4 questions to ask at the end of your life

Perched atop the steps of Rome’s Piazza di Spagna, the church of Santa Maria della Concecione is less visually appealing than other grand cathedrals. But when you enter the basement of the cathedral, the story is different. If St. Peter’s is covered with small mosaic pieces, this is because this cathedral is decorated with human bones that have lost their color with the passage of time. An altar made of thousands of human vertebrae, a semi-circular arch made of hundreds of skulls, a chandelier made of small bones that must have been hand or leg bones, and a skull of a child with all the bones intact, including the head and limbs on the ceiling. He hangs with his bony hand holding the scales of justice. When I see monks who seem to come out of a game called Diablo, it seems that they will wake up and attack me at any time.

Just as I thought of the game when I saw the picture of this temple, now this skull temple seems to be just a spectacle for many visitors, like a set for a Hollywood movie. However, perhaps because of pity for humans, this temple does not allow humans to pass by the self portrayed in a human body. Between the piles of skulls, the cathedral conveys the message it wants to convey in the following words.

Once they were like you,

One day you will be like them too.

For humans, uncertainty is risk. Maybe that’s why we live as if we’ll live forever, forgetting the following stern truth as if we’re fighting against that uncertainty.

that I will die someday

That my time will one day end.

Not long ago, I went to Yongin Peace Forest to meet my close friend. A year ago, a friend had an accident of injustice. I’ve seen a lot of crying at funerals, but I don’t think I’ve ever cried as crazily as I did then. The three children of a friend who were left behind are still trodden in my eyes.

A year later, standing in front of that friend, I didn’t feel the ‘sadness’ of that time. No, it was sad in a different way.

Sadness for not being sad.

But when I stood in front of my friend, I realized again that my time in this world would come to an end someday. Seeing my daughter running out laughing, ignoring the never-quiet weight of sadness weighing down the forest of tranquility, made her heart skip a beat for some reason.

It hurts, but it hurts…

Sometimes we need to ponder our end.

The silent message sent by the silent remains of the cathedral is not an admonition to prepare for death, but an earnest petition to live a life faithfully and meaningfully.

In the book that I love so much, the main character, Harold, asks himself four questions at the end of his life.

1) “Have I made myself a deep being? In a culture of instant communication, where it is easy to live superficially, did I spend my time on important things while developing my most essential talents?”

2) “Have I added to the river of knowledge? What legacy have you left for future generations?”

3) “Have I transcended this secular world?”

4) “Did I love?”

Today, I throw it at myself. These four questions…