In the medieval monastery no one died alone, and no one who died was forgotten. The care of the dying was the last and most solemn work of the infirmary, and the monastery surrounded it with a liturgy of its own.

When a brother’s illness turned toward death, a priest of the community gave him the anointing of the sick, praying over him and anointing him with holy oil. He received Holy Communion for the last time, as viaticum—food for the journey. As death drew near, the prayers for the dying were read at his side: the litany of the saints, and the commendation of the soul, which sends the dying person forth in the name of the Father who created him, the Son who redeemed him, and the Spirit who sanctified him.

In many monasteries a further custom marked the final hour. Sackcloth was spread on the ground and ashes were strewn upon it, often in the form of a cross, and the dying brother was lifted from his bed and laid upon it. He left the world as he had been taught to live in it: as dust, and as one marked with the cross. At the sound of the wooden board the whole community gathered around him and sang the psalms, and they went on singing until he had died, so that his last breath was drawn within the prayer of his brothers.

These rites were the work of the priest. The infirmarian did not anoint and did not give the sacrament; his part was to prepare and to call. He watched for the signs that the time had come, sent for the priest, set out the oil, the light, and the cross, made ready the sackcloth and ashes, and gave the signal that brought the community. When it was over, he washed and clothed the body for burial and kept watch beside it until it was carried to the church.

Death did not end the monastery’s care. The brother’s name was written in the necrology, the book of the dead, under the day of his death. Each day in chapter the names belonging to that day were read aloud, so that the community would pray for them, and on each anniversary a Mass was offered. The necrology existed so that no one would be forgotten—not the great, not the obscure, not the brother who had died long before anyone now living had entered the house.

Monasteries also shared their dead. When a member of a community died, a messenger could be sent with a long roll of parchment from house to house. At each monastery the name was received, prayers were promised, and the community added its own dead and a line of its own before sending the roll on. In this way one brother could be prayed for in dozens of houses he had never seen.

Not everyone who died in a monastery had family inside its walls. Monks had parents, brothers, and sisters in the world, and lay benefactors, too, were sometimes cared for and buried by monasteries. Word of a death was sent to the family outside; kin were received at the burial and in the prayers that followed, and their own names could be entered beside those of the brothers.

At IHS Bethlehem Church, we bring a priest to the dying for the sacraments, arrange the funeral and memorial Masses, and write the name of the departed in our infirmary records, so that we pray for them on each anniversary of their death. When the family asks, we give them the record.