Death: Our Mutual Connection
"How do you know________?"
I find it interesting to scroll through social media to find common personal connections between people I didn't know existed. Like when you know someone from elementary school who is connected to someone you’ve worked with. When you have that experience, the revelation may prompt you to bring up that common connection in conversation the next time you encounter one of them.
"Hey, how do you know _________?"
Worlds collide! Ideally, that bit of volunteered information leads to some pleasant small talk.
It is possible that the conversation is awkward and brings up unpleasant memories. "So...how do you know_________?"
When it comes to connections, humanity shares a relationship with a painful universal aspect of life. Let's personify that aspect for a moment.
We're all connected to Death. Death has visited all of our family, friends, and neighbors. The more you get to know people, the more Death will come up in conversation.
"Oh, you know him too."
In the book, "The Midnight Library," by Matt Haig, the main character Nora, a woman in her mid-thirties who is thoroughly disappointed with her life, has a fantastic encounter with a mysterious library where she experiences different lives she could have chosen to live in the form of books. She initially arrives at the library, weary of life, and contemplates her death. The resident Librarian, Mrs. Elm, observes this and notes, "Death comes to you." In other words, setting up a calