Friday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 387

And Israel said to Joseph, "At last I can die,

now that I have seen for myself that Joseph is still alive."

Today's first reading describes the tearful reunion of Joseph with his father Jacob. More than a thousand years later, Simeon would echo the same sentiment, "Now, Lord, you let your servant go in peace. Your word has been fulfilled."

Jacob had grieved for many years the loss of Rachel's first son, especially because Rachel was always his favorite wife. His sons had told him the boy was killed by a lion; and, to prove it, they showed him his familiar cloak of many colors saturated with (goat's) blood. When the brothers, now stricken with remorse, told the old man that Joseph was alive he didn't believe it. But after he saw Joseph's splendid gifts, "...the spirit of their father Jacob came to life." Then, he insisted, he must see the man, "My son Joseph is still alive! I must go and see him before I die.”

In the VA I meet men and women who are ready to die. They sometimes say, "I have had a good life!" Many would echo Jacob and Simeon, and say that God's promises to them have been fulfilled.

I used to hear remarks about certain groups of old people in the church; young fellows like me would call them "the happy death club." Imagine my surprise when I saw a window in Saint John Cathedral, (Lafayette, La) dedicated by "The Happy Death Society." The Bona Mors Confraternity (Wikipedia) was founded by a Jesuit priest in Rome in 1648 and  approved by the Popes Innocent X and Alexander VII. Its full title is  "Confraternity of Our Lord Jesus Christ dying on the Cross, and of the Most Blessed Virgin Mary, his sorrowful Mother,"

Happy Death Clubs appeared as incessant wars and the Industrial Revolution turned men, women, and children out of their homes and recreated them as commodities to be traded, bought and sold, They would be laborers with neither sexual identity nor intelligence; cogs in the machine, replaceable when they broke down, and expendable when they were killed on the job. Schools were converted from places of study to shops which should prepare workers to fit the systems of business and industry. They study STEM instead of the humanities (history, art, philosophy, religion.) They ask, "How can I fit in?" and not, "Why am I here?" Their entertainment is an endless cycle of spectator sports. Their religion begs for an end of suffering and promises only a happy death. Karl Marx called that religion, "the opiate of the people." -- until real opium comes along. And then they don't need religion at all.

In the VA hospital, I meet with a group of Veterans in treatment for addictions. We sometimes discuss integrity, which is attained by the process of integration. I want to discuss issues like one's personal meaning, is life worth living? and the reality of judgement. At the end of my life I hope that the long story, with its many adventures, occasional misadventures, accomplishments and failings, makes sense. I hope that the  boy who left home a month short of fourteen will recognize the old priest on his death bed and say, "Well done, old man." And he will say, "I told you there was nothing to fear!" although he often feared very much.

Integrity embraces the light and darkness of a chiaroscuro painting and sees the beauty of it. Remorse, shame, guilt and grief belong in the picture as well as the more congenial stories of family, friendship, pleasure, and accomplishment. Integrity honors the cross which every person must carry without shame, guilt or regret. Life is not supposed to be easy or free of pain; and grace is there for everyone who asks. At the end of our lives, I hope that we anticipate Resurrection as we thank God for the privilege of living.