Preparation for Death and Judgment

I. PREPARATION FOR DEATH

The most important day of our life will be the day we die, for then we will personally meet our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and receive our just reward for all the good and all the bad that we have done throughout our lifetime. The importance, then, of preparing ourselves well for this day cannot be overestimated. For as Thomas á Kempis wrote in Imitation of Christ: "Time is precious now and now is the day of salvation, that is, the acceptable time to begin our preparations. Because the time will come when we will wish that we had one more day–even one more hour–to put our life in order, but there is no assurance that we will get it."

But "how tempting, how deceptively easy it is to put off thinking of our own death. Our days are full; life is distracting; at all times there are so many other lighter, lesser thoughts to think about. So just as much as we bury the dead so do we bury the thought of our own personal death. We find ourselves reading obituaries, attending wakes, going to funerals of people of our own generation; yet somehow we can avoid the thought of our own dying. How true is the saying, ‘we can look neither at the sun nor at death steadily.’ Yet we know that this interstate highway of life, down which we are traveling at full speed, ends at a cliff over one of the hills just ahead. Our imagination, however, in many cases, has erected a large paper sign across the road in front of the cliff. And that paper sign may picture the road as continuing on and winding away to infinity, but we will eventually and inevitably crash through the paper and will go down the cliff…one day."

For this reason, St. Francis de Sales stresses that "we must fear death without dreading it. That is, we must have a quiet, hopeful fear. For God has given us many helps to enable us to die a holy death. And so, do not ask God for death; and do not refuse death when it comes." This attitude was well expressed in the life and death of St. Martin of Tours. It was said of this great saint: "Death could not defeat him nor toil dismay him. He was quite without a preference of his own: he neither feared to die nor refused to live."

A very practical thought, therefore, is that we should see our bed as the symbol of the tomb and see sleep as representing death. For "one day we will be laid in a grave and become dust and ashes. We who sleep tonight do not know whether we will be living tomorrow. Thoughts like these are good, not morbid, because they will enable us to spend each day as if it was to be our last."

"Acting with a view to death, then, means doing now what we will have wanted to do before dying, and rejecting or avoiding now what we will have wanted to avoid." In other words, "we should pretend that our last hour is fast approaching and ask our conscience: ‘what will I wish to have done in my lifetime?’" Our answer, of course, must be that I want to be a saint. For Anton Peguy, a French journalist earlier in the twentieth century, said that the greatest tragedy is to have died and not become a saint. For no matter what we may have accomplished in life, then, no matter how important or powerful or rich or influential or famous we may have become; we will be miserable failures, if we die and go to hell. In the same manner, as Christ himself put it so plainly and forcefully: "What does it profit a man if he should win the whole world, but lose his soul in the process" (Mt 16:26).

And so we should "always act and speak, as St. James tells us, "as men destined for judgment under the law of freedom" (Js 2:12). And also, as the Book of Sirach tells us, we should always "Remember our last end. For then we will not sin" (Sir 3:8).

The Imitation of Christ nicely sums up the attitude and approach we should take towards death: "How happy and wise is the man who tries now to become what he would want to be at the hour of death. A perfect contempt of the world, an ardent desire to progress in virtue, a love of discipline, a prompt obedience, a denial of self and patient bearing of all sufferings for the love of Christ will give us great confidence of dying happily"

But this raises the question: Why is death so painful? Death is painful because the soul is separated from the body. For body and soul were created for each other, and so close is their union that a parting between them, for many people, seems almost impossible.

"The last word, then, when all is heard," should be, as the Book of Sirach tells us: "Fear God and keep his commandments. Because God will bring to judgment every work, with all its hidden qualities, whether good or bad" (Sir 12:14). And so we should always be prepared to die. For "the day of the Lord will come upon us," as St. Paul warns, "like a thief in the night. And just when people are saying ‘peace and security,’ sudden disaster will come upon them, like the labor pains of a woman, and they will not escape" (1 Thess 5:3).

II. JUDGMENT

Now, when we die, we will be judged by Christ. "It is appointed for all men to die once, and after this, the judgment" (Heb 9:27). There is no reincarnation, as tragically almost one-quarter of Americans now believe. We get only one life to live, and so we must make the best of it and love the Lord with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength and love our neighbor as ourselves. For we will be rewarded and punished according to how we have used the talents entrusted to us.

Interestingly, as St. Alphonsus Liguori teaches, "it is the common opinion of theologians, that, at the very moment and in the very place in which the soul departs from the body, …judgment by Christ takes place." And so we can say that "in the very room where we die, the judgment will take place… There the judgment-seat will be erected," and there we will meet Christ, the just and merciful Judge. As the Catechism instructs, "each man receives his eternal retribution in his immortal soul at the very moment of his death, in a particular judgment that refers his life to Christ: either entrance immediately into the blessedness of heaven–or entrance through a purification in purgatory–or immediate an everlasting damnation." Nevertheless, if we have lived a good life, we have nothing to fear. For the Church, as we can learn from the Funeral Liturgy, holds out for us the hope of the presence of Mary, the angels, and all the saints at this most decisive moment of our lives.

