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Month of the Holy Souls (Day 4)

November 04, 2026

Fr. John Colacino C.PP.S.

Day 4

A reading from the Book of Wisdom (4:7-15)

The just man, though he die early,
     shall be at rest.
For the age that is honorable comes not
     with the passing of time,
     nor can it be measured in terms of years.
Rather, understanding is the hoary crown for men,
     and an unsullied life, the attainment of old age.
He who pleased God was loved;
     he who lived among sinners was transported–
Snatched away, lest wickedness pervert his mind
     or deceit beguile his soul;
For the witchery of paltry things obscures what is right
     and the whirl of desire transforms the innocent mind.
Having become perfect in a short while,
     he reached the fullness of a long career;
     for his soul was pleasing to the LORD,
     therefore he sped him out of the midst of wickedness.
But the people saw and did not understand,
     nor did they take this into account.

From Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche by Carl Jung (1961)

I have often been asked what I believe about death, that un-problematical ending of individual existence. Death is known to us simply as the end. It is the period, often placed before the close of the sentence and followed only by memories or aftereffects in others. For the person concerned, however, the sand has run out of the glass; the rolling stone has come to rest. When death confronts us, life always seems like a downward flow or like a clock that has been wound up and whose eventual “running down” is taken for granted. We are never more convinced of this “running down” than when a human life comes to its end before our eyes, and the question of the meaning and worth of life never becomes more urgent or more agonizing than when we see the final breath leave a body which a moment before was living….

Natural life is the nourishing soil of the soul. Anyone who fails to go along with life remains suspended, stiff and rigid in midair. That is why so many people get wooden in old age; they look back and cling to the past with a secret fear of death in their hearts. They withdraw from the life-process, at least psychologically, and consequently remain fixed like nostalgic pillars of salt, with vivid recollections of youth but no living relation to the present. From the middle of life onward, only he remains vitally alive who is ready to die with life. For in the secret hour of life’s midday the parabola is reversed, death is born. The second half of life does not signify ascent, unfolding, increase, exuberance, but death, since the end is its goal. The negation of life’s fulfilment is synonymous with the refusal to accept its ending. Both mean not wanting to live, and not wanting to live is identical with not wanting to die. Waxing and waning make one curve….

In my rather long psychological experience I have observed a great many people whose unconscious psychic activity I was able to follow into the immediate presence of death. As a rule the approaching end was indicated by those symbols which, in normal life also, proclaim changes of psychological condition—rebirth symbols such as changes of locality, journeys, and the like. I have frequently been able to trace back for over a year, in a dream-series, the indications of approaching death, even in cases where such thoughts were not prompted by the outward situation. Dying, therefore, has its onset long before actual death. Moreover, this often shows itself in peculiar changes of personality which may precede death by quite a long time. On the whole, I was astonished to see how little ado the unconscious psyche makes of death. It would seem as though death were something relatively unimportant, or perhaps our psyche does not bother about what happens to the individual. But it seems that the unconscious is all the more interested in how one dies; that is, whether the attitude of consciousness is adjusted to dying or not.

Musical Selection

Antequam comedam suspiro,
et tanquam inundantes aquæ
sic rugitus meus:
quia timor,
quem timebam,
evenit mihi
et quod verebar
accidit mihi.

Nonne dissimulavi?
nonne silui?
nonne quievi?
Et venit super me
indignatio tua, Domine.

Ecce, non est auxilium mihi in me,
et necessarii quoque mei
recesserunt a me.

For sighing has become my daily food;
my groans pour out like water.
What I feared has come upon me;
what I dreaded has happened to me.
I have no peace, no quietness;
I have no rest, but only turmoil.

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