Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Death. It’s scary. It seems so final. What is beyond death is, generally, unknown. It is the biggest change a person goes through in life, after being conceived and born. We do everything we can to avoid death: we create new medicines; we buy creams to try to keep us looking young; we spend lots of money to fight death. And yet, death comes to us all, some as young people, some as old.
Fighting death is, in one sense, natural for us because we were not made for death. In the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve cared for the Tree of Life, which would have allowed them to live forever. But they were cast out of the garden, and banned from that tree. And, as our first reading stated, “God did not make death.” Death entered the world because when our first parents rejected God, they rejected life. St. Paul says it this way in the Letter to the Romans: “Therefore, just as through one person sin entered the world, and through sin, death, and thus death came to all, inasmuch as all sinned…” Everything in our being knows that we are made for eternal life, and yet we all have to experience death, and so we fight against it.
Death, for those who have faith in and follow Jesus should not be something that we fear so much. Yes, we still may be anxious about the unknown, and we should not do anything to speed up our own death, but we need not be afraid if we have faith.
If we are not afraid, if we have faith in Jesus, death is that which is the conclusion of our trials and testing on earth, and the beginning of our reward. The student who has studied is not afraid of the final exam, but sees it as the necessary way to move towards graduation. Our final judgment is not based on what we know, but, as St. John of the Cross states, whom we loved and how we loved. But it still can allow us to graduate, to move on, to pass over, from this Valley of Tears to the eternal banquet of the Lamb of God in heaven.
But death need not only be thought of in terms of our final breath. We experience little deaths throughout our life, and our approach to those little deaths should be no less occasions of faith in what Jesus can do. There’s the little deaths that happen in our family life: when we realize that our little baby is no longer a baby and is becoming more independent; when we lose a job; when, despite years of Catholic education and formation in the home, a child breaks our heart and stops practicing the faith. There’s also little deaths that happen in our faith life: when we lose a pastor that we love; up 75 a bit and then down 475, St. Mary in Mt. Morris announced last Tuesday that, effective immediately, the school is closed; in our own parish as we make the transition to two weekend Masses from three. All of those and more are little deaths in our lives. We can fear it, we can fight it, we can kick and scream about it, or we can be not afraid and have faith in Jesus, trusting that He who brought us to all those situations and more will carry us through it.
Because our faith and our hope is in what is beyond the death, and that’s new life. When Jesus rose from the dead He blazed a trail for us so that where He has gone, we hope to follow. And although we have never seen what is on the other side of our own death, we have seen what is on the other side of Jesus’ death, and that is new life, transfigured life, glorified life. To gain that new, transfigured, and glorified life, we need only follow Jesus and His way. As we face death, in its many forms, Jesus invites us today: “‘Do not be afraid; just have faith.’”