On the Thought of Eternity

We are terrified at the thought of eternity, and in a certain sense we have great reason to be so, for this thought is indeed very terrible. But if we knew how to be frightened at it usefully, if we could draw from it, as a guide for our lives, the just conclusions which ought to arise from this fear, soon we should grow familiar with the thought of eternity, and we should end by taking pleasure in it and finding consolation in it. For if this thought has its terrible side, it has also a consoling side, and an extremely consoling side. Since, then, this thought comes to us quite naturally, since it is associated so closely with our ideas of God and of religion that the two cannot be separated, since it is impossible for us to get rid of this idea, so that in spite of ourselves it pursues us everywhere, it is of the greatest importance that we should look at it as we ought to do, in order that it may only inspire us at first with a salutary fear, and afterwards, far from troubling us, it may only inspire us with courage and joy.

The thought of eternity terrifies, and ought to terrify, those who are the slaves of their passions, and who are resolved to gratify those passions at any cost whatever. But since this troublesome thought embitters all their pleasures, instead of turning a deaf ear to it, as they do, and avoiding with care everything that can remind them of it, they ought calmly to examine from whence this thought springs; if it is not a serious and right thought, equally demonstrated by reason and revelation. And when they are once thoroughly convinced of the truth of it, it will be easy for them to go on to the conclusion that as they were not created for time, but for eternity, they are the most foolish and misguided of men to sacrifice their eternal happiness to objects that are passing away and that can never satisfy them. And from this conclusion to a perfect conversion to God there is only one step to make. For indeed, if eternity is real, what do they gain by blinding themselves to it and turning away from the remembrance of it? A truth upon which we will not think, and upon which we do not wish to think, is it any the less a truth for that? And if it is of the very greatest importance to us, do we lessen its importance by obstinately refusing to consider it?

The thought of eternity terrifies, and ought to terrify those who, without being hardened sinners and determined seekers after pleasure, are nevertheless too much attached to the things of this life and to life itself. But let them reflect that if they are destined to enjoy eternal things one day, it is towards those things that they should direct the desire of their hearts, and that all immoderate attachment to the things of this present life is a mistake. Let them think how unreasonable it is to love passionately that which incessantly escapes them, and which they must one day lose without hope of recovery, and to be cold and indifferent towards that which will last for ever and will for ever make their happiness or misery. If they would thus consider eternity it would be no longer for them an alarming object, but they would say to themselves: "I was not made for the things of this earth; why then do I take such an intense interest in them? Another life, which will never end, is to follow this life: why then do 1 not do everything in my power to secure the enjoyment of that unending felicity which religion promises me in that other life? " Then there would be no more eagerness to acquire the perishable goods of this world: we should make use of them according to the designs of God, but we should have no attachment to them; all the desires of our minds and hearts, all our affections, would be drawn towards eternity.

The thought of eternity also frightens those timid and half-hearted Christian souls who serve God more for their own interest than for His own sake, who fear Him more than they love Him, who are always uneasy about their salvation, and who wish to be certain about it, a certainty which it is impossible that they should ever have. " I may perhaps be lost after all," they say to themselves; "I may be eternally miserable; I do not know whether I am in a state of grace or not; I do not know if I shall not die in mortal sin." And these kind of thoughts freeze them, fill them with consternation, and plunge them into depression and despair. It is quite contrary to the intentions of God that they should trouble themselves in this manner, and the thought of eternity was never meant to produce such an effect as this. Let them be persuaded that God loves them more than they love themselves, that He desires their salvation more than they can desire it, that the means of securing it are in their own hands, that they have only to make a good use of those means, and after that they may leave the care of their eternal interests to God in the utmost peace and tranquillity. They do not see that this excessive fear comes from self-love, and from their referring everything to themselves instead of to God. As to their salvation, they only think of it as far as their own interest is concerned; it is not the love of God, the glory of God, the will of God, which is their end and their centre it is their own happiness, and that as it affects themselves. Let them at once correct this disorder; let them raise themselves a little above the thought of themselves only, and without neglecting their own interests, let them subordinate them to a far greater interest, which is God's interest: soon love will take the place of fear, they will put all their trust in God; they will expect their salvation, not for their own merits, but from the goodness and mercy of God; they will serve Him in peace, and the thought of eternity will terrify them no longer.

But it is not enough that this thought should not bring us fear and discouragement; it ought to become sweet and consoling to us, in such a manner that the soul should love to remember it, that she should never even lose sight of it, and that she should make use of it to support her and to animate her courage in all the crosses and evils of this present life. And what must she do to attain this? She must be penetrated with this thought of Saint Paul: "Our light afflictions, which are only for a moment, will obtain for us an immense and eternal weight of glory."

"What is this present life?" we ought to say to ourselves. "A time of trial, in which I may merit an eternal happiness. God has created me for the eternal possession of Himself that is to say, of the Source and the Centre of all good. What a destiny for a being drawn from nothing! How great, how far superior to all our thoughts and desires! How, after that, can I lower myself to the things of this earth? how can I attach myself to them? how can I condescend to look at them? I am born for that which is eternal, and I suffer myself to be enslaved by that which is passing away. I am born to possess God, and I give my heart to creatures!

"But God wishes to give me this eternal possession of Himself by way of reward. And what does He ask of me in return? He asks that here below I should occupy myself with the thought of the happiness of one day possessing Him; that when I consider such a great benefit, such a sublime destiny, I should adore Him and love Him and serve Him with my whole heart. He asks that if ever I have the misfortune to offend Him, I should return to Him at once; that I should listen in the inmost depths of my soul for His voice, which will call me back to my duty. He asks that, in the hope of this blessed eternity, I should suffer willingly and for the love of Him all the troubles of this present life, and that I should despise its false pleasures, or only use them with the greatest moderation, according to His will. This is all He asks of me."

Now, can there be a sweeter thought or a more consoling thought than that of eternity looked on in this light? Is there one more fitted to raise the soul above herself, above the delusions of this deceitful world, above all the temptations and difficulties she may meet with in the practice of virtue? Everything I may have to suffer in this life, privations, mortifications, crosses of every kind, even if it were to last for a hundred years, or for a thousand years what is all that in comparison with eternity? My sufferings, if they were a thousand times greater, are only light evils when weighed in the balance against the immense weight of glory and felicity which is waiting for me.

Take courage, then, my soul! Everything that passes is nothing when it is once over. I ought not to count as true good or true evil anything but that which lasts for ever. The deprivation of this pleasure saves me from an eternity of misery; what would its enjoyment have cost me? The practice of this virtue which costs me so much will procure for me a good that is boundless and unending.

Is there one evil that such a thought as this cannot sweeten, one temptation that it cannot vanquish, one act of virtue that it cannot make easy? Why then should we have such a great fear of eternity, since it is the greatest motive for consolation we can have in this life; the most sublime and the most encouraging motive?

"What effect will this have on eternity?" a great saint used to say. "Will this contribute to my eternal happiness, or will it endanger it?" This is a rule of conduct that is very safe and very decisive, and that can be applied to every circumstance of life. Let us make up our minds to follow this rule, let us call it to our recollection every day, let us familiarise ourselves with it, and then we shall live in this world as though we were already dwellers in eternity, and we shall taste its delights in advance, through the peace of our conscience and the joy and satisfaction of acting in all things according to the teaching of reason and religion and the will of God.

- taken from Manual for Interior Souls, by Father Jean Nicolas Grou