Concise Lectures On How To Die (the finest art ever man can learn) by Jeffery Opoku - HTML preview

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LECTURE 9

OF A DISCOURSE BETWEEN A SERVANT AND A DEPARTED SOUL ON A DARK NIGHT.

[On a dark night, a servant journeys into the wilderness in search of wild nuts for his master when he meets up with a departed brother and they hold converse.]

Departed Soul: Young man, from whence comest thou into this great wilderness? What seekest thou here all alone?

Servant: I come from that noble land beyond. I am a native of that great land to the east of this great deep. I came here to hunt for wild nuts for my master for he seeketh them so earnestly.

Departed Soul: But why comest thou all the way here, when many nuts are by the river side where the two footpaths meet. Why travel you so deep into this great deep and on this dark night. Knowest thou not that no man abideth here?

Servant: True art the things thou saidth, my Lord, but my master bade me to come here for the nuts. And shouldest I return home with the ones by the river side, shall he not slay me? For he is a man of little patience.

Departed Soul: Where sayeth again that thou cometh from? Where abideth thee and thy master?

Servant: We do abide in that land to the east of this great deep. That vast land thither!

Departed Soul: Aaaah! Art thou a mortal man? Art thou also a native of that East land? Have not thou breath in thy nostrils?

Servant: Yes, old one! I am a native of that East Land. And sayeth thou right, there is yet breath in my nostrils.

Departed Soul: Then blessed art thou and blessed is the land of thy nativity. Great indeed art thou that standeth before me and great art thy days.

Servant: Didst not I say that I am only a servant on an errand, and thou callest me great? Why dost thou mock me so hard? Why add you grief to my sorrow? Art thou not moved by my tragic woe seeing I am so far removed from home and from my people?

Departed Soul: Far be it from me that I should mock a mortal man, who has time and chance in his hands. Why shouldest I mock a man on earth, who has full possession of his conscience? Heaven bears me witness that I mock you not, friend. For true art the things I speak of thee. Every man of that East Land is a great man. For there only do men have time to do and undo their evil. There only do men speak to the heavens and are heard.

(Immediately he falls to the ground and yells the following words) - Oh what great blessedness it is to live in that great land of mortals. How sweet and solemn it feels to tread upon stones and clay and to behold the beauty of all creation. That land is clothed in awe and excellence. It is a land flowing with milk and honey. But what many distractions are there in that land. How I wish I could trace my way back into that land and feast my eyes on its felicities again. For therein will I rightly estimate my time and undo all my evils. O poor me, why didn’t I number my days back there. Why didn’t I become a worshipper and rightly fulfill my purpose. But now abide I in eternity, and I have no time to myself. I, even I, abide in sorrows.

Servant: Why art thou so hard on thyself? Why speaketh thou as though thou wert once a native of my land? Tell me, who art thou, and from whence cometh thou also, father?

Departed Soul: I am a man from yonder world. I abideth in that far country to the west of this great deep, that country with numerous inhabitants. There it is I have my abode. But before I took my journey there, I also used to be a native of thy land. I was one of its noble princes, until death took me away from my people into that yonder space.

Servant: And what doest thou here in this great wilderness, which separateth the east land from thy far west land? What seekest thou here all alone, hiding in the shrubs. I guess thou runneth away from thy master!

Departed Soul: Not so my son! I journeyed all the way here to steal glances at the inhabitants of thy land, the East Land. I hideth here in this shrub to only make view of the East Land. I am here to steal glances at its felicities and to mourn the days I foolishly gave away to fooleries and trifles. For now do I rightly prize the power of that great land.

Servant: Am not I also a native of the East Land? Why speakest thou so well of it as though it were the best of all lands? Knoweth thou not that there abideth nothing good there? Art not the men there troubled with fancy? Are not many sick and wearied of their lives there? What is there so special and unique in the East Land, that land of mortals, that thou so longeth for it?

Departed Soul: Why doest thou remind me so much of my youth, for such was the voice with which I spake. I never prized anything there. I never valued any of its great treasures especially time. For often times, I would soak myself in wine and run after the fair maidens of my people. But now do I regret those days I feasted away in ignorance. Truly did the ancient declare that we do not know what we have untill we finally part with them.

Oh, that I were to have a new beginning, then would I undo all my folly and then pursue hard after the God of Abraham. Then would I treasure every time that passes by, and then give all diligence to excel in virtue. Then would I bear my cross so patiently after Christ, and pay obeisance to His Word.

