It was still
a familiar mom-saying when I was young, even though my mom never said it
to me, and it was probably a little outdated even then: Make sure you’re wearing clean underwear, in case you are in an
accident! Perhaps nowadays that admonition
when young people leave the house has been bumped down the list by, don’t text and drive! I think that the focus has shifted from accident-preparedness
to accident-avoidance.
I am not sure
why there was such concern about underwear in an accident anyway; I think it
had something to do with being presentable or respectable in the eyes of the
eventual doctor, or paramedic. But it
did bring to mind a certain unpleasant reality many prefer to avoid: that this outing may not end as expected, sashaying
home safe and sound.
Every time we
set out, we assume that our day could include some surprises, but its end will
be the same: we will go to bed, then have tomorrow. This assumption may be necessary for us to
function, but it is also necessarily false.
We all know that one day will be our last.
Perhaps we assume
the day will come to us as it recently did for Michael, a long-time parishioner. Eighty-six years old, ten years widowed, and
still in his own home, he fell and broke a hip, needed surgery, and was placed
in Intensive Care to achieve sufficient function in his internal organs to
withstand the surgery. The organs
continued to fail instead, and after more than a week to receive the sacraments
and visit with his family, he died surrounded by love: a full life, followed by
a peaceful and prepared-for death.
But we know
that is not the only option. Heart attacks and strokes come to people who
are “too young”; accidents happen even in the home; and lethal violence
manifests in nature as well as human nature.
A bizarre bug bite or a tiny bit of food lodged in the throat can bring
the same result as a raging tornado or runaway dump truck. Systems fail; weather happens; people don’t
pay attention; we get sick. We know
this, but assume it won’t happen to us.
Perhaps the
concern for clean underwear for the undertaker is a relic of a time when people
dressed out of concern for what other people might think. Certainly, the concern for dressing well for
Mass has yielded to an assertion that God does not care about one’s clothes,
but rather what is inside. And while I
cannot endorse disregard for one’s church-going wardrobe, it is precisely what
is inside that God cares about, and so should we.
The state of
our souls at the moment of death has everlasting consequences. Since we cannot predict the moment of our
death, we must attend to the state of our souls. We Catholics are blessed to have not only a
clear identification of the sins that can harm us, but also the tools we need
to reverse that harm by the medicinal application of sacramental mercy.
Whether a
terrorist shooter or a text-messaging driver, the menaces that lurk between us
and our tomorrows can spoil all our plans, including those to go to confession
“eventually”, or even to return to the life of the sacraments “soon”. Some Day Soon will certainly come, but it may
not find us here to greet it.
The Boy
Scouts know to Be Prepared, but
Catholics realize that this includes being prepared for death. I cannot exhort you emphatically enough to
flee from the sin that kills and seek often the forgiveness that saves, though
at the same time nobody I know would suggest you neglect your underwear.
Monsignor
Smith
