As I often do when I prepare to write a reflection, I look online for the commentary of others on the specific passages for the daily readings.  I was very surprised by the many diverse interpretations of the Matthew passage from today’s Gospel. 

I have most often heard this passage preached as a caveat to be prepared spiritually for death because we never know when it will arrive.  Clearly the joyous arrival of the bridegroom is not directly parallel to death, but entry to the feast, heaven, certainly is.  So that approach colors my thoughts for today.

I was first struck by the suddenness of death when I was 6 ½ years old.  Our neighbors had a granddaughter who visited frequently and over the years she and I became close playmates.  One evening in May, I was awakened by a screeching sound, followed by a thud and then sirens.  A while later my mother came to my room in tears and told me my friend, Barbara Ann, had been killed crossing the busy street at the end of our block with her aunt.  I didn’t understand what this meant, but when I never saw her again, I realized this was a permanent thing.

Over the following years deaths came suddenly to many people I knew or felt I knew through public exposure – car accidents of people my age, JFK, classmates in Viet Nam, relatives, family members, and so on.  In most of these cases I couldn’t help but wonder, at some point, if the deceased was “prepared” for the suddenness of their death, and challenged myself to see if I in fact was prepared.

Clearly spiritual preparation for death is essential, regardless of one’s faith tradition (or lack thereof).  We all know our death will happen someday, but our attitudes seem to naturally evolve over time – the 20-year old us is somewhat oblivious to the eventual happening, but the 70-year old us knows it is coming sooner rather than later.

What spiritual preparation can we undertake to be “ready” for death?  The nuns and priests and parents taught us that we must be free from serious sin and should receive the sacraments frequently, especially penance.  Other faith traditions take different approaches consistent with their core beliefs.  It seems to me, though, that all these traditions focus on how we live our lives as we inexorably journey toward death.  Do we treat others with kindness and respect?  Do we share our good fortune with those who have less?  Do we act with honesty and integrity in our business dealings?  Do we tell the truth?  Do we appropriately respect secular law and are we good citizens of our society?  Most importantly, do we act with love for those closest to us and others with whom we interact?

Clearly, the “be ready, you know not the day nor the hour” admonition that closes this passage is a reminder, but it also is an opportunity for awareness.  As I look back on my day, am I aware of how I may have treated someone unfairly or hurt them?  Can I take steps to ease the pain I caused or fix the inequity? 

But I think we also need to be in the moment.  If I accept that my next moment might be my last, how can I leave a person that I care about with a sense of disappointment or anger at my actions?  How can I hurt someone’s feelings and then leave without trying to ease the hurt?  Did I do what was feasible when I encountered another human who was hurting in the moment?  How have I acted in the most mundane everyday situations – driving in traffic, interacting with a salesperson, ordering and receiving a meal in a restaurant, waiting in a long line for my turn to be served – have I been nurturing or selfish? 

Since my next moment might be my last, I think I need to be more aware of how my words and actions are perceived by the other with whom I am dealing.  I need to ask if I want the last person with whom I interact to be enriched or disappointed by our transaction.  I need to unshackle myself from natural self-centeredness and act as I believe Christ would have in the same circumstances.           

And so, my prayer today is for the grace to be aware of each moment as if it were my last breathing time in this corporal life, and to treat whoever I may be with at that instant with the dignity and love that Jesus would have shared.