Servant: Art not these the promises of all men in distress? Thou dost not move an inch of my pity, for such is the nature of man. He maketh fair promises today, and parteth with them tomorrow. But seeing that thou so desireth the East Land, I shall take thee with me back home and restore thee to thy family that thou mayest gain some sucour.

Departed Soul: Why speaketh thou so vain, o thou mortal? Knowest thou not that I have been banished away from time and cannot go back to it again? Seest thou not that I am in great misery? Why art thy consolations so bitter? I wonder how bad an influence thou wilt be to thy mortal friends.

Servant: I mean not to trouble thee, oh thou native of yonder world, for I only spake the things in my heart. Please pardon me, my father, if thou taketh offence in my words.

Departed Soul: And why shouldest I be angry at a mortal man who still has power in his hands to do and undo.

Servant: Why dost thou keep referring to me as great and powerful? I have told thee I am only a servant on an errand and yet thou still calleth me great. What bitter mocking is this? Why speakest thou so all the time? Do not I serve another man and his family? Do not I only run errands and cook meals? Tell me, what power is there thou seest in my hand? Declare thou unto me for I awaiteth an answer.

Departed Soul: Great indeed art thou but thou so disregardeth thyself. Have not you time in thy hands? Have not you grace in thy arms? Are not days so sweet and mild before thee? Have not you power to loose and bind them that offendeth thee? Have not you a will to make a choice; either good or bad? Is it not in the power of thy hands to pursue the affairs of thy heart? Are not these the things that pronounceth thee great?

Servant: Thou have said nothing special to me? Thou hast declared no wisdom at all. None of my brethren will get excited at these words. The things thou declarest to me are the common lot of all men. The rich and the poor hast them alike; the great and the small altogether. It maketh none special.

Departed Soul: Truly, thou art a mortal man. For the living knoweth not what they have until they finally part with them. Such is the plight of you mortals. Thou do not properly prize the things which thou have until thou finally part with them. Exactly so was I few years ago, till I finally gathered my feet into the bed. But now do I regret the tragic loss of those fair moments I spent after trifles. How I wish I were in thy shoes. Then would I have undone my wrongs.

Servant: But sayeth who to you that thou cannot undo thy wrong? The time to do penance has never been too late. You can still repent of thy evil and turn unto God for He is too merciful and kind.

Departed Soul: Shall a dead man repent of his evil? Shall a man of yonder world do penance and pursue after God? Is not that an exclusive right of the living? Why darken you counsel with words without knowledge? Tis only in the land of the living, that prayer is heard; not in yonder world. Tis only in the East Land that mercy is found and grace obtained. For the dead obtaineth not mercy nor do they penance.

Servant: Why dost thy words penetrate my heart so hard? Why troublest thou my spirit with this wisdom? Meaneth thou to say that them of the West Land obtaineth not mercy nor do penances? Speaketh thou in earnest that grace abideth not in yonder world? Speaketh thou so?

Departed Soul: Yes my son, so speaketh I. For there in the yonder world, men hast no eloquence to speak nor cry out as thy brethren do in the East Land. We of rhe West Land are not pitied as men in thy land are. Tis a place of harvest.

Servant: And what harvest thee there? Please declare thou unto me, for now are my ears curious to hear this novelty.

Departed Soul: The things which we harvest art the things we sowed back on earth, the East Land. Tis in yonder world we harvest the fruits of our works. For as many as sowed corruption in life, reapeth corruption there. And them also that sowed anger and bitterness, reapeth the same there. I, even I, reapeth the things which I sowed on earth. Though very little were the hatred and envy I sowed in life, I reapeth them in abundance in yonder world. So do I same for my lust and slothfulness. For wherein a man hast sinned, there also is he punished. I, for one, was a lover of women and pleasures. Often times, I would chase hard after the fair maidens of my brethren and uncover their nakedness in bed. I would lie with them throughout the evenings until the breaking of day; delighting myself in sexual pleasure. For a week passeth not that I disvirgin not a maiden. But now do I pay dearly for my evils. Though mustards(little) were the seeds I sowed, the tree that springeth from them proveth to be exceedingly great and its fruits numerous.

Servant: Oh My father, My father, wilt thou conceal thy doom from me? Wouldest thou declare to me the pains which thou suffereth in the yonder world. Tell me how thou art made to pay for thy lustfulness and evils that I may instruct my tender and youthful heart thereby.

