"Death is the only adventure you have left."-Capt. James Hook
"You will not surely die."
-A certain snake
In the past day or so, I've begun to reflect a bit on death. Yesterday, one within hours of the other, I received a phone call telling me that the father of an old friend died suddenly and an e-mail telling me about the final episode of the HBO series Six Feet Under.
I've never watched the series in question, but from what I understand it is/was a show focused upon the life of a family that runs a funeral home. As my cousin commented, an important part of the show revolves around our society's discomfort with death and related matters.
She told me that at the end of this series finale, there was a montage that showed each of the characters' future deaths. I can only imagine what it must be like to see each of the people you've known and grown to enjoy each week on the television suddenly die before your eyes in the space of a few minutes.
Powerful, I think. And honest.
Honest because that is how life is. Because death is a part of life. Because those we have grown to love in ways far more real and intimate than a television screen could ever provide will die one day. Because parents and friends and children die.
I've never watched the series in question, but from what I understand it is/was a show focused upon the life of a family that runs a funeral home. As my cousin commented, an important part of the show revolves around our society's discomfort with death and related matters.
She told me that at the end of this series finale, there was a montage that showed each of the characters' future deaths. I can only imagine what it must be like to see each of the people you've known and grown to enjoy each week on the television suddenly die before your eyes in the space of a few minutes.
Powerful, I think. And honest.
Honest because that is how life is. Because death is a part of life. Because those we have grown to love in ways far more real and intimate than a television screen could ever provide will die one day. Because parents and friends and children die.
They leave us behind.
And I don't know if we're ever really prepared for them to be gone. I mean, I guess we should be. We know that death is a real possibility for all of us. Especially those who are older than we are. We know they are going to be gone one day but still we put it out of our minds. We just can't think of it.
We don't like to think about death because it is painful. So much is unknown about it...and the little we do know is simply that it takes those we love away from us and will one day take us away from this place as well.
We come up with pleasant euphemisms like "they passed away" or "he's gone" when the truth is much sharper and more difficult than that. It is something, I think, that we need to be more honest about. Far too often we can distract ourselves from what is really at stake. From what life is about. From how important and serious a part of life death really is.
Sure, our use of language can make us feel better in the here and now and we can close our eyes to what death is...but every now and then something happens in our life that makes death very clear to us. Recalls to our mind the fact that death is an enemy as fierce as any other we face. Makes us remember, as the Scripture says, that we are dust.
You see, it is in these moments, no matter how painful, that we can begin to see things we wouldn't--or that we couldn't--until we face death ourselves.
These flashes of truth--though painful and sorrowful and terrifying--might be able to make us see our lives for the first time.
Might be able to make us think.
We don't like to think about death because it is painful. So much is unknown about it...and the little we do know is simply that it takes those we love away from us and will one day take us away from this place as well.
We come up with pleasant euphemisms like "they passed away" or "he's gone" when the truth is much sharper and more difficult than that. It is something, I think, that we need to be more honest about. Far too often we can distract ourselves from what is really at stake. From what life is about. From how important and serious a part of life death really is.
Sure, our use of language can make us feel better in the here and now and we can close our eyes to what death is...but every now and then something happens in our life that makes death very clear to us. Recalls to our mind the fact that death is an enemy as fierce as any other we face. Makes us remember, as the Scripture says, that we are dust.You see, it is in these moments, no matter how painful, that we can begin to see things we wouldn't--or that we couldn't--until we face death ourselves.
These flashes of truth--though painful and sorrowful and terrifying--might be able to make us see our lives for the first time.
Might be able to make us think.
4 comments:
No doubt, Josh, Death is a painful experience. But it doesn't mean that there is nothing good and comforting in it. Death is not the end, it is a sublimation. This life is a mist, and we all pass into and out of it. The result is an adventure. Sometimes it might help to think of it the Lewis portrayed in The Great Divorce. In any case, that always helps me with the pain of such a great loss. Does it make it joyful? Not necesarily. It may make it bearable. We will always miss the laughs of those we love, the smiles, the joy of making up after an argument, the memories of realizing that this is someone we love. Few things, if any, can replace this. But we must look forward with the knowledge that this person, so long as they knew Jesus, is not gone. They are, in fact, more real and more permanent, more powerful and more pure, than we are here. This makes me happy for them, which, if our love for them is real, makes it easier to accept.
i'm reminded of an experience about nine years ago - a good friend of mine came into the shop where i was employed after a period of some absence. we caught up, shot the breeze, and marvelled at the fact that things were'nt as simple as they used to be... life was demanding more of us - it was the blissful sort of pseudo-intellectual, post high-school optimism that one feels when the world is wide open. both of us felt that our lives were heading (for the first time) toward something bigger than ourselves - some unknown greatness just beyond the veil that you only get glimpses of... ben drowned three days later. it was an incredibly sobering time. i don't have much more to write - you've just reminded me of him.
Livolsi--
I understand what you are saying.
Death is not THE end. But it is A end. I just don't want to move past that painful fact too quickly.
Your post did remind me of a verse somewhere that says that we do not mourn as the pagans do, who have no hope. I think that's a verse. It sounds versical.
But perhaps in mourning, those who have no hope can understand their need for it all the more.
Good--
First off, good to hear from you. I see from your wife's journal that you've arrived safely in Ireland. Awesome!
I look forward to and appreciate your thoughts. Thank you for sharing them.
And I hope to visit you soon, my friend. Let me know how I can pray for you and Jill.
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