Now we ourselves at the judgment will be fully enlightened about the consequences of all our good and bad deeds. Besides this, we will see, in an instant, all that we have thought, desired, said, and done in our lifetime. In other words, our whole life will pass before our eyes. "For all the truth about us will be brought out in the law court of Christ," as St. Paul tells us in Second Corinthians, "and each of us will get what he deserves from the things he did in the body, good or bad" (2 Cor 5:9-10).

Other "biblical evidence for the particular judgment after death is mainly indirect." For example, "Christ represents Lazarus and the rich man as receiving their respective reward and punishment immediately after death. And to the penitent thief on Calvary, Jesus promised that his soul instantly on leaving the body, would be in the state of heaven. ‘This day, you will be with me in Paradise,’ he said (Lk 23:43)."

And so it is helpful if we are aware that in every act we do, there are essentially six factors to consider. "First, the intention with which it is done; second, the state of the soul, that is, whether it is in the state of grace or not during the action; third, the degree of knowledge and awareness that precedes the action; fourth, the greater or lesser degree of intensity in the will’s consent; fifth, the value of the work in itself–that is, whether it be more or less good or bad; and sixth, the manner in which the action is performed." All these different elements, then, will be instantly weighed and sifted by Christ at the judgment that follows our death. So it is our actions, therefore, that we have done in our body in this life that will determine whether we merit heaven, hell, or a short or long stay in purgatory.

Judgment, then, before the face of Christ is bound to come sooner or later for all of us. For those who loved and served God in this life "it will be a moment of indescribable joy…the long-awaited embrace of a friend with a friend…the meeting of a son with a much-loved father whom he has yearned to see." But for sinners, on the other hand, "it will be a terrible encounter with an angry Christ."

Death, therefore, may be a pleasant experience or a terrifying nightmare.

III. DEATH AS A TIME OF TERROR

There are four reasons why death can become a time of terror. First, death can become a terrifying experience because of the assaults of Satan. The Catechism of the Council of Trent teaches that "at no time is the devil’s attack more intense than at the moment of our approaching death." St. Augustine says the "devil will accuse us before our face with all that we have done, and will state the day and the hour in which we sinned." And St. Gregory the Great says, "Consider well how terrible is the hour of death, and how appalling the remembrance of our sins will be at that time. For the devils will recall all the harm they have done to us, and remind us of the sins which we have committed at their instigation."

The devils, then, "will tempt their unhappy victim at the moment of death on various points but especially in regard to the sins into which they have most frequently fallen. If during their lifetime, they have cherished hatred towards anyone, they conjure up before their dying eyes the image of that person, rehearsing what they did, in order to stir up the flame of hate towards that enemy, or kindle it again. Or if any one has committed sins against purity, they will show the accomplice of the sin, and strive to awaken passionate feelings. If any one has been troubled with scruples concerning faith, the devils recall to mind the article of belief which they had difficulty in accepting. If someone has a tendency to timidity, the devils encourage it, so that they may rob the person of his hope of salvation. The man who has sinned through pride, and boasted of his good works, they seek to trap by flattery, assuring him that he stands high in the favor of God, and all he has done cannot fail to secure him a place in heaven. Again, if in his lifetime a man has given into impatience, allowing himself to be angry and irritated by little things, they make his illness appear so burdensome that he will rebel against God for having sent it to him… Finally, they tempt those who have led a godless life, and have repeatedly fallen into mortal sin, to despair, by representing their sins to be so great as to be past forgiveness. In short, then, the devils attack us at the moment of death most fiercely at our most vulnerable point, just as a skillful general will storm a fortress on the side where he perceives the walls to be the weakest.

But the devils do not always confine themselves to tempting us in regard to our chief weaknesses… For if they fail in one way, they attempt to succeed in another. And these temptations are of no ordinary type. Sometimes they are so violent that it is impossible for us to resist them without supernatural help." However, we must always bear in mind, as St. Paul has revealed to us, that "God is faithful and will not let us be tempted beyond our strength; but with the temptation he will also provide a way out, so that we may be able to bear it" (1 Cor 10:13).

The devils, then, attack the dying so ferociously because they know that this is their last chance to steal a soul from Christ. And so they pull out all stops and use every thing they have in their bag of tricks. They attack us like a roaring lion for they know that their "time is short" (Rev 12:12).

