If you ever explore some of the old churches in Europe, or look over art from the old days, you’ll notice quite a few skulls.
Some of which are even attached to skeletons. They show up in some of the most unexpected places: on clocks, or in Cathedrals, for instance, or in the famous painting The Ambassadors, which features a distorted skull that only comes into perspective when viewed from the lower left. These are often supplemented by various grotesqueries and monsters decorating the church façade or capering about the pictures.
The message of all of this is the same; “don’t be complacent, but remember your death and what might await you beyond. That night of death is full of terrible things just waiting to grab hold of you, so take care before you find yourself venturing out into it.”
In other words, Christians have been doing Halloween, and doing it properly, for a long time. The macabre is as much a part of our heritage as anything else; it is the other side to the hope we have in Christ.
Therefore, the common call of Christians of the past was Memento Mori: Remember Death. As the prophet wrote in his book, “In all thy works, remember your last end, and thou shalt never sin,” and “Remember that death is not slow.” (Sirach 7:40, 14:12).
We don’t like thinking of death these days.
We pride ourselves on how long we can evade the reaper, how many ingenious strategies we’ve derived for slipping the grip of those bony fingers for as long as possible. In fact, we delight in this so much that we tend to miss the most important point; that no one evades him forever.
100% of the human race either has died or will die (ambiguous cases like Elijah and Enoch not withstanding). An unknown percentage will rise again to eternal life, but death comes first.
It is a most healthy practice to keep this before our eyes. Particularly on the eve of our celebrations of All the Saints, who triumphed over death, and of All the Souls, whose fate we are destined to share.
Now, what does this grim subject have to do with dating? Quite a bit, actually.
We are dating, presumably, to find our partner in life; one who will, among other things, help us to prepare for our journey to that far country from which no traveler returns. It may, therefore, be advisable to consider our last end during the process.
And what better time to do it than Halloween, when a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of ghosts and skeletons?
Therefore, I’m going to propose a rather unusual, but most Christian and most timely kind of date: go spend part of the day (or the night if you want to do it properly) in a graveyard together. Walk up and down the tombs, reading the names of the deceased and their dates. Speculate on their lives and experiences. Consider how many died young, and consider what things they who died old lived to see. Perhaps seek out your own ancestors, if they are about.
Which raises the question; what do you really know about your family?
Along with—or as an alternative to—the graveyard visit, maybe go dig out some of your family history. What did your forefathers do? Where did they come from? What do you suppose they would think of you now?
For this is the other side of Memento Mori: we don’t just recall our own deaths, but we recall all those who have already died, and what they have left for us. You see, though we speak of ‘starting’ a family, we are none of us exactly starting anything; we are continuing a family. Adam and Eve are the only couple that ever really started anything: the rest of us are just carrying on.
Considering your own mortality, you naturally ought to be dwelling also on what you will leave behind. You have, and are, the legacy of your ancestors; what will be yours?
In other words, meditating on death puts our lives into context. It causes us to consider where we’ve come from and where we are going. It shows the petty concerns of day-to-day life for what they are and makes us consider what is actually important. Whether you’re just starting out in a relationship or have been together for years, this is a useful exercise in perspective.
So, this Halloween—or thereabouts—consider taking your beloved on a trip to the graveyard, and think about what you want your lives to ultimately have meant when the two of you are lying together under a stone like this with grass growing overhead.
