This slab used to be in the transept of the cathedral; the constant tread of feet wore much of it away; an incrustation of marble that represented a skeleton holding before it a brass plaque can still be seen; but the Flemish verses written on the metal can no longer be read. This is the inscription: "Take example from me, you who tread on me. I was once like you; but now I am stretched out beneath your feet. Neither advice, nor art, nor medicine, have helped me. My name was Hubert van Eyck. Now I am the prey of worms."
Someone deciphered it - this form is perhaps somewhat simplified, but I can easily remember it. Even while alive the human body has little value; with the fat that it contains one could make, at the most, a few pieces of soap; with its iron, a little key; the rest is in proportion. Reduced to its principal elements the whole, well paid for, is not worth more than ninety-six cents.
Fortunately there is a soul! Ponder over this thought, the price of the soul.
Without doubt I must not ridicule my brother the body too much. I must give it the place it deserves, but even after having become a religious; after having renounced the comforts of the body. . . do I not give the body more than its due?
"In this month of the dead, give me light, O my God, to esteem this envelope of flesh which binds my soul at its right value. Grant that I may never come to any important decision in the future, without having first asked myself, according to the counsel of St. Ignatius, what I would wish to have done, at the hour of my death."_________________
Adapted from Meditations for Religious
by Father Raoul Plus, S.J. (© 1939, Frederick Pustet Co.)
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