The second reason why death can become a time of terror is because of the fear of hell. The dying come to realize for the first time in their life that they may be lost forever and will have to suffer excruciating, agonizing pain for all eternity. And this thought fills the soul with terror.

The third reason for fear is because of our sins. The dying person will feel surrounded and suffocated by the sins of his past life. And these sins, explains St. Bernard, "like so many satellites, will keep him in chains, and will say to him: ‘We are your works; we will not desert you. We are your offspring; we will not leave you; we will accompany you to the next world and will present ourselves with you to Christ.’"

It is true, of course, as St. Alphonsus Liguori points out, that whenever the sinner is converted, God will pardon him. But God has not promised, it must be stressed, that hardened sinners will be converted at death. On the contrary, he has often protested that they who live in sin will die in sin. "You will die in your sins," as Jesus tells us (Jn 8:21-24). And St. Jerome teaches, that of a 100,000 sinners who continue until death, scarcely one will be saved. And St. Vincent Ferrer writes that "it is greater miracle to bring such sinners to salvation, than it is to raise the dead to life."

"Make no mistake about it," then, as St. Paul tells us, "God is not mocked. For a person will reap only what he sows. And he that sows in the flesh will reap a harvest of corruption" (Gal 6:7). And so because of this, we must work out our salvation in "fear and trembling" (Phil 2:12).

The fourth and final reason why death can become a time of terror is because of the fear of facing Christ, the Just Judge. "How great is the pain of a child before an angry parent," as St. Alphonsus points out. But "how much greater," he writes, "will be the pain and confusion of the soul when, it beholds Jesus Christ enraged against it for the insults which it offered to him during life." And so because of this St. Bernard says that "the soul of a condemned sinner will suffer more in seeing the anger of Jesus Christ than in seeing hell itself."

There is a revealing passage in the Book of Revelation that helps to give us some idea of the fearsome appearance of Christ, the Just Judge. We read, "The kings of the earth, the nobles, the military officers, the rich, the powerful, and every slave and free person hid themselves in caves and among mountain crags. They cried out to the mountains and the rocks, ‘fall on us and hide us from the face of the one who sits on the throne and from the wrath of the lamb, because the great day of his wrath has come and who can withstand it?’" (Rev 7:15-17).

The "lamb," of course, is Christ and St. John tells us what he looked like in his vision. "The hair of his head was as white as white wool or as snow, and his eyes were like a fiery flame. His feet were like polished brass refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing water. In his right hand he held seven stars. And a sharp two-edged sword came out of his mouth, and his face shone like the sun at its brightest" (Rev 1:14-16).

The appearance of Christ was so overwhelmingly awesome and powerful that St. John tells us that he "fell down at his feet as though dead" (Rev 1:17). If this is the case with a great saint and apostle, just think how terrified people who die in the state of mortal sin will feel when they have to face the penetrating eyes of Christ alone and "look upon the one whom they have pierced" with their sins.

"Where will sinners flee, then," asks St. Augustine, "when they see an angry judge above, hell open below; on the one side their own sins accusing them, and on the other side devils dragging the damned to punishment, and their own conscience burning within them?"

Cardinal Newman has written a description of what takes place, as he imagines it, when a sinner is condemned to hell by Christ the Just Judge. It is well worth quoting at length because it sums up all the causes that can make judgment so terrifying:

Oh what a moment for the poor soul, when it comes to itself, and finds itself suddenly before the judgment seat of Christ! Oh what a moment, when, breathless from the journey and dizzy from the brightness and overwhelmed from the strangeness of what is happening to him and unable to realize where he is, the sinner hears the voice of the accusing spirit, bringing up all the sins of his past life, sins which he has forgotten, or which he has explained away; sins which he would not allow to be sins, though he suspected that they were… But oh, how still more terrible when the judge speaks and consigns it to the jailers, till it will pay the endless debt that lies against it. And the poor soul struggles and wrestles in the grasp of the mighty demon which has hold of it, and whose touch is torment. "Oh, atrocious!" it shrieks in agony, and in anger too, as if the very keenness of the affliction were a proof of its injustice."

All of this "terror," however, from these four sources must be balanced against the unfathomable and infinite mercy of God. As Fr. Corapi once taught in one of his catechism classes, "If you could somehow condense all the sins of the whole world from the beginning of time to the present, this tremendous bundle of sins would be but like a drop of water in the ocean of God’s mercy."

St. Faustina, especially with her Divine Mercy revelations, has brought this point home. For Christ Himself once commanded her to write these remarkable words for distressed sinners. "When a soul sees and realizes the gravity of its sins, when the whole abyss of the misery into which it immersed itself is displayed before its eyes, let it not despair, but with trust let it throw itself into the arms of my mercy, as a child into the arms of its beloved mother. These souls have a right of priority to my compassionate heart, they have first access to my mercy. Tell them that no soul that has called upon my mercy has been disappointed or brought to shame. I delight particularly in a soul which has placed its trust in my goodness."

