Contemplating mortality or thinking about the inevitability of death, can have a profound effect on how we live our lives. Can we be real for just a moment, the human mind struggles to grasp such a topic, finding it difficult even to engage with it. Someone once said "We are all familiar with the effects of constant repetition—how endless reiteration dulls our attention. But beyond that, this profound truth seems to lose its impact due to the overwhelming certainty and conviction with which it is accepted. Its very clarity diminishes its ability to stir deep reflection. Instead of actively influencing thought, it lingers in the mind, unchallenged and unquestioned, almost as though it has settled into inertia. If doubt were introduced, it might spark genuine interest and provoke contemplation.
Another reason this solemn call—to be earnest about our highest concerns—often fails to resonate is its universality. It applies equally to everyone; I am no more personally affected by it than the millions around me. Furthermore, too little effort is made to bring into close view the two realities that govern our existence: the tangible world we perceive with our senses and the unseen world we must approach through faith. We live within the confines of this brief earthly life, yet we must also acknowledge the eternal one that awaits. The joys and struggles of mortality are fleeting, whereas the consequences of eternity endure. Without consciously comparing these realities in personal reflection, any directive to “be earnest” inevitably loses its force.
Additionally, the mind tends to exploit the obscurity of faith’s objects, finding refuge in its own limitations. Some even choose to thicken the veil of uncertainty, pushing the unknown into complete darkness as a means to justify avoidance. They argue, “We cannot extend our thoughts into that realm. It is an enigma, a vast and unknowable expanse. If that reality were revealed now, it would disrupt everything here. Isn't it best to focus on our present duties and trust that when the time comes, God will show us what lies beyond?” Such reasoning, though partially true, fosters complacency and excuses neglect, weakening the urgency of earnestness in spiritual matters.
Another common deception diminishes this call to seriousness: the failure to recognize life’s overarching purpose within its individual moments. A man may think, “This day is insignificant, just a fleeting part of a much greater whole.” But this belief allows procrastination, delaying genuine reflection and action.
One last illusion provides false comfort: the vague yet persistent assurance that somehow, despite his inaction, a man’s salvation is guaranteed simply because it is too important to be lost. He may say, “I am not reckless. Surely, I will not lose my soul.” As if nature itself would prevent such a disastrous fate. Some find reassurance in past events, believing that a moment of divine intervention—a near escape from death, the prayers of devoted friends—must signify protection. These deceptive notions cultivate an unfounded confidence that religion will become a priority eventually, even though no serious effort is being made now.
Lastly, there exists a careless reliance on God’s infinite mercy—a passive assumption that, regardless of one’s neglect, grace will ultimately prevail. This unreflective dependence dismisses the earnest warnings, allowing the soul’s highest concerns to remain indefinitely postponed.
