The Wishful Thinking of Deathbed Conversions

During our visit to a large parish for Sunday Mass while we were down at the beach, a woman collapsed a few pews ahead of where we were sitting. My wife, an ER nurse, quickly jumped in, giving chest compressions since the woman had no pulse initially. Once the woman was brought back from the dead, medics arrived and whisked her out of the church for further care. Mass never skipped a beat, and things soon returned to normal for those of us there in the pews. We knelt down as a family after Communion and prayed for the woman. We also thanked God that we had decided to go to this particular Mass as visitors on this particular day. Had my wife not been there, this woman may have been going before the Divine Judge sooner than she may have anticipated.

Our Lord is clear that we know neither the day nor the hour of our death (Mark 13:32), nor is it for us to know. Scripture is replete with passages to back up that vigilance—which lives somewhere between paranoia and lackadaisical neglect—is what is required of every man concerned with his spiritual standing before the Lord. We track our finances. We know the stats of our local sports team. How many of us are aware of the state of our souls?

Nor should we put off Confession, lest we find ourselves outside of a state of grace when our breath leaves us and we are called to give an account of our lives. One unconfessed mortal sin is enough to send a man to Hell. Most practicing, orthodox Catholics know this, and they seek to live in a way that is always conscious of remaining in this current of grace—the joy of forgiveness wrapped in the sober blanket of awareness of what we have been saved from. However, many in the pews do not, or were never taught, or dismissively think “I’m good.” Confession is readily available, everywhere, unless you live in the bush or outback. There is no excuse for not reaping the harvest of this grace of forgiveness in the Sacrament as a matter of regular habit.

But the man who takes for granted God’s patience and puts Him to the test by living outside of His grace all his life may wake up in horror on the other side of life. Because deathbed conversions—while a grace of God and within the bounds of His mercy—are not as common as one thinks. 

For one thing, there is the simple pragmatism of finding yourself facing sudden death at a moment you least expect. You may be surrounded by bystanders on the boardwalk or strangers in a supermarket, not pious Mass goers. When the angel of death comes swiftly, the likelihood of a Christian baptizing the unbaptized or a priest giving Last Rites in such circumstances is not a guarantee by any means. Or it may be that the crowd simply prioritizes the medical needs of such an emergency and not the spiritual.  When the angel of death comes swiftly, the likelihood of a Christian baptizing the unbaptized or a priest giving Last Rites in such circumstances is not a guarantee by any means.Tweet This

The sinner may find himself taking his last breaths staring down the barrel of eternity wondering why he had essentially wasted a lifetime of opportunity to take stock of his life and repent, fighting for life in the nanoseconds before he goes before the Judge and simply not having time to make amends. He had put off until tomorrow what he could have done today. Is it perhaps because he believes he doesn’t really need that forgiveness, that he is “okay” in his current state? That God couldn’t possibly send him to Hell with “those kinds of people” who “deserve” it?

There is of course the opportunity, afforded by grace and the teaching of the Church, to make an act of Perfect Contrition, as did St. Dismas appealing to the Messiah hanging next to him in his final hour and being welcomed with Him into Paradise. But Perfect Contrition is a supernatural grace and depends on the sinner’s sorrow for sin while loving God for His own sake, not for fear of Hell (which would be an Imperfect Act of Contrition)—something not even easy for the saints! 

The Lord is not some callous debt collector waiting for us to “slip up” once so He can do a margin call and cast us into eternal darkness. He wants us to return to Him and never leave, to never go back to sin like a dog to vomit (Proverbs 26:11). He gives us every grace to be saved. 

For those who trust the promises of Christ and His Mother and may desire some additional assurance (and “insurance” if you will), there are the First Friday and First Saturday devotions, which afford the sinner the graces necessary to persevere in the hour of death, that they will not die outside of God’s pleasure. There is also the promise of Our Lady of Mount Carmel to St. Simon Stock that those who die wearing the brown scapular will not suffer eternal fire. I’ve been committed to doing the First Friday and First Saturday devotions for the past five years or so, as well as enrolling in the brown scapular, and I trust our Lord’s and our Lady’s promises that they will aid me in my hour of need. If they are not trustworthy to deliver on those promises, who is? 

For those who take seriously the warnings of our Lord, we would be wise to listen to the words of St. James to not put off repentance to a future term: “Now listen, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.’ Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes” (James 4:13-14). Knowing you will die is the standard; thinking you won’t—even thinking you won’t sometime soon—is the aberration. Just being a “Mass-going” Catholic will not save you anymore than those Pharisees claiming Abraham as their father, whom our Lord admonishes (Matthew 3:9).

And for those of you who do not take those warnings seriously, putting off your conversion to your deathbed, you are playing Russian roulette with your soul. The thief comes in the night. Eventually, your luck will run out; and it’s not the click of an empty chamber you will hear but the sound of wailing and gnashing of teeth as you wake up on the other side to a nightmare of regret which never ends.