Saint Jude

Daily prayer
to St. Jude

O kindSaint-Jude, our faithful intercessor to Jesus, receive the following special intentions : to present them to the Almighty Lord, Root of all good. Above all, grant us an increase of our faith in His love. May each day find us closer in our relationship with our Heavenly Father. KindSaint-Jude, you who has revived hope in our hearts, you whose model merits and life bring us the divine blessings and graces, be our advocate, and lead us to Jesus and Mary. With you, blessed apostle, we give thanks and praise God with all our heart for His innumerable kindnesses. Amen.

The Monthly Note

November

Death in past tense

by Jacques Sylvestre, o.p.

There are two ways of dealing with the question of our death.  One is to conceal it, to run away from it, in the manner of materialistic societies.  The other is to learn to resign ourselves and to accept it from an early age, in the manner of societies that are still spiritualized.
In our western environment, not only do the undertakers put all their means at their disposal to distort death by transfiguring the deceased person, displayed one last time for us to see; but there are those who strongly wish not to be conscious of its presence and, as we say, to suddenly pass away, on the road, in our sleep, in other words: suddenly!  Without foreseeing it, without suffering.  And then there are those who are so afraid of dying or of suffering before dying, that they come wish to hasten the end by an assistance that will achieve a «painless death».

Death in past tense: yesterday, or shall we say, in bygone days, death meant the passage from this life to the next life.  Some have tried to explain this passing as some sort of reincarnation.  The passing from one incarnation to another.  Who can really and knowingly wish to reincarnate in another mortal existence? Will the second be more pleasant than the first one?  Might be worst.
Let us be called out by this beautiful hymn (175). It tells us that were are beings bound for immortality.

The king of love my shepherd is,
Whose goodness fails never;
I nothing lack if I am his
And he is mine for ever.

Where streams of living water flow
My ransomed soul he leads,
And where the verdant pastures grow
With food celestial he feeds me.

Perverse and foolish I have strayed,
But yet in love he sought me,
And on his shoulder gently laid,
And home rejoicing brought me.

In death's dark vale I fear no ill
With you, dear Lord, beside me;
Your rod and staff my comfort still,
Your cross will ever guide me.

You spread a table in my sight;
My head with oil anointing;
And let me taste the sweet  delight
From you pure chalice flowing!

And so through all the length of days
Your goodness fails me never:
Good shepherd, may I sing thy praise
Within thy house for ever.