Hope Full of Immortality

Happy 2013 everyone! I'm glad to be back and writing again. and before I get to saying anything else, please take a second to check out my friend Joe's new blog at Jeremiah 29:11. Joe is a great writer and very well read, and his posts always give you something to think about.

I want to reflect briefly on eternal life, as it has been brought to my attention several times this past year and I have thus had to read and pray and think about it quite a bit. I have experienced the death of a loved like many other people, but my experiences in 2012 have caused me to think differently about death, especially in light of my faith. Not all of the deceased were close to me, or even all people I knew, but there was something about each person that touched me differently and turned my thoughts toward the eternal life preached by the Catholic Church.

First was my friend Quinn, about whom I have previously written, who passed in June of cancer. I won't retell his story because I have nothing to add to what I've already said, but one of the blessings hidden in his death was my realization of why death, though sad, is not the worst thing that can happen to a person in the Christian worldview. As I was driving to his funeral, my thoughts turned to where he was at that moment and I realized that I did not have very much to be sad about in the long run. If Quinn had made it to Purgatory (as I'm assuming he had) then I could hope to see him again one day in Heaven. Our several atheist mutual friends couldn't say the same, and that caused me to feel more sadness for them because this would be the last time they believed they would ever see Quinn. On that day, I discovered what a beautiful gift faith is because it allowed me to believe that I could be reunited with Quinn one day.

That and the next few losses, the parents of friends from middle school and high school and a mentor to several of my friends now, caused me to think much more about judgement, particular and general, and the role of the living in affecting that judgement for themselves and others. The only commonality between these three was that I had been asked to pray for their souls, and in so doing began to think about why I was doing it. Was my prayer important? If so, why? What did I expect to come of praying for these people? I assumed that my prayer might carry some small import, or else I wouldn't have been asked to pray at all, and that it was important because if I really believed what I professed, they would do some good in helping these people get to Heaven (I do my best to assume that most people whose deaths I hear of make it to Purgatory). Following those assertions, I expected my prayers to benefit those souls and help them attain the everlasting joy of union with God.

The final loss of 2012 occurred earlier, but I only learned of it after Christmas. That one was the most painful and caused me to see that some losses wound a person very deeply even without their knowledge and even after many years have passed. When I asked my spiritual director for guidance regarding the situation, he told me to learn as much as I could about Heaven, what it's like and what the Church teaches about it. Shortly thereafter I read everything the Catechism says about eternal life, and I realized that the most I could do was make peace with the situation as best I can and pray. I have to rely on God now to do what He sees fit, and just keep praying for everyone involved.

As ever, Mary and the saints have been an invaluable help, as have the support of numerous friends. I suppose that 2012 was the year I learned how to grieve, but I don't think of that as a bad thing. As my father very bluntly stated about death recently, "It only becomes more familiar the older you get." I think it's good that I've learned what I have about death and eternal life this past year, especially that prayer is probably the best thing you can do when you are about to lose or have lost someone close to you or close to someone you love. I hope not to have a year like that for a long while yet, but I appreciate having had the experiences I did.