Memento Mori

Romans 13:8-14; 14:1-4, 7-10

Owe no one anything, except to love one another, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law. The commandments, “You shall not commit adultery; you shall not murder; you shall not steal; you shall not covet,” and any other commandment, are summed up in this word, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.

Besides this, you know what time it is, how it is already the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone; the day is near. Let us then throw off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light; let us walk decently as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in illicit sex and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy. Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires…

Welcome those who are weak in faith but not for the purpose of quarreling over opinions. Some believe in eating anything, while the weak eat only vegetables. Those who eat must not despise those who abstain, and those who abstain must not pass judgment on those who eat, for God has welcomed them. Who are you to pass judgment on slaves of another? It is before their own lord that they stand or fall. And they will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make them stand.

For we do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves. If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s. For to this end Christ died and lived again, so that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living.

Why do you pass judgment on your brother or sister? Or you, why do you despise your brother or sister? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God.

Sermon

In November 2024, the British neuropsychiatrist Dr. Peter Fenwick died. In 1988, Dr. Fenwick had appeared on a BBC documentary and provided an interview regarding the near-death visions of his clients. After the documentary aired, he received over 2,000 letters from people across the world who were relieved and eager to share about their own near-death experiences.

This fueled his scientific and clinical curiosity, so much so that he undertook seminal research into the phenomena of near-death experiences.

After the New York Times published his obituary, the paper received another influx of stories and messages written by ordinary people about near-death experiences.

A man named Elliot in San Francisco said this: “[In December 2003], I had a sudden, severe pancreatitis attack. The pain was extreme… Lying on the gurney, I saw ‘the light’ at the ceiling and knew I was either dead or near death. The feeling was extraordinarily blissful; I knew that it would be a loving transition to a new world. I had to decide — stay or go… I stayed.”

Marvin from Massachusetts told another story. “[My wife] had woken up early one morning from a startling dream. She told me she had been in a dark tunnel heading toward a bright, white light, when her deceased father appeared. He said, ‘Go back, Susan; it is not your time yet…’ [At a later day], my wife was being lifted onto an ambulance. Her last words to me were that she wasn’t going to make it. I have lived with her words since that night.”

These near-death experiences are not rarities. The more they are studied, the more we realize their significance and prevalence. I would be shocked if there wasn’t anyone in the congregation who has experienced one of these experiences. 

Clinicians have also recognized that these experiences are mostly positive. Several individuals who shared their story with the New York Times stated that they “don’t fear death now.” It turns out, when we have an opportunity to greet death and to step onto its doorstep, our lives often leave the experience with greater meaning and purpose in life. Those experiences aren’t ones that hollow us out inside, or experiences that somehow heighten our fears or anxieties. Instead, people tend to find a deeper connection to the universe beyond death.

We hear the authors of the Old Testament affirm the importance of remembering death. From the very beginning, told in the ancient stories of creation, God’s voice rings out from the garden of Eden saying, “you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Remember you will die.

Later, as early Christianity is formed in the centuries following Christ, this remembrance of death became increasingly important. As it tried to parse out its identity, especially in its relationship to Judaism, the early church found itself in the sacraments of baptism and Holy Communion. In baptism, the church remembers that we are baptized into the death of Jesus Christ, and birthed in the waters of creation and Christ’s resurrection. In the sacrament of Communion, we always hear the plea of the anguished Jesus Christ, preparing to face his humiliation and torturous death. “Do this in remembrance of me.” Again and again, day after day, the church has gathered for that shared meal, listening to Jesus making this almost worried request: “please, whatever you do, remember me.”

“From the very beginning, told in the ancient stories of creation, God’s voice rings out from the garden of Eden saying, ‘you are dust, and to dust you shall return.’ Remember you will die.”

Halloween, that mumbled way of saying “All Hallow’s Eve,” has a huge array of misinformation about it. There’s a sizable number of American Christians who believe it is some sort of Satanic night, or one that’s full of demons or evil. There’s also a sizable number of people who believe it’s an appropriation of Samhain (pronounced SAW-in), an ancient festival for pagan Celtics. But references to the pagan Samhain didn’t appear for centuries after mentions of All Hallow’s Eve — it seems that Christianity beat the Celts to the punch.

On All Hallow’s Eve—even before All Saints Day and the later All Soul’s Day—Christianity has placed an idea at its very heart: memento mori. “Remember that you die.” Remember your mortality.

Like near death experiences, we observe All Hallow’s Eve because befriending death leads us into fuller and deeper vitality in life. When we move our hearts and spirits into the liminal, watery space between our corporeal existence and the universe beyond this life, we find ourselves face-to-face with the mystery of Jesus Christ. As Paul put it, “Christ died and lived again, so that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living.”

This is one of the most miraculous powers of Jesus Christ: Jesus takes ahold of death—the world that some of us encounter through near-death experiences—and Jesus takes ahold of corporeal life—and brings them right next to each other. Jesus brings what is surely coming for each of us so close to our present lives that we are left irrevocably changed.

One of the most miraculous powers of Jesus Christ is to stand with one foot in the grave and one foot out of it; as Paul says, to be “Lord of both the dead and the living.” The lines of death and life are always blurred in the Christian faith because of Christ. And we don’t have to find where those lines begin and end, because in many ways, it is insignificant: Christ is in both. Jesus always has one foot in the grave, wherever it may be, and Jesus always has one foot out of the grave, wherever it may be.

In other words, we remember death—momento mori—because we are always in proximity to death and life. We are always in proximity to the dead and resurrected Jesus Christ.

“One of the most miraculous powers of Jesus Christ is to stand with one foot in the grave and one foot out of it; as Paul says, to be ‘Lord of both the dead and the living.’”

Just as near-death experiences change the ways we live our life, remembering that Jesus is a Lord of the dead and Lord of the living changes the ways we live today. Paul writes this: “For we do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves. If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.”

Paul writes this to show his reasoning on all those things he says leading up to it. Go, fulfill the law by loving one another, because we will be united in the death of Christ. Go, throw off the vapid frivolities that serve no purpose, because we will be united in the death of Jesus Christ. Go, give up quarreling; go, welcome one another; go, embrace your kindred instead of casting judgment, because we will be united in the death of Jesus Christ. Memento mori. Memento mori.

Paul is almost out of breath by the time he reminds us that we will surely die. We live, we die; we live in the love of Jesus Christ; we die in the love of Christ.

He’s gasping for air and pens this: “Why do you pass judgment on your siblings? Or you, why do you despise your kinfolk?” He says that very soon, Christ will greet us at the foothill of yet another world.

We join the Church today in remembering our mortality. Today, we don’t remember fire and brimstone, or hellish suffering of our current life; we remember that we die in the same manner that we were born: held in love, shepherded by the Lord of all, and part of a communion of saints that is far bigger and more beautiful than we can ever grasp.

We are dying into an everlasting light — the Lord of both the dead and the living, in whom we find our hope and salvation.