When people die

In a mysterious way, it was Christian death which brought me to Christian life. Years ago, I had the unfortunate experience of going to three funerals in short succession. The first was a normal Christian memorial service for the aged husband of an artist friend, the second was at a Unity church for the teenage son of another artist friend of mine who had shot himself either accidentally or on purpose and the third was for my own MIL.

It was at my MIL's wake and funeral mass that I began to realize that you Catholics were on to something, that death wasn't some sort of bleak ending point but where the Church gets together and goes to work praying for our dearly departed brothers and sisters in Christ.

Now that I'm Catholic I've discovered that Christian death is an integral part to the life of the Church. "Hatch, match and dispatch", as my pastor likes to say. I've attended and served many funerals in my short life as a Catholic. Whenever one our own passes, while I might be sad, I don't despair over their eternal destiny. We have many good reasons to believe that they are on their way to their heavenly home.

When non-believers die, not so much.

Just before I was confirmed I was playing in an Ultimate Frisbee league. An old friend was also playing. I had known this kid since he was in high school, he was a number of years younger than me, but we had played a lot of Ultimate together. He hadn't been around for awhile, so it was good to see him. His team beat mine. I congratulated him afterward.

Shortly after that, while waiting for the next game, I saw what looked like a homeless man, blue and laying on the ground. Some of the Ultimate players who were doctors where tending to him. I noticed it was my friend. I started praying Hail Mary's. He passed away on the field in front of me. As my doctor friend put it, 'his heart had an electrical meltdown'.

A few of us gentlemen had some prior insights into my friends lifestyle. Someone had obtained his house keys so we headed over to his house to clean things up before his parents got there and ti take care of his dog. It was a good thing we did. We spent the better part of a day cleaning the place out.

His parents gave him a Christian funeral.

I was talking to a Messianic friend of mine about what happened. I told her the condition we found his home in after his passing. She just looked at me and said flatly, "I'm sorry Tad, your friend is in hell".

I found that unacceptable. I was praying for his soul at the hour of his death.

My Uncle passed away last Friday. He and my Aunt took me in while I was in college. It was there where I learned what a stable, traditional marriage can look like. He was a great guy, incredibly intelligent, a faithful husband and father and a birder. From all outward appearances he led an exemplary Christian life with one exception, he was an atheist.

Of course, I credit his goodness to the solid Methodist upbringing my grandparents gave him, but I have to reconcile this with the protestant tradition that one has to confess Jesus as Lord with their lips in order to be saved. It just seems so bleak to me.

I'm the only Catholic among the seven cousins on this side of the family and I believe only one practices their old-time religion. I'm still finding myself going into Catholic mode, praying for the repose of the soul of my Uncle. It feels strange that I have to go it all alone. There will be no funeral and there will be no memorial. I'm left here remembering all those things that my Uncle did for me and what he means to me as a person, but as far as my faith goes, sometimes it's a lonely road.

On All Soul's Day I went to a prayer service at my parish to pray and to light a candle for my uncle. It didn't make me feel much better, most of the prayers and scripture readings spoke about those who had a hope in Christ. I was desperate for some sort of indication that it's possible to hope for the salvation of someone like my Uncle George. It just wasn't there. I then despaired at the failure of the Church and of myself to make Christianity look irresistible to the non-believer. I wondered if my faith was enough to catch an unbelieving family member. I wondered if my Uncle George was thankful for my praying for him, just as I was thankful for what he had done for me. I just couldn't tell.

Then, the past two Sundays these words popped out at me during the Eucharistic prayers for the dearly departed, "...whose faith is only known to God".

@mark kennedy posted this verse in another thread about the primacy of conscience. It's been a great help to me.

For when the Gentiles who do not have the law by nature observe the prescriptions of the law, they are a law for themselves even though they do not have the law. They show that the demands of the law are written in their hearts while their conscience also bears witness and their conflicting thoughts accuse or even defend them. (Romans 2:14-15)

If you're reading this Mark, thank you very much for that.

anjelica said:

Thankyou Tad. I am in the same position with my mom. She is not Catholic, nor of any faith. I struggle as she is 93, has emphysema, and may well die soon. I too feel utterly desolate when I hear the words in Church, and wonder what would be said about my mom and her fate. I will be praying fervently at her death bed. I will be the only one there. None of my family is Christian. I am dreading being there at her death bed, and would like a priest to be there. But I doubt that this would happen. I thought exactly the same thoughts as you on All Souls Day Tad. God bless you

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Thank you for your words, Anjelica. As you know, the hardest part isn't my own loss but the bewilderment of wondering about the status of my uncle's salvation. I'm trying to trust in God's mercy. I know he spent his last years slowly losing his amazing mind and I wonder if it's not during that time that he became reconciled with God. He was such a good man, and modern western Christianity is so goofy, I can't blame him, or anyone else, for not believing.

It's a tough one. Many prayers for you and your mother. God bless you. It's good to 'see' you again.