Departed Soul: My son, since I were a man of sexual delight and hard wine, I am forced to reap the fruits thereof. For now are my loins set ablaze on unquenchable heat; and my loins do hurt crazily for pleasure for which a thousand maiden cannot satiate nor gratify. Now am I tormented with hunger for sex, of which the maidens of the universe combined cannot bring the slightest relief. Now is my gluttonous throat so desperate for hard wine and flaming liquor of which the breweries of the world at large cannot succor. Now hast the bitterness and injuries swelled up which I never forgave nor pardoned. They do attack me day and night for refusing to let them go on earth. For wherein I have sinned, there also am I troubled.

Servant: Great indeed are thy trouble, Oh my father. See what great tears thou hast triggered on my cheeks. Is not thy plight so distressful. Why hast thou made me so sorrowful this night, being a dark night?

Departed Soul: Shall thou be sorrowful for a man of yonder world? Shall thou show pity to he who hast parted with time? Weep thou my son for thyself and for thy brethren at home. For though thou hast time to thyself, thou lettest it slip from thy hands.

Servant: What refrainest thou then from teaching me wisdom? Instruct me then my father, that I also may instruct my brethren at home. For now have thou restored the light I had at birth. For now see I clearly the power which resteth in the hands of mortals.

Departed Soul: If thou sayeth so, then shouldest I not ask thee again? What is it there thou wieldeth in thy hands?

Servant: Time, my father, Time. Now seest I that there is time in my hands.

Departed Soul: Thou speaketh well my son. Then do I admonish thee to go make good use of thy time. Seek always to occupy thy time in the presence of God for there only art thou bound to fulfill all righteousness. Hold on well unto time for it slippeth from thee as thou playeth. Reckon no time as useless, for they all counteth in the order and sequence of thy salvation. Thou shouldest also know that every little second that passes by thee is loaded with obligations which the Lord has assigned to it with his own hands of which thou shalt be held accountable. My son, thou ought to be wise. Never think that thou loseth time by doing nothing, for verily I say unto thee, that thou also loseth time by doing things other than that which thou oughtest to do though it be profitable. I admonish thee to be discreet, my son. Today is what belongeth to thee. To- morrow might not abide for thee.

Servant: Great art the words of wisdom thou declarest unto me. But are there not many in the East Land that reckon not unto the voice of time?

Departed Soul: Wherefore does eternity also not reckon their voice of pain after death.

Servant: Speak thou on to me, my father. Shall not I also learn from thee? Teach me more, I pray thee.

Departed Soul: Then shall I also ask thee again. What seest thou above thy heads?

Servant: The heavens, my father. Tis the heavens I have above my heads.

Departed Soul: And what treadest thou on the ground back in thy land (that land of mortals)?

Servant: I treadest on the countless graves of departed brethren of which thou art a part? Such art the things we treadeth upon on the ground clays and stones and bones.

Departed Soul: Wherefore art thy warnings above and beneath. The heavens do warn thee above so do the countless grave beneath. And so with thy right ear, I admonish thee to hearken unto the glad tidings from heaven and with thy left ear, I strongly conjure thee to hearken unto the sorrows that spring from beneath. If thou shalt pay heed to these warnings, thou shouldest escape the sorrows in yonder world, when time banishes you from life.

Servant: Henceforth shall I hearken to the voice beneath and above. For many atimes, I turneth deaf ears to the voice of reason.

Departed Soul: My son, now also shall I caution thee to be watchful. Thou ought to treasure thy days and reckon each morning as a gift from heaven. For now is thy time to pray, now thy time to do penances, now thy time to obtain mercy, now thy time to embrace love, now thy time to confess thy guilt, now thy time to worship and adore God and now thy time to fulfill all thy fair promises. Because in death, men doest not these. Tis only in the land of the living that prayer is heard and sin, forgiven. If thou prayeth not today, then I knoweth not when. If thou doeth not penances today, then I knoweth not when. NOW is thy time, my son. NOW, I say is the prime time, for in death everything ceases to be as we only clasp our hands over the chest.

Servant: What holy errand have I run today for my master? What blessed night hast this proven to be? For this day have I met with wisdom and shouldest not I drink of it till I am full? Shall I not also covet the best gifts? Bid me, father, bid me. Abideth there anything that shouldest I also know or learn beside these numerous counsels? What say you more to me?

