports aplenty of those near-death experiences in which people, close to the final separation of the soul from their bodies, have told their various accounts of peace or of terror, that were awaiting them. Why did it take this extremity to bring about a change in life?

The starting point for any conversion is the end point. There is a >deadline= we have all to make. It=s moment has already been determined by God; it remains unknown only to us, but is forever fixed by God=s eternal decree. The spiritual man considers that every day might be his last, and so, he lives reverently all his days under the gaze of God. As children we were schooled in preparing for death from our earliest years: Aif I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.@ Yes, this could be my last day. Health and fortune are never certain.

Our Lord warned us not only that we cannot know the day nor the hour of our death, but that we ought to be going about in life doing as much good as can, amassing riches in heavenBwhat we call >merits=Btreasures cannot be stolen. Too busy for the rosary? Putting off your duties because of other pleasurable pursuits? Delaying reconciliation with God or with some person for another time? Do a charitable work someday but not now. Do we think that we will have a endless number of days to all the good we would like to do? As it is, we can only accomplish a small number of the many good things possible for us.

The excerpt from the Imitation of Christ that is printed in today=s church paper is meant to arouse in us a salutary fear of our last moment on earth: fear, in the sense of >respect= for that determining moment of our whole eternity.

One of the real joys for a priest is to have assisted a soul in what we call a Ahappy death.@ Unlike the things we often hear about Aa good way to go@, a happy death need not mean that there are friends or relatives present. It doesn=t mean having a last good meal of favorite foods, or dying with all earthly affairs in order. A good death means having the last sacraments with confession, communion and anointing, the apostolic indulgence that remits all punishments in the next life, the intercession of the praying Church, and the opening of the door of heaven by Jesus, Mary and Joseph, the patrons of a happy death. A priest comes away from such an experience with a renewed sense of his mission as a minister of God=s grace.

Have a mind to your death. Seek to please God as if today were the day of your summons. You will live differently now and you will die the better for it. Your whole eternal future depends on the last chord: in tune with celestial harmonies or discordant forever.