What is life for? An annoying burden, say some, a burden imposed upon us by somebody or other, without asking our consent, as it were despite us. If they adapt themselves to life, it is only in order to get rich and enjoy themselves. They make everything subservient to this end - even the much or little that they do for other people. And so they run away from pain in horror, and even more so from death, the thing which will deprive them of their money and their pleasures. If at times such people do look forward to death, it is because they consider it as the end of otherwise inescapable suffering; and in the throes of sorrow, such a desire may go as far as suicide. Such is the selfish concept of death and life, confirmed and made more widespread by the war, not only by the ruins and destruction of human life that it has caused, but also by its toll on wealth and the appetite it creates for merely material well-being.

Catholic asceticism teaches quite the opposite. Life as well as death have their origin in Love: It is from Love that they have their purpose and reason for existence.

Life is a gift from a God Who loves us. Giving it to us, He had made us partakers of His own perfection, for He is eternal Life. His life is love; and our life should be the same. Loving us, He is happy; and so too, we would be happy if we loved Him. And since love tends to diffuse itself, just as He has loved us out of the love of His own perfection, so too we, out of love of Him, will love our friends and our brothers. Love of God and love of neighbor are but two flames of one fire, two acts of the same virtue, two precepts of one and the same law, two ends of one and the same life. Remove the ashes which choke the fire and you will have a flame. Purify your heart of all sinful love, of all earthly love, of all wrong love of self; then from a pure heart will burst forth a love that is Holy.

Who can tell of the longing and the need that the saints felt for such a love? They searched for their God without cease, primarily in silence and solitude, prayer and meditation, in the almost uninterrupted practice of the presence of God. And in contrast with Him they felt their souls raised from the earth, as it were leaving their bodies and enjoying a foretaste of the delights of Heaven. But they also looked for God in their brethren, in poor sinners immersed in error and vicious habits and in the miseries of which the earth is full. And in contact with misery their hearts became merciful, pouring out the light and peace and love with which they were filled.

For these souls even death had lost its natural repugnance, and was turned into an object of their longing and their prayer. Had not Jesus said that there was no greater proof of love than to give one's own life for the one we love? A sublime doctrine: even death is an expression of love: To die for God, to die for one's neighbor - this is to be the longing of saints; to die in the confession of the faith, amid the exertions of the apostolate and the privations endured for love; to die as expiatory victim of divine justice, as sacrificial hosts to win graces from the divine mercy; to die simply because death is the greatest gain - "to me to live is Christ, and to die, gain."

Life is a gift of God; and so too is death. Christ, in dying made pain a condition for reward. We are twice travelers, says St. Paul so well: While we are living in the body, we are travelers away from God; and when we shall be united with God, we shall be travelers away from the body. It would be better to have both God and our bodies together - but since this is unfortunately impossible on earth, then let death come to strip us of our bodies and unite us with God. Augustine's cry will be the cry of the saints: "Let me die that I may see Thee!" If they adapted themselves to life, it was to prolong their suffering for the glory of God, or else to help their neighbor in the apostolate. Even their longing for heaven was not a selfish one: They looked forward to it that they might there continue more effectively their ministry of love. Common to all of them was the wish of the Little Flower: "I want to spend my Heaven doing good on earth."

These thoughts were suggested by a reading of the spiritual testament written last December by young Frank Parater, a student of the American College, just a month before his death. It is so edifyingly beautiful that we thought it should be made known to everyone. Hence we quote it in full:

The prayer of that generous soul went straight to Heaven. God did not wait for Good Friday to hear it. A month later, on January 8 of the following year, Frank Parater died at Rome, as he wished, at the age of 22. He died in the midst of the saints, who are the glory of the City, and he was buried with them, for with them he has brought a blessing to this privileged soil.

On the evening of February 5, 1918, a ninety-year old man, an apostate priest, cut
his throat with a knife. To the physicians and friends who tried to save his life he said, "Why did I not die?…What is life for?"

The young seminarian of the American College has given him the most eloquent response.

(Translation from Osservatore Romano - May 1 - by Rev. Father Herbert Musurello. R.J. Woodstock Md.)

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