EDITORIAL: The Church has a lot to say about a subject that many of us may not want to think about. That’s the premise of the Register’s first-ever ‘Death Issue.’
For those of us living in the Northern Hemisphere, November is an especially fitting time to remember our departed loved ones and reflect on our own mortality.
Nature does its part. The leaves tumble, the shadows lengthen, the temperature dips, gradually moving from sweater weather to knit-cap cold. Yet there’s also a golden beauty to November. It clears the mind and tugs at the heart to ponder deeper things.
Things like death.
The Catholic Church does its part, too. In addition to the back-to-back Solemnities of All Saints and All Souls to begin the month, the Church’s Scripture readings in November, in preparation for Advent, direct our attention to the “four last things”: death, judgment, heaven and hell.
Suffice it to say, then, this seemed like the perfect time for the Register to launch its first-ever “Death Issue,” featuring an eclectic mix of content on that theme available both online and in our Nov. 16 print edition.
If a “Death Issue” sounds dreadfully morose to you, well, good, that means we were right in thinking that we probably all could use a refresher on the Catholic view of death — because it’s anything but dark.
Indeed, it’s the Good News: By his death and resurrection, Jesus Christ has conquered death so that, through faith in him, we might live with him forever in heaven.
Pope Leo XIV reiterated this life-giving message on All Souls’ Day. “The Lord awaits us,” the Holy Father said, “and when we finally meet him at the end of our earthly journey, we shall rejoice with him and with our loved ones who have gone before us.”
“May this promise,” the Pope added, “sustain us, dry our tears, and raise our gaze upwards toward the hope for the future that never fades.”
Is it possible that Catholics today have lost sight of this core tenet of our faith? A sign that this is the case is that funeral Masses are falling out of fashion. The Church provides funeral rites for all the faithful, and Catholics are strongly encouraged to have them, though a funeral Mass is only highly encouraged, not mandated. (A proper Catholic funeral without a Mass, be it in a church or at a cemetery, must include a vigil, a liturgy and a committal rite.) Over the past 25 years, the U.S. Catholic population has risen by more than 9%. But the reported number of Catholic funerals (funeral Masses, funeral services and burials combined) has dropped 30%. Graveside prayer services and “celebration of life” parties are filling the void.
To be sure, too many funeral Masses these days are muddled affairs, with their well-meaning but imprudent pronouncements, sometimes by the priest himself, that the deceased is already in heaven and, therefore, one assumes, no longer in need of God’s mercy or our prayers. This is a grievous distortion of Catholic teaching — and at the worst time possible, too, with souls hanging in the balance.
The truth is that death is one of the things the Catholic Church does best. As the late fashion model Anita Colby, who was Catholic, once quipped: “Catholicism is the toughest religion to live by, but the greatest one to die by.”
There is a genius to its funeral rites, which anticipate the very human needs of both the deceased and those they leave behind.
They provide a time and a place to grieve. They give people the chance to give and receive physical comfort and other tangible expressions of support. They acknowledge the dignity of the person who has died. And they provide closure. Above all, they offer prayers for those facing judgment and grace to those who mourn.
The line, “We’re all gonna die!” is a staple of horror and disaster flicks. It’s left to the cool-headed hero to shake some sense into the person who’s going hysterical. “Listen to me!” they’ll often say. “I need you to focus.”
In a sense, that’s what our Church does this time of year. Yes, it’s true, we’re reminded, we really are all going to die. But death is not the end; no, far from it, it’s only the beginning.