Departed Soul: My son, always forget not to forgive them that offendeth thee. If a man shall offend thee a thousand times, I conjure thee to forgive him a thousand times. Tell all thy brethren at home to forgive every man his neighbor. Pursue after peace before thy neighbors bid thee ‘rest in peace’. Forget not also to be charitable. For the smiles thou puttest on sorrowful cheeks, the strength thou pusheth into rendered hearts, the tenacity thou injecteth into feeble knees, the love thou rendereth to the weaker brethren, the clothes thou dasheth out to naked bodies, the meals thou serveth before the hungry, the alms thou givest out unto beggars, the comfort thou affordest strangers, the pity thou bestoweth upon the aged, the healing thou dispenseth to bruised feet, the motivation thou sendeth out to dull minds and the visits thou payeth to orphaned homes may all seem unrecognizable and unappreciative. But they will all surface in the evening of the world and then WIN CROWNS FOR THY HEAD. So bid I thee, that grow not weary of well-doing. Always prepare thyself since thou knoweth not when the hour of thy departure shall be. Just learn wisdom from the misfortune of others and thou shalt be at peace.

Servant: Alas! Alas! For I am undone. The tidings which I heareth art so great and mighty, and woe is me if I pay not obeisance to them. Shall I then not fall into greater condemnation having heard these words of wisdom and later forsake them for trifles? Help me O Lord I pray thee, to always regulate my life that death findeth me not unprepared.

Oh! Would that my mortal friends were here to hear what the man of yonder world hast declared? Wont they not have hearkened unto him, being once a native of our land until eternity sent him on a journey to the far West Land? Today, knoweth I indeed that there is power in the hands of the living. This moment knoweth I indeed that the land of the living is the choicest of all lands below here. For how could I have been so foolish to take things so lightly.

Departed Soul: I leave thee to thyself, my son, for I need to return to my home afar. But do not forget to pursue after peace before thy neighbors bid thee “rest in peace”. For someday, shall thou also join me in yonder world. Go prepare thyself at home, for time abideth not on thy side. Farewell, my son, farewell till we meet again at the other side. Aeternum Vale.

 

HOW BEAUTIFUL IT IS TO BE ALIVE!
By Henry Septimus Sutton

How beautiful it is to be alive!

To wake each morn as if the Maker's grace

Did us afresh from nothingness derive

That we might sing 'How happy is our case!

How beautiful it is to be alive!'

 

To read in GOD's great Book, until we feel

Love for the love that gave it; then to kneel

Close unto Him Whose truth our souls will shrive,

While every moment's joy doth more reveal

How beautiful it is to be alive.

 

Rather to go without what might increase

Our worldly standing, than our souls deprive

Of frequent speech with GOD, or than to cease

To feel, through having wasted health or peace,

How beautiful it is to be alive.

 

Not to forget, when pain and grief draw nigh,

Into the ocean of time past to dive

For memories of GOD's mercies, or to try

To bear all sweetly, hoping still to cry

'How beautiful it is to be alive!'

 

Thus ever towards man's height of nobleness

Strive still some new progression to contrive;

Till, just as any other friend's, we press

Death's hand; and, having died, feel none the less

How beautiful it is to be alive.

 

YOUTH
By Thomas Lord Vaux

When I look back, and in myself behold

The wandering ways, that youth could not descry:

And mark'd the fearful course that youth did hold,

And met in mind each step youth stray'd awry;

My knees I bow, and from my heart I call,

O LORD, forget these faults and follies all!

 

For now I see, how void youth is of skill,

I see also his prime time and his end:

I do confess my faults and all my ill,

And sorrow sore, for that I did offend.

And with a mind repentant of all crimes

Pardon I ask for youth, ten thousand times.

 

The humble heart hath daunted the proud mind;

Eke wisdom hath given ignorance a fall:

And wit hath taught, that folly could not find,

And age hath youth her subject and her thrall.

Therefore I pray, O LORD of life and truth,

Pardon the faults committed in my youth.

 

Thou that didst grant the wise king his request:

Thou that in Whale Thy prophet didst preserve:

Thou that forgav'st the wounding of Thy breast:

Thou that didst save the thief in state to sterve:

Thou only GOD, the giver of all grace:

Wipe out of mind the path of youth's vain race

 

THE LIVING AND THE DEAD
By James Montgomery

Where are the dead? In heaven or hell,

Their disembodied spirits dwell;

Their buried forms in bonds of clay,

Reserved until the judgment day.

 

Who were the dead? The sons of time

In every age, and state, and clime;

Renown'd, dishonour'd, or forgot,

The place that knew them, knows them not.

 

Where are the living? on the ground,

Where prayer is heard, and mercy found;

Where, in the period of a span,

The mortal makes the immortal man.

 

Who are the living? They whose breath

Draws every moment nigh to death;

Of bliss or woe the eternal heirs;

O what an awful choice is theirs!

 

Then timely warn'd, may we begin

To follow Christ, and flee from sin;

Daily grow up in Him our Head,

Lord of the living and the dead.