The Narrow House

Seeing death through the eyes of faith as the narrow door

11/2/2017

Psalm 23:1-3A, 3B-4, 5, 6 R. (1) The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want. The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. In verdant pastures he gives me repose; beside restful waters he leads me; he refreshes my soul. He guides me in right paths for his name's sake. Even though I walk in the dark valley I fear no evil; for you are at my side with your rod and your staff that give me courage. You spread the table before me in the sight of my foes; You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Only goodness and kindness follow me all the days of my life; and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD for years to come.

       I’ve been suffering a morbid curiosity lately. I’ve wondered when people start thinking seriously about death. Is it at 40 years old, when people decorate your birthday cake with black frosting, and say you’re “over the hill,” that is, now you’re headed “downhill” to death? Or is it at 50, when doctor visits become more “invasive” and you become more “evasive”? 50 is, after all, the new 40. Or when you contract cancer and the doctor says you only have six months to live?  Is that when you finally think about death?

       If you are William Cullen Bryant, the 19th century American poet, you began thinking seriously about death at the age of 17. In 1811, he wrote arguably his most famous poem called “Thanatopsis,” which means “meditation on death.” Bryant tries to comfort those who look at a coffin as “the narrow house,” by writing: “Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, / Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed / By an unfaltering trust, approach they grave / Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch / About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.” In other words, Bryant invites his reader to learn from Mother Nature and see how all things come to an end, like sleep at the end of a long hard day, and welcome death like “lying down to pleasant dreams.”

        Every November 2nd we celebrate the Commemoration of All Souls, and Mother Church, like Mother Nature, teaches us how to look at death and prepare for it. But there is a huge difference. Mother Church shows us how to look at death not through the eyes of a poet, but through the eyes of a prophet, that is, with the eyes of faith. Through faith we see death not as a “narrow house” but as the “narrow door” that opens to the Father’s house.

       Today’s Responsorial Psalm, the remarkable Psalm 23, frequently recited at funerals, begins by learning from Mother Nature. We read: “In verdant pastures he gives me repose; besides restful waters he leads me; he refreshes my soul.” But the sage psalm concludes by learning from Mother Church what faith promises, namely, “And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for years to come.” That is, death is not the narrow house at the end of life, but the narrow door leading to eternal life. Or to change the metaphor, death is not the “period” at the end of the sentence of life, but only a “comma,” a “pause” before continuing with the rest of life.

     

        Back to my original morbid curiosity: when should we start thinking seriously about death? The Church would answer we should think about death every year, that is, on the Commemoration of All Souls, but also as the whole calendar of the Church year comes to a close before Advent. The whole liturgical year ends at the end of November.  I see three particular benefits of meditating on death. First, death helps you live life a little more soberly and seriously, because you know it will end. The joy and happiness that God has sown into creation can be intoxicating, and like Noah who beheld the rainbow after the flood, we too can get drunk on life. But death is the ultimate “buzz kill” for those who want to party too much on life.

       Second, death teaches us to hold on to the good of creation with a loose grip, that is, knowing we must eventually let go of all people, places and things. We can be like small children who refuse to go to sleep at bedtime but rather want to keep playing with our toys. Mother Church, like many moms and dads, tries to teach us, “It’s time to go to bed, honey.” And thirdly, death reminds us the day of reckoning will come, the Day of Judgment, when we must settle accounts with the Lord, and show the Lord how we used the talents he gave us temporarily. Russ Limbaugh, the conservative commentator, says he has “talents on loan from God.” And that’s absolutely true. The hard part is when Rush will have to return those talents to God. That will be the hard part for all of us.

        My friends, I hope my morbid curiosity has not been too depressing. My point was only to show that Bryant’s “narrow house” is in reality, the Blesseds’ “narrow door,” and that door ultimately leads to the Father’s House.

Praised be Jesus Christ!