When Tomorrow never Came
(Death has Struck)
impium superexaltatum, et elevatum sicut cedros Libani; et transivi,
et ecce non erat; et quaesivi eum, et non est inventus locus ejus.”
have seen the wicked highly exalted, and lifted up like the cedars
And I passed by, and lo, he was not: and I sought him and his place
was not found.”
You have already
heard that sonorous sound as of a distant trumpet.
It is indistinct, distant, and carries a somber semibreve that every
man who has ever lived has heard. For some it is an ominous bray, immeasurably
deep, tremulous and harsh, muted only by the depths of earth through
which it breasts in mighty fissures that close again in the last sounding
leaving graves quivering in anticipation.
It strikes the lowest chords in the
human heart and is ancient beyond the sum of all years.
You do not hear it with your ears but
with the deepest listening in your being. It somehow resembles the final
muttering of thunder in a vast distance that reverberates through the
earth. It is a call, you realize, of something to come.
It resonates in the darkest chambers
of your soul. It is primeval. Instantly you understand it as a prophetic
It percolates through every language of man and is comprehensible
It is alternately a prophesy, a promise,
a hope or a threat, and all are unmistakably certain: “You
profound, immeasurable depth of the sound is the gathered timelessness
of that existential refrain: all men have died or will die. And so will
you. It bears the unsustainable weight of eternity.
Have you begun vainly reflecting upon
in the world”
world will remember you”
— in that tomorrow that one day will not come for you — at least
in this world?
It will not, despite all your pretensions.
Most of us — the vast majority of us — are not momentous figures in
the annals of history, and even were we, we would never know, being
dead. What is more, the world will end, and with it, all remembrance
of famous and infamous figures ... and us. It is of no significance
to be remembered by the world after we are dead — but it is of the
greatest significance to be known by God, and to never hear those
terrible words that will be uttered by Christ to many in the Last Judgment:
“I never knew you: depart from Me” (Saint
The very ancient Sequence Dies Irae
(Day of Wrath) which was sung for centuries in the Requiem Mass, or
Mass for the Dead (Missa
pro defunctis) describes it succinctly in the fourth stanza:
Mors stupebit et
Cum resurget creatura,
Death is struck,
and nature quaking,
All creation is awaking,
To its Judge an answer making.
It is worth
pondering. In fact, we must deeply reflect upon it — while
Boston Catholic Journal
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