Tuesday 22 November 2016

The End of the Liturgical Year and the Month of Reckoning

In November we've been pondering, among other things, the importance of remembering the fact of our death. With this inevitable event in view, we've considered how to prepare ourselves psychologically for this great transition.

This is not a gloomy thought, unless we've lived so heedlessly that we have good reason to fear death.

For most of us, death will bring a new chance to develop in ways that we can't begin to understand from our limited viewpoint here. I know, from my own Near Death Experience, that death is not the end of existence. There is more, much more, and it will be liberating beyond all our expectation - but we must be ready for it when it happens.

Of course, some people are in complete denial about their own death. We see this from the popularity of youth serums, plastic surgery, desperate attempts to prolong life by artificial means, and even a rise in those seeking to have their bodies frozen at the moment of death. The idea behind this is that, some day, it might be possible to resuscitate them so that they live again in the same body.

What an absurd and truly frightening proposition! If it ever happens, the revived bodies will have no functioning brain and will simply be zombies. The lost soul, which generally hovers around the physical body for a short time after death so that it can witness the body's ultimate disposal, and the honours accorded to the loved, departed one, will be condemned to languish for perhaps hundreds of years around the frozen, hopeless corpse.

If one day that corpse is revived, the soul will have no brain with which to think, no voice to express itself, no means of communicating with the living.

Will that soul be sent to its next stage, regardless of the fate of the body? We simply don't know. We may hope that Conscious Humanity, with wisdom and compassion, will release it from any lingering attachment to the frozen corpse, and that the soul will be able to journey on its way to the next stage of its existence. But we can't say for certain. It is a troubling situation.

And what it reflects - the denial of an afterlife and the frantic, doomed attempt to prolong life on this Earth - is even more troubling.

In the Work, as in all the great religions of the world, we know that our earthly life will some day come to an end. We prepare ourselves for it daily, reminding ourselves of what is important, what is ephemeral. The Catholic phrase "to make a good end" is relevant here. There's no need to fear death if we have repented of all our life's sins and errors, and if we've made our peace with our families, friends and with the God of our understanding. This is called "dying in a state of grace", and it is the aim of all religions to make this possible.

We may fear pain, of course, but not death itself, which we believe - and some of us know, through having had Near Death Experiences - signals the end of pain and the start of a new form of existence, ultimately filled with joy and bliss in the presence of Conscious Humanity.

The liturgical year has always sought to bring us back to this fundamental fact in its readings and meditations for November. The great festival of Christ the King, held either at the beginning or end of November, depending on which church calendar is followed, reminds us that Christ - the leader and head of Conscious Humanity - is ultimately in charge of all creation. He will usher us into eternal life, if we have lived according to His precepts.

For those who have not done so, death may come as the complete end. Again, we don't know. We are told, however, that even the most earthbound, sinful soul may be granted the grace of "final repentance", that is, seeing the harm they have done in their lifetime, their need to repair that harm, and to repent of the great sorrow they have brought to their Creator. Anyone who repents then will face a prolonged period of reparation and sorrow after death before they are made ready to proceed further into the afterlife.

We can't say, therefore, whether any particular individual has been eternally condemned. Even horrendous, historical "hasnamuss" figures, such as Hitler or Stalin, may have eventually repented. But it is not a given, and we can only admit that we don't know, once again.

What should concern us here is the state of our own Being. Have we worked on ourselves today? Are we more awake this year than last? Have we forgiven others, and have we sought the forgiveness of those we have hurt this year? Have we been honest with ourselves about our own misdeeds, or have we become mired in self-justifying? Do we live in awareness of our own death, and with the constant, unflagging effort of self-perfection that this knowledge brings?

In the Work, as in the Christian faith and the Twelve Steps, we're encouraged to make a daily inventory and to measure how far we've lived up to our ideals, and where we've fallen short. But in the autumn, culminating in the month of November, this reckoning encompasses the entire previous year.

For most of us, the annual November report card will say "Could do better".

As the liturgical year draws to a close now, we remind ourselves that the purpose of our life is to work on ourselves, to overcome our mechanicalness, to become purified and ready to meet our own death whenever it may come.

And, after this annual reckoning, we look towards Advent and Christmas for the chance to celebrate a new birth in us, and in the world.

Advent Sunday begins this weekend, and I wish everyone a joyful and reflective season as we get ready to welcome the new birth that can occur for each of us at Christmas.

The angels proclaim "Peace on Earth to men of good will". That peace will be ours when we have worked on ourselves, have developed our understanding along with our will, so that we can practice that which we know to be necessary: the unending task of awakening, which prepares us for a higher state of Being.


No comments:

Post a Comment