ESCHATOLOGY -- END TIMES, STAY READY

The big Greek word in the title is one that has captivated me for a long time.  I have often spent extended periods of time on long road trips turning over various trial understandings of the reality behind this word.  I have also spent time wondering what others think about the word and the concepts that it evokes.  The simplest, general expression of its meaning can be written, as above, "end times."
Actually, that is not quite enough because after all, the word 'Eschatology" is a Theological term, not a purely secular term.  The end times that it drives the mind and heart to are the times when human life ends and all that is left is spiritual, disembodied life the likes of which will last for all eternity, or in other words, beyond time.  Our Catholic understanding of this all encompassing milestone can be boiled down to some simple terms:
Human life ends - spiritual life begins.  God takes over and decides whether the spiritual life will be one of everlasting joy or one of everlasting misery.
That's it.
The challenge for us is to trust that God and we can stay joined on the same page consistently enough so that when the end comes upon us, we will be ready and His judgment of us will fall on the happy side.  Thinking about this, and talking to God about it a lot in our lives is an important habit to have.  By talking to Him often and discussing the possibilities that our present, time measured behaviors present to us and to Him can help to deepen our trust (faith) in Him and get us ready, and keep us brave enough to stay ready until the unknown moment comes upon us.

Lately, in fact now, I am experiencing a life event that is new to me.  In 8 decades I have not yet had this experience.  It is a challenge for me, not to take away the towering challenge that it has to be for others.  On August 31, 2017, ten days ago, a new friend, a strong collaborator and a builder of success for a common project that is but one-half complete was called to judgment by our Father Creator, but not in a manner that I have ever experienced.  My newly found friend was killed in what is euphemistically called an "accident" but which legally will be defined as "manslaughter."  Yes, while sitting at a traffic signal, waiting for a light change, a drunken driver in a large vehicle travelling at close to100 MPH struck the smaller vehicle in which JoeMari was sitting.  The result was the termination of Joe's earthly life.

My life has been full of death, timely and untimely, to put it in human terms.  Eschatologically, every death is timely because it is a part of God's time.  But boy, I tell you, this one is strumming my heart strings pretty close to the "untimely" bracket.  Why?  Joe and his dear wife were preparing a choir presentation to be delivered on stage in the main public square of Bethlehem, yes, that Bethehem on the occasion of the solemn lighting of the Christmas Tree on December 2, 2017.  Don't worry, we will be there.  We have to be there so that we can see what it is that our dear Father Creator has in mind for us amid all this trauma, drama!  I'm staying ready for this one.  I gotta see the power of God at work in this one.  I know how it works, I've been there, a lot.

Here today, gone tomorrow:

Cecile. aunt.
Joseph, grandfather
Eugene, father
Melina, mother
Elna, cousin
Alcide, uncle
Donald, uncle
Harley, uncle
Tom, cousin
George, cousin
Victor, cousin

No, I didn't make this up.  Not a one by violence.  Not even the four who served in Europe and one in the pacific during WWII.  Only 8 first degree relatives slid quietly into death.  Joe's death is a new one on me.

My deep relationship with the concept of eschatology is keeping my mind whirring since this event occurred.  I have been a week and a half now wondering if eschatology can be a dynamic reality.  Is it time going toward the goal or it is the goal itself?  I know that through my life this concept has been a strong force that tends to keep me on the straight and narrow.  It has served as a sign-board of the final reality in waiting.  It has sometimes seemed to be close enough to be touched and at other times far and barely visible over the horizon.  I have personally faced death a couple of times (a .45 cal is a big, black hole, believe me) but I never feared it, and still don't.  This violent episode has driven me to a different side of myself that has me wondering about the things I have escaped.  Hmmm, like driving while plastered; like even talking my way out of the "ticket" one time when I got stopped at 2:30 AM (Springfield, MA it was...good Italian Catholic cop).  I wonder about this and other events in my life and I thank God for the energy and the Grace that He gives me to think about these things.
I have been thanking Him a lot this past week because had I been the one to cause another person's death, I am quite sure that I would have died to myself at the same time.

So, that's me. Now that you know all that, don't forget that because I didn't die to myself yet, when they finally do put me into a box, it is absolutely forbidden to cry at my funeral.

ONCE A CATHOLIC, ALWAYS A CATHOLIC

Let me start by saying that I thought the title was original.  It is not. It was first written by a British novelist named Angus Wilson, born in 1913...Same year as my father, EFR Dion.  I decided that I would not change the title, but feel obliged to give credit where credit is due.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 I was in a conversation this morning that went like this, practically word for word.  It was on the telephone and we were conducting business about other matters.  The telephone call was in response to an email that I had sent to the business man who was calling.  My email signature at the bottom is an invitation to a pilgrimage in the Holy Land.    
I will spare you the introductory comments and cut to the chase...
He: So your Catholic?
I:    Yes, I am.
He: I'm Christian. 
I:    OK
He: I was Catholic, Baptized and all.  My wife was too.  
      we're both Christian now.
I:    No, you're still Catholic.  You're Catholic forever.  All your life.
He: Really?
I:    Yes.  95% of Christians who speak to me say exactly
      what you just  said, "I was Catholic..."  
      meaning to say that you still are, otherwise you would 
      not make that comment.
He:  Really?
I:     Yes.  Really.  A Catholic is a Catholic forever.  
        (The silence was deafening.)
It was then time to return to business.  What remained unsaid was that the rest of the congregation seated in the pews around this person and his loving spouse is certainly in the range of 75 to 80% "ex" Catholics.  The reason why they are so assiduous in their church attendance is because they are still Catholic.  The true blue, 100% dyed-in-the-wool Bible only, Faith only Protestant (Yes, we are all Christian and they are Protestant) is out playing golf.  In fact there is at least a 60 to 70% probability that the preacher at the church frequented by this person is also an "ex" Catholic.
You see, dear reader, Jesus Christ doesn't let go.  His Father taught Him well.  He, God the Father, never lets go.  How many centuries has God kept His Israelite/Hebrew/Jewish people under His wing?  Frankly, brothers and sisters, at that rate, Jesus Christ is just beginning.  He has much more patience and forebearance than His people do.  Even those who escape from the Catholic Church cannot escape from the doctrinal spirituality of the Bride of Christ.  The CHURCH is a mother that never lets go.  Catholics always remember who their mother is...no matter where they wander off to.  
The person to whom I was speaking this morning is not close to me.  In fact I am still wondering whether to trust him or not.  We are working on a serious project, so I pray that all will go well.  Now that I have told him that no matter what he does, he and his spouse are Catholic forever, I wonder what he will do with that idea.

It is easy for me to say things like that to people.  I am a Catholic forever; I am baptized forever; I am confirmed forever; and I am ordained forever.  With all of those "forevers" going for me, don't you dare cry at my funeral.