One of the highlights of my week is our baptismal prep class. Even though it was cold, wet, and dark, my Iranians showed up for class last Thursday evening. I began the lesson: “If your doctor told you that you had to die tomorrow, how would you spend your last day on earth?” After some goofy remarks, one catechumen suggested, “I would want to be baptized right now.” “Excellent,” I replied. “And I would baptize you, to be sure…In addition to that, what else might you want to do?” “Contact my family,” one woman replied, “…Except that they live in Iran…” “Perhaps you could video them on WhatsApp,” I offered. “And once you had contacted them, just hours before you’re about to die, would you talk about some show you saw on Netflix—or would you want to share with them something substantial?” “Something substantial…that I love them,” the first lady replied.” “Yes, at the end of our life, I would think that everything we told our loved ones would be very meaningful,” I suggested, adding: “This is precisely the situation in which Jesus was the night before He was crucified. He knew He would die—and rise again on the third day. Nevertheless, He wanted to share with His friends what was dearest to his heart. Does anyone remember what Jesus did that night? The man who had wanted to be baptized spoke up: “He gave His disciples the Last Supper.” We fist-bumped. “That’s how significant the Lord’s Supper is,” I explained. “We are now at the end of the church year. Our thoughts focus not only on Christ’s return but also on the fact that we all stand at the edge of eternity—daily. The Latin term for it is ‘memento mori’—’Remember that you must die.’ And the best way to be prepared for our death and our Lord’s return is by reading our Bibles every day and taking the Lord’s Supper every time it is offered.” “That’s what I would tell my family if I knew I had to die tomorrow,” one of them responded. Amen, sister, and it doesn’t get any more meaningful than that.
