A few weeks ago, my college classmates at the United States Military Academy (USMA) at West Point, New York,
celebrated homecoming weekend. Although I was not able to attend that special day for the Class of 1987, the activities planned by our alma mater allowed us to rekindle the camaraderie, reminisce the good memories and memorialize 30 years since we left our Rockbound Highland Home. There is one common denominator in the few reunions I have attended with my classmates in University of the East High School, in USMA and in Ateneo Law School—happiness.
In contrast, I have attended quite a few funerals in the past few weeks. Against the backdrop of thousands of extrajudicial killings and outrage over the untimely death of a hazing victim, it seems as if the season for death is at an all-time high. Using the famous lines in the hit television series, Game of Thrones, it appears that “winter is coming” here in the Philippines. And death, or the danger of death, almost always leads people to reflect on the gift of life and the afterlife.
As opposed to homecomings and reunions where the prevalent emotion is joy and bliss, the more common disposition during wakes and funerals is grief and sorrow. I have been told that grief is our last act of love to those who have passed away. Indeed, in the wakes I have recently attended, the outpouring of grief was palpable. When death comes too early, as in the case of Javi Villareal, the 20-year-old son of a coworker in Ateneo Law School, doubt is also present. Those left behind ask questions hardly anyone knows the answer. In doubt or in grief, we must be able to feel and express both emotions in order to find peace in the event of death.
One of the best ways to find peace is to rely on His grace, surrender to His will and, most important, trust in His timing. One friend even believes that we must trust in Him so much so that instead of giving condolences to grieving families, we must tell them to rejoice, for their loved one has finally rejoined his Creator. Although I find it inconceivable to celebrate death, my growing faith has allowed me to realize and acknowledge that there is, indeed, some reason to be joyful. I now tell grieving families to be at peace, for their departed loved one has been reunited with their Father.
This peaceful approach to death reminds me of one prayerful friend, Ernie Lopez. His colorful life story can inspire the most dejected and depressed among us. Every morning, Ernie sends scripture verses and reflections to his friends by way of an online thread aptly titled “Daily Fix of A Few Good Men”. He prays constantly and relentlessly with his family, household help, coworkers and friends. He prays for both strangers and loved ones. Even for the most mundane events that happened during any given day, Ernie gives thanks through prayers. His habit of prayer gives him peace of mind and of spirit. The dark clouds that hover in his life during times of sorrow are converted into a rainbow through prayer. I personally have yet to live a similar life, as my mind is preoccupied with work, family, friends and relationships. It is undeniably difficult to achieve peace in such a fast-paced world, but we must use these worldly undertakings as avenues for prayer.
A passage from Romans 14:8 resonates with me: “If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord.” Death is painful and often difficult, but it is, in a sense, one way of going home. As such, Philippians 3:20 tells us: “Our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ.” Thus, when faced with death, we must pray and even relish with peace in our hearts, for death is a homecoming. And as for homecomings, in the words of my USMA classmate Michael Pratt, “The mountaintop is not meant to teach us anything, it is meant to make us something. The moments on the mountaintop are rare moments, and they are meant for something in God’s purpose.” To me, Pratt’s poignant expression exemplifies how we should all feel when we are at home.
Yes, in death, we must grieve. But, paradoxically, we must also find time to celebrate. To those left behind by some of our media friends, Joe Taruc, Tony Calvento, Erick San Juan and Roy Sinfuego, as well as former fellow public servants Sen. Dominador Aytona and Rep. Henedina Abad, please be assured that your loved ones are in a much happier place now—home.
For questions and comments, please e-mail me at sbmison@gmail.com.