
In his book, Insane for the Light, Father Ronald Rolheiser tells of surviving cancer–only to have the cancer return several years later. His oncologist told him he would probably have only thirty months to live. That news, he says, “rocked me to my roots. I sat in prayer in a deep sadness.” But soon he realized “I needed a creed to make those last months precious.” He then wrote a ten point creed for himself. Here are four of his points:
I am going to make every day and every activity as precious and enjoyable as possible.
I am going to strive to be as gracious, warm, and charitable as possible.
I am going to strive to live a more fully “reconciled life.” No room for past hurts anymore.
I am going to strive to keep my sense of humor intact.

I was inspired by his words to begin to draft a creed of my own. After all, how can I be an octogenarian and not think about my own death on a fairly regular basis? I’d like to share a few lines from my own personal creed with you.
I will begin each day by thanking God for another new day.
I will end each day recalling a few of the highs and lows of my day and placing all of them into God’s loving hands.
I will try to be “present to the present,” that is, to the people and activities with which I am presently engaged.
I will look for “a thing of beauty” in every single day.

I will try to keep my complaining to a minimum and my thanking to a maximum.
I will acknowlege and embrace my need for other people: family members, friends, colleagues, readers, professionals, total strangers…. and most especially my need for God’s loving guidance and strength.
I will try to turn every worry into some concrete act of loving.
So far, that’s my personal creed. Or at least a rough draft. Perhaps you would like to draft a creed of your own. After all, November is the month the Church encourages us to take time to reflect on death. The month begins with the feast of All Saints (Nov. 1) and All Souls (Nov. 2). Our Mass readings focus on “the last things” and the end of the world. And the liturgical year comes to an end with the feast of Christ the King (Nov. 22). In the northern hemisphere, nature seems to support our reflecting on death. Most of the leaves have fallen to the ground, the days are getting shorter and shorter, and falling snows have already blanketed the earth in many places.

At the end of his creed, Fr. Ronald Rolheiser writes, “It has been nearly ten years since that dire diagnosis and, thanks to God and some very good doctors, I am still alive and wonderfully healthy–but still daily praying that creed.”
We don’t need a “dire diagnosis” to reflect on our own death. And such reflecting need not be gloomy. After all, the reality of our own death can instill in us this daily reminder: How very precious is God’s gift of my one, single, unique, and unrepeatable human life!
For reflection:
Is there anything in Rolheiser’s (or my) creed that stood out for you?
If you choose to draft your own creed, I invite you to share a line or a few lines with us below.
I have not prepared my entire funeral yet, but I will likely make a few requests for music. This song today will probably be one of them. I hope this short verse may be sung toward the end of the Mass at the “final commendation.” It is a contemporary hymn by Dan Schutte based on the traditional funeral song, “May the choirs of angels lead you into paridise.” But the words of this prayer/song are as follows:
Go now in peace faithful friend of God as you take our love into paradise.
God’s holy angels will lead you home to the wide waiting arms of the Lord.
In this version, these two lines are repeated several times in various harmonies. At my funeral, the choir/congregation need sing it only twice…
I invite you to send us a comment below…
