Things you think might have little worth could save soul

Article 131 - Catechism of the Catholic Church Series
Paragraphs 1716-1724

Among the poems my dad would often recite from memory was a poem called “Trees” by New Brunswick, New Jersey native Alfred Joyce Kilmer. I fondly recall the opening line: “I think that I shall never see, a poem lovely as a tree;” and the final line would always bring a smile to my face: “Poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree.”
Kilmer, a convert to Catholicism, had five children with his wife Aline before his untimely death in 1918 at the age of 31 on a battlefield in France during World War I.
Another poem of Kilmer’s called “Prayer of a Soldier in France,” compares the pack on his back growing heavy with thoughts of the cross on Christ’s shoulder; when his feet burn and smart, he remembers the pierced feet of Christ; when officers shout and curse, he recalls the shouting mob; when his rifle hand grows still and numb, he thinks of the nailed hands of Jesus. In the final lines of the poem he writes, “Lord, Thou didst suffer more for me than all the hosts of land and sea.”
Kilmer’s creative ability transformed his poetry into tracts of catechetical instruction. From the sufferings of Christ, this poet-soldier also drew courage from his own sufferings and inspired others to do likewise. This did not go unnoticed, even soon after his death when parks were dedicated to him, including one on the swank Grand Concourse in New York. (One particular professor, though, felt the honor was excessive, musing that he would have been satisfied to see a fire hydrant named in Kilmer’s honor, preferably in some quarter of the city with a large population of “micturating canines.”) A most fitting conclusion afforded Kilmer by the officiating minister at the dedication ceremony was a solemn reading of the Beatitudes.
The Catechism tells us that the Beatitudes “are at the heart of Jesus’ preaching” (ccc 1716) because they “take up the promises made to the chosen people since Abraham [and] fulfill the promises by ordering them no longer merely to the possession of a territory, but to the Kingdom of heaven” (ccc 1716). The first evangelist, St. Matthew, is responsible for giving us the Beatitudes spoken by Jesus:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when men revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.
Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven.” (Mt 5:3-12)
“The Beatitudes,” states the Catechism a few paragraphs later, “reveal the goal of human existence, the ultimate end of human acts: God calls us to his own beatitude” (ccc 1719).
Quoted in paragraph 1722 of the Catechism, St. Augustine says it this way: “There we shall rest and see, we shall see and love, we shall love and praise. Behold what will be at the end without end. For what other end do we have, if not to reach the kingdom which has no end.”
Any moment of the day or night the trumpet blast of death may sound before our door, may summon us to appear before the eternal, all knowing Judge, to hear Him say: “heaven, hell, or purgatory.” How different life and the things of life will seem in that moment of particular judgment. What we thought so important — money, fame, social position, pleasure, comfort — will be worthless, and often, if sinfully obtained and sinfully enjoyed, these apparently precious things will be a mark against us. On the other hand, how valuable would be the things we thought of little worth — a prayer, a visit to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, an act of charity, a kind word, a penance assumed or some suffering or pain endured for love of God. If we would put ourselves in the position and light of that particular judgment, we would be much more ready for it. No wonder “the beatitude” we are promised confronts us with decisive moral choices. It invites us to purify our hearts of bad instincts and to seek the love of God above all else” (ccc 1723).
The great 19th century, newly canonized British convert, St. Cardinal John Henry Newman, in his beautiful poem, “The Dream of Gerontius,” pictures that particular judgment in graphic words. He tells us that the sight of the Judge will kindle tender, reverential thoughts. The soul will be overcome with love and yearning for God. Yet, should it not be fit for heaven, the soul itself will want to leave God until it is fit for His company. Newman tenderly describes how the angel guardian takes the soul gently to the lake of purgatory, after the particular trial. When that day of gathering and reckoning comes, may each one of us by the grace and goodness of God, be not among the weeds that will be bundled up for burning, but among the wheat that is gathered into the eternal barn. No wonder “God put us in the world to know, to love, and to serve him, and so to come to paradise” (ccc 1721).
Father Hillier serves as Director of the Diocesan Office of the Pontifical Missions, the Office for Persons with Disabilities, and Censor Librorum.