There are many spiritual writers who have posited that embedded in
our DNA there is, as it were, a yearning for and a longing toward
greatness. Gurus like Teilhard de
Chardin and thinkers like Simone Weil have said that we have inside of us a
very deep longing to submit ourselves in obedience to a higher power. If we do not do this, we will end up the
other way – being pompous, self-interested, self-serving, and living in a very
small world. It is when we endeavor to
submit ourselves in humble adoration of true greatness that is beyond the self,
that we can overcome the constant temptation to live only for the self, and to
secretly yearn to be adored through our stories of success and recognition.
The early Christians may not have developed this notion well in
terms of pithy statements, but they certainly lived it well. Many of them got it right when they longed
for martyrdom as an aim of their Christian living. For them, apparently, martyrdom was something
normal, and not extraordinary. It was a
sure-fire way to show how determined one was to attain heaven at all costs,
even to the extent of losing one’s earthly life in the process. Psychologists these days will have plenty to
say about what martyrdom complex in an individual may reveal in terms of achievements
and personal grandiosity, but by and large, it has always been acknowledged
that the foundation of the Church had been laid by the blood of the
martyrs.
Martyrdom when understood in a healthy way and lived out in our
current times often does not need to include the shedding of blood. Perhaps one of the least appreciated and easily
misunderstood martyrdoms is that of dying a happy death. I have written and pondered in this blog-site
about what dying a happy death encompasses, largely because our Catholic
culture has its patron saint, St Joseph, who is the patron of a happy
death. But it bears repetition and a
re-visiting to appreciate in a new way what in essence a truly happy death is
as far as the Christian mind is concerned.
Perhaps what needs to be debunked first is that a happy death
excludes tragedy, suffering and pain of any sort. A superficial understanding of a happy death
seems to have the misguided notion that one should just fall into a deep
slumber and without the slightest experience of suffering or pain, have one’s
heart stop beating and drift off into the bliss of heavenly eternity. If this is what marks a happy death, then
perhaps the majority of the human race, and definitely very very few canonized
saints had not had a happy death at all.
It’s more a rarity than a reality, which then makes the prayer for such
a happy death something closer to a figment of our imagination, or wishful
thinking.
But a happy death needs to be seen in what has to be the blueprint
of what a truly human life is, and for us, this is the life of Jesus our Lord
and Saviour. His death a blueprint? Does this mean that I should be dying after
being beaten and scourged, stripped and bleeding, hanging and shamefully naked from
a cross?
Lest we get carried away with our imagination, it is what Jesus bore
in his heart and what he carried deep within that marks what his death gave
us. His amazing ability to not blame and
shame and victimize those who hated him is what gave him the ability to
surrender everything back to the Father in love and humility. In that grace-filled act, Jesus handed over
his death for the salvation of the world.
One spiritual writer describes it so well when he said that one of the
things that makes Christ’s death is so special and saving is that he didn’t
carry the cross and then send them the bill.
A happy death is thus marked by what we do not do, rather than what
we do. Suffering is part of the package
of life that we have been given, and how we handle it exposes where we get our
energies from. If we are bitter, angry
and want to make others pay for this, we will emit out from our hearts a bitter
energy, an angry disposition and the need to send everybody the bill for our
pains and sufferings and anguish. But
when we become transformers of these energies and instead of bitterness send
out kindness, instead of anger give out forgiveness, and instead of sending
others the bill of our sufferings give out love and charity, we truly become
the presence of divinity in the world around us.
To want to live this way answers the deep and often silent heart
deep within each of our authentic selves that bears the divine DNA of God
through our baptismal identity. We may
not realise this, but to want to hand over our deaths in a life-giving way and
to end our lives in holy surrender and not with bitter regret is something that
we all share as God’s children. This is
what handing our deaths over to others means at its deepest level. It means that we are willing to let our own
deaths, firstly our little deaths each day, and then our one great act of dying
at the end of our lives, to be something that energizes others and empowers
others to love and live well. But as
Christians, we need to do this with a consciousness that shows that we are
richly influenced by Christ and not by our own egos and vanity. This is perhaps the real hard task of dying
well, and dying happy. It requires us to
put our faith at the forefront of both our living and our dying.
When done well, we give over our lives to those we leave behind an
energy and a vigour that has a lasting value and power that is beyond
ourselves. The ‘happiness’ becomes
something that is passed on to those who live on in this world so that they are
similarly empowered to be co-transformers of the world to help to make ‘God’s
kingdom come’.
Being aware of this constantly means that it doesn’t matter if we
die of a debilitating illness, a traffic or industrial accident, or through the
sheer carelessness of another human being.
These things do happen in fact.
One parting note about dying well also necessarily means that we
leave very little unfinished business tended to in our lives. This ‘business’ refers to words and gestures
that we know should be shared with those who will stand to benefit from them
most, and these parties often are not necessarily our loved ones, but includes
those who are also the thorns in our sides.
Our dying well necessitates a deliberate reaching out to them in love,
charity and patience – acts that will no doubt stretch our hearts in love. But we will only be able to do this with a
conscious choice because Jesus first stretched out his arms on the Cross
becoming the saving conduit between heaven and earth.
The past can sometimes be a murky mess ......I pray everyday for all who i may have offended (often unintentionally) and all who have hurt me perhaps unknowingly.....someone said actions speak louder than words but sometimes all we have are words and prayers
ReplyDeleteA time to joy and a time to mourn. A time to born and a time to die. Everything on earth there is a time to begin and a time to end. Sadly we are dwelling in a secular world and have taught us that money could buy our health, youth and even extend longevity.
ReplyDeleteI start to meditate on death by slowly let go my desire and by praying to allow the Holy Spirit be my counsellor. I would not have a wake up call if I do not mourn on my decease mum and dad that give me love, hope and faith. I am sure they are praying unceasingly in Heaven for me and my sibling.
My life on earth is just a pilgrim. It is time to awake thyself and not at the hour of my death. Labour will last but a short time and then will receive everlasting rest and peace. If I am faithful and fervent in doing good, there is no doubt that God will be faithful and generous in receiving me. I no longer looking for retreat that offer me good food and luxury accommodation. It is a time to worship and being love.