And particularly worthy of note is the great gift of the Divine Mercy Chaplet. For Christ stated to St. Faustina that "at the hour of their death, I defend as my own every soul that says the Chaplet–or when others say it, the indulgence is the same. For when this prayer is said by the bedside of a dying person, God’s anger is appeased, unfathomable mercy envelopes the soul, and the very depths of my tender mercy are moved."

IV. DEATH AS PLEASANT EXPERIENCE

"The souls of the just are in the hand of God," the Book of Wisdom tells us, and so "the torment of death shall not touch them. For in the sight of the unwise they seemed to die…but now they are in peace" (Wis 3:1). These comforting words from the Book of Wisdom prove to us, says St. Alphonsus, that "God knows well how to console his children in their last moments; and even in the midst of the pains of death he infuses into their souls certain consolations that are a foretaste of heaven." And so just as "those who die in sin begin to experience on the bed of death certain foretastes of hell, certain remorses, terrors, and bits of despair;" so, too, do those who are in the state of grace begin to feel that peace which surpasses understanding, that is, the peace of Christ.

To the saints, then, and other holy persons, death is not a punishment, but a door which they willingly pass through in order to gain life and share in all God’s mysteries. For "Jesus is all wise. He knows all our holy desires, our efforts, and the love in our hearts, even when we do not succeed." And so this is why St. Francis of Assisi began to sing when he was about to die, and also why St. Teresa of Avila said to the sisters who were crying at her death bed: "Why do you weep? I am going to enjoy my Jesus. If you love me, rejoice with me."

We should be aware, then, that sin alone is the cause of a bad death, as original sin is the cause of every death. "It is clear," therefore, as St. Ambrose points out, "that it is not death that is bitter, but rather sin." And so if we want to avoid the fear of death we should lead a holy life.

We have nothing to fear from death, then, if we lead a holy life. We will be able to cry out with St. Paul, "O death where is your victory? O death where is your sting?" For St. Colombiere, the spiritual director of St. Margaret Mary, held that "it was morally impossible that the person who has been faithful to God during life should die a bad death." And before him, St. Augustine said, "He who has lived well cannot die badly. He who is prepared to die fears no death, however sudden." And this is because, as Origen notes, "God desires our salvation more than the devil desires our damnation." In other words, "The Lord loves our souls far more than the devil hates them." This should lead us to say with thanksgiving, "The Lord is my light and my salvation; who shall I fear?" (Ps 27:11).

Now a practice that cannot be too highly recommended is the patient acceptance of death when it is sent to us by God. For St. Alphonsus says, "that they who offer their death to God, make the most perfect act of divine love which it is in their power to make; because, by cheerfully embracing the kind of death which God is pleased to send, and at the time and in the manner in which God sends it, we make ourselves like the holy martyrs."

Further, we should be aware, as Cardinal Newman points out, that God "can condense into an hour a life of trial. For he who created generations by the breath of his mouth...can in one keen pang of agony punish a sinner, or by one temptation justify it, or by one vision glorify it."

V. THE UNCERTAINTY OF DEATH

"When St. Francis Borgia saw the corpse of Queen Isabella, who had been called the most stunningly beautiful woman of her day, he paused to contemplate the horrible sight the open coffin presented. He and the other nobles were on hand to testify that it was really the body of the Queen, which they were about to bury. When the casket was opened, so terrible was the spectacle of the rotting body, that all fled–but St. Francis. He alone remained and meditated long on that once beautiful face now decaying…then and there he resolved to give himself to God alone."

We, too, like St. Francis should adjust our accounts before the day of reckoning. "Let us seek God, now that we can find him; for the time will come when we wish to, but will not be able to find him." For before judgment, says St. Augustine, "the judge can be appeased, but not in judgment."

Now the "worst aspect of the uncertainty of death is that we are not sure how we will die. For even if death is preceded by sickness, we cannot be sure that those who take care of us will tell us the time of death’s approach. Also, we do not know whether a good priest will be on hand to give us the last rites and whether we will be calm enough to make a good examination of conscience and confess ourselves as we should. Hence, the grace of a good death is one of the most beautiful graces for which we can ask." And specifically, we should beg God for the grace to receive the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick. For an experienced Catholic priest once wrote, "In my 33 years of experience as a priest, I have never–I repeat–never–seen a good Catholic in fear of death when the moment of death actually came. I have seen many who were very apprehensive about death up until the time of receiving Anointing, but with the holy anointing apprehension disappears. To see the change that takes place in timorous hearts after receiving the anointing, is like watching a miracle."