Memento Mori

November 7, 2007

In paintings of medieval scholars, they are often shown in their studies with a human skull on their desk. Such was the practice of the day, and the scholars would refer to the skull as their "memento mori", or their reminder of their own mortality, their death. There's no denying that cancer is a memento mori.

The type of cancer I have is like eating breakfast every morning with a ravenous wolf seated across the table from you, restrained by a chain. You sit there in the pre-dawn hours, munching on your Cheerios and staring at the wolf, who is snarling and growling, but can't get to you - for now. The two of you sit and stare at each other, and as he salivates, you know he isn't thinking about those cheery little O's of oats in your milk bowl and spoon. And there are other things you know, too...

But mementos mori (momentii mori?) are good things. Solomon was aware of this when he penned the words,

It is better to go to a house of mourning

Than to go to a house of feasting,

Because that is the end of every man,

And the living takes it to heart. (Ecclesiastes 7:2)

A memento mori makes you savor every sip of coffee. For a believer in Christ, a memento mori makes every joy is that much greater, every trouble that much smaller, as you view them more through a lens of eternity. You realize that temporal things and are only temporary, and eternal things are, well, eternal. You are forced to number your days, and that should cause you to present to God a heart of wisdom.

I would not wish cancer upon anyone, not even my worst enemy, if I had one, unless it would be used by God to draw him to salvation. I do, however, hope you can find some memento mori to help you place eternity in its proper perspective (but, uh, for the record, that human skull on the desk is a pretty tacky idea).