The picture above is something I keep in my office. It’s from 1934, showing young adults in the First Christian Church in Hammond. The Hammond church has since closed its doors, but back then it was a booming church, and the church I serve now was created by the Hammond church, so some old-timers in my congregation can identify a few faces in the photo. A woman in the picture died several years ago when she was in her 90’s, and I led her funeral service. Otherwise, all the faces are strangers to me. I look at this picture a lot, though; I’m drawn to all these fresh young faces in their Sunday best, undeterred by the Great Depression or the World War waiting for them in a couple years. What were their stories? I don’t know, but whenever I look at this picture I think, “Probably everyone here is dead now.”

In the middle of Benedict’s toolbox of virtues and practices, he offers this stark advice: “Day by day remind yourself that you will die.” Every day, Benedict is saying, we should consider our mortality. In our modern culture death is denied or hidden; death is whisked away by professionals and we don’t actively engage it. It was different for previous generations where mortality wasn’t easily avoided. So many images of medieval saints show them holding skulls, but I can’t imagine a modern person holding a skull. Benedict places the skull in our hands and tells us, “Remember that one day this is you.”

Part of the good news proclaimed in Christian faith is hope even in death. Paul asks in 1 Corinthians 15: “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” (v.55, NRSV) knowing that death doesn’t achieve the final victory. Death does, though, score a point in its losing effort, and the point is a large one. The life I know now will, sooner or later, have an ending point. Benedict tells us, “Remember this every day.”

About once a year, when I was younger, my family went to an amusement park. When I was old enough a friend would join me, and my mom would turn us loose telling us we were leaving at the end of the day. It was usually about 5 PM when we would depart, and that 5 o'clock deadline didn’t change the fun of the day; instead, it gave focus. I thought, “We only have so much time, so don’t screw around.” We rode every ride we could in that day because we knew at five it was over and it would be another year before I returned. Death is like that; considering it isn’t meant to depress us, but it’s meant to give focus to our lives, reminding us to use well the time.

One day someone will look at a picture of me, wondering what my story was, and think, “He’s dead now.” Benedict tells us, don’t let a day go by without thinking about that.