For what is your life?

Worldlings esteem happy only those who enjoy the pleasures, the riches and the pomps of this earth. But death puts an end to all these earthly goods. For what is your life? It is a vapour which appeareth for a little while. O my Jesus, how often, for the miserable pleasures and goods of this earth, have I offended and lost Thee Who art an Infinite Good!

I. For what is your life? It is a vapour which appeareth for a little while (James iv. 15). The vapours exhaled from the earth, when raised in the air and clothed in the light of the sun, make a splendid appearance, but how long does this splendour last? It vanishes before the first blast of wind. Behold that nobleman: today flattered and feared and almost adored; tomorrow dead, despised, reviled and trampled upon. At death we must leave all things. The brother of that great servant of God, Thomas a Kempis, took delight in speaking of a beautiful house which he had built for himself: a friend told him that it had one great defect. "What is it?" he asked. "It is," answered the other, "that you have made a door in it." "What!" rejoined the brother of a Kempis, "is a door a defect?" "Yes," answered the friend; "for through this door you must one day be carried dead and must leave house and all."

Death in a word, strips man of all this world's goods. Oh, what a spectacle to behold a prince banished from his palace, never more to return to it; and to see others take possession of his furniture, his money, and all his other goods! The servants leave him in the grave with a garment scarcely sufficient to cover his body. There is no longer any one to esteem or flatter him, no longer any one to attend to his commands. Saladin, who had acquired many kingdoms in Asia, gave directions at death, that when his body should be carried to the place of burial a person should go before, holding a winding-sheet suspended from a pole and crying aloud: "This is all that Saladin brings with him to the grave."

My Lord, since Thou givest me light to know that whatever the world esteems is smoke and folly grant me strength to detach my heart from earthly goods before death separates me from them. Miserable that I have been! How often for the miserable pleasures and goods of this earth, have I offended and lost Thee, Who art an Infinite Good! O Jesus, my heavenly Physician, cast Thine eyes upon my poor soul, look at the many wounds which I have inflicted on it by my sins, and have pity on me. If thou wishest thou canst make me clean (Matt. viii. 2). I know that Thou art able and willing to heal me; but in order to heal me, Thou wishest me to repent of the injuries which I have committed against Thee. I am sorry for them from the bottom of my heart. Heal me, then, now that it is in Thy power to heal me. Heal my soul, for I have sinned against thee (Ps. xl. 5).

II. When the body of the prince is laid in the grave, his flesh drops off, and behold, his skeleton can no longer be distinguished from others. "Contemplate," says St. Basil, "the sepulchres of the dead, and see if you can distinguish who has been a servant, and who has been a master." Diogenes was one day seen by Alexander the Great seeking with great anxiety for something among the bones of the dead. Alexander asked him what he was in search of. "I am looking," replied Diogenes, "for the head of Philip your father. I am not able to distinguish it. If you can find it, show it to me." "Men," says Seneca, "are born unequal; but after death all are equal." And Horace says that death brings down the sceptre to the level of the spade — Sceptra ligonibus aequat. In a word, when death comes, the end comes; all ends, we leave all things; and of all we possess in this world, we bring nothing to the grave.

I have forgotten Thee, O Lord, but Thou hast not forgotten me; and now Thou makest me feel that Thou wilt even forget the injuries I have done Thee, if I detest them. But if the wicked do penance... I will not remember all his iniquities (Ezech. xviii. 21). Behold, I detest my sins, I hate them above all things. Forget, then, O my Redeemer, all the displeasure I have given Thee. For the future I will forfeit all things, even life, rather than forfeit Thy grace. And what can all the goods of this earth profit me without Thy grace?

Ah, assist me! Thou knowest my weakness. Hell will not cease to tempt me: it already prepares a thousand attacks to make me again its slave. No, my Jesus, do not abandon me. I wish to be henceforth the slave of Thy love. Thou art my only Lord; Thou hast created and redeemed me; Thou hast loved me more than all others; Thou alone hast merited my love; Thee alone do I wish to love.