WHY SHOULD WE TALK OF DEATH

Papin Puntari, 3rd of November 2000 Veli-Matti Hynninen

What would you do differently if you could start anew?

A monk was asked this question and his immediate answer was: I would relax and live my life differently in every way. He would take more humorous and relaxed attitude with life. My question is: why do we bind our lives so tightly, that only when it is too late we realise how mundane and unimportant overly serious attitude is. Go figure.

Maybe we would like to loosen up and confront our life with more relaxed attitude, but for some reason life is not all play for us. We are nervous, afraid, anxious and alienated.

Once a hospital priest asked the same question from patients diagnosed with cancer. They were on their last days, on the threshold of the ever after, close to salvation. ”Which moment of your life would you want to relive, if you could?” The priest asked. Curiously, none talked of their greatest achievements, triumphs or other high points, but concentrated on little everyday events. One recalled a car trip to grandmother’s house with mother and father. Grandmother waiting at the doorstep, a warm hug, the smell of freshly baked buns in the air. Joy of seeing her again. Feeling completely and unconditionally accepted. The fact that she had been waiting for the visitors evident from everything. She had baked, cleaned the house, the visitors felt more than welcome.

Another, a mother, would like to relive the day when she came home from the work, dead tired, heavy shopping bags in her hands, and right the minute when she put the bags down her children rushed to her, glowing of happiness. ”Mother, wonderful that you came home! We missed you so much!”

The patients wanted to relive the moments when they felt accepted, needed and important. It seems that the most profound feeling is to feel important for someone else, to be missed, to be so special for somebody that your mere presence makes that sombody happy. It has been said that the worst kind of loneliness is to feel that no one misses you, that no one is interested in your life.

The Allhallows we are now celebrating reminds us of a great secret life, that our loved ones who have passed away will be waiting for us. How is that possible? This sacred secret contains a vision of the invisible Kingdom of Heaven. The secret is that there may be a second world in addition to this visible, material and rational world. A misty, mystical, invisible world.

These worlds and ideas belong together. Both are real, even though we don’t know much about the second one, we can only get small glimpses of it.

Allhallows is a day of hope greater than reality. ”Hallow” or holy means the same as God’s own. Allhallows is linked to the day of all that is holy (Festum omnium sanctorum) that was celebrated on the first of November, but another day has also been incorporated into the holiday: the day of all the faithful dead (Commemoratio omnium fidelium defunctorum) that used to be celebrated on the second of November. Therefore Allhallows is the holiday for all people who are God’s own. Both the people who have already reached the heavenly home and those who still struggle in the mortal world celebrate together. God is not the god of the dead or the living, he is the god of all of us. For Him we all are alive.

A long time ago I had an urn made for me from cherry tree. I keep it in a chapel of the church. Every time I bless a deceased there, I see the urn. It reminds me of two things. First, we should be able to talk of death. And secondly, considering your own mortality gives you a new perspective on life. For me it has given the courage to live life to its fullest, here and now. High spirits give new taste to life: as long as there is passion, there is hope.

A candle is burning on the threshold we all will cross one day. That threshold fascinates us, because we can guess that it hides the greatest secret of life.