“…to eternal life.”

At age 25, writing about death was academic and impersonal. I had met death but rarely and at some distance. One week from now I will hear the 83rd version of Happy Birthday and blow out the cumulative total of 3,486 candles. Figuratively. I can’t certify that there was a cake with one candle on it long ago, and I certainly hope I don’t see a cake with 83 candles on it next week. The fire alarm system in our apartment couldn’t handle it.

“and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.” So writes St. Francis. Several things give me hope flowing from those words. Francis was a holy man who knew God intimately. I trust his certainty. Also, I believe that the opposite of death is not life, but birth. Death and birth are two moments of time set in the context of life. Life that was, life that is, life that will be. And I think that’s what Francis is affirming. I have met death many times over the years, face to face, up close and personal. Fifty-six years of pastoral ministry guarantees the acquaintance. Slowly and naturally, we have become friends. A third thing I believe: when dying happens, so does birth. “to eternal life” Francis writes as he concludes this amazing prayer. To speculate, for me, about the where and the when and the how and the why is a waste of my spiritual energy. That wresting match took place long ago when I wrote academic papers for my seminary professor to satisfy requirements for graduation.

I believe Francis because we share the same source of information. To paraphrase: if you live for me you will never die. You will be “born” to eternal life. I stake my life and my death own those words.

I was. I am. I will be. That’s enough.

May the eternal Francis hear our voices of gratitude for the gift of this beautiful prayer. May the eternal Christ hear our heart songs of joy for making it all a reality. Amen.