death stings

“But I found out everybody’s different – the same kind of different as me.  We’re all just regular folks walkin down the road God done set in front of us.  The truth about it is, whether we is rich or poor or somethin in between, this earth ain’t no final restin place.  So in a way, we is all homeless – just workin our way toward home.”

And with these words, Ron Hall and Denver Moore close out their book, Same Kind of Different As Me.  I’ve been wrestling with Denver’s final words since finishing the book earlier this week.  Is it true?  Are we all homeless?  Is each of us working our way home?

Death has become a reality for me on a number of levels recently: family members aging, friends coming down with horrific illnesses, young lives cut short by automobile accidents.  When we are faced with our own mortality and recognize how short our lives are the differences between us quickly disappear.  No matter our ethnicity, our socio-economic status; no matter what work we do or how we’ve impacted the world for good or ill, when death comes knocking, we all answer the door.

With these thoughts swirling through my head this week, I started rewatching The Lord of the Rings movies with my daughter.  We watched the first movie and I again sat through Frodo’s anguished lament at the course his life had taken: 

“I wish the ring had never come to me.  I wish none of this had happened.” 

To which wise, old Gandalf replies,

“So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide.

All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

Even with all of our advanced science, our wrinkle-free creams, our elite exercise regimens and dietary supplements, our lives are limited to the duration of these failing physical bodies.  Each day that we have we should live with the awareness that death is just around the corner – not with an attitude of worry and fear, but with an attitude of anticipation for the days we have.  We need to understand each day is a gift that will never come again and we must use each one to its fullest potential.

In addition, we believe that death is not the end.  Sorrow wounds.  Sickness hurts.  Death stings.  But death is not the end.  Death is the door that leads us home, as Denver Moore puts it.  Home.  What home?  Some people believe that home is a plane of existence or a form of reincarnation or a vast nothing.  As followers of Jesus Christ, we believe home is eternity spent with God.  We believe home is a place of safety and rest and hope.  Home is our final resting place where we will be reunited with those we love and cherish.

While we are in its midst, death can be a horrible thing.  Let’s call it like it is.  Death is awful and terrible.  And inevitable for us all.  So what are we going to do about it?  Do we shirk away and do all we can to avoid death?  Do we scream in defiance, pull out our hair, and spit in the face of death?

When death comes early and uncalled for, when crippling sickness takes hold, when sadness and depression invade, what response do we have?

We live.