Some Non-Morbid Musings on Death
A couple of days ago I went through about an hour of weeping. A cry-fest, if you will. Now, those who know me are not startled a bit by that revelation. My tears reside just below the surface, not waiting, but anticipating the next chance they have to escape. It was said of St. Francis that he had the gift of tears. I guess that makes him and I some kind of kin.
This, however, was not my normal get teary at a moment of joy or lament. It was a level up from that. It was more related to convulsing or even heaving. To make it even stranger, I was alone sitting in my living room, really not looking for a reason to cry.
Good Deaths
Christian author and philosopher, Dallas Willard died yesterday. A sad and glorious passage. I think he was probably one of the most influential authors that I had read in my Christian life. I was recounting to a friend today that with Newbigin and Ladd, Willard informed my ideas about the Kingdom of God the most (if you haven’t read The Divine Conspiracy, you should – it’s in my top 10 books). He had a keen mind and a tender heart.
As a result of his passing, I’ve been thinking a great deal about death. I know, morbid, right? There seems to be a coinciding trend within the prevailing culture and the Christian church to both fear death and resisted it all cost. That makes a bit of sense. Naturally, we resist death. In fact, we resist pain of any sort. Several years ago when my
father passed away I witnessed his body straining toward life at all cost. Literally, his outer extremities shut down so that his vital organs could stay alive. It was a stunning realization that we are built to live. I must admit my own fear of pain and death. I am a bit of a baby when it comes to pain. When I am hurt or ill I want to be pampered and coddled. Pain and dying are not easy friends.