As we approach the end of the Lenten season, it would be worthwhile to reconsider the words that so often mark its beginning: “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” As Jesus did yesterday with the scribes and Pharisees, these words lead us to a reflection using the gift of memory: “Remember.” But this memory does not come from a lived experience. We were modeled in our mother’s womb not from the dust, and none of us hearing those words have actually tasted death in our own flesh. Yet we know these to be true. With these words, the Church proposes that we bear in mind humanity’s earthly origins and destiny.
Is there more to the story? Our heart’s inexhaustible desire would seem to tell us that there is, that we come from love and to love we are to return. And this is precisely what Jesus has come to testify. In today’s Gospel, when speaking of the Father, source of infinite love, Christ says, “I know where I came from and where I am going.” A glimmer of hope amongst the darkness of death, Christ promises us that if we walk with him, we will “have the light of life.”
Death is definite. Love is infinite. But in order for death not to have the last say, we must be prepared to face it with Christ. May we have the faith to walk in the light that shows us that love conquers all darkness. Let us accept our death so as to know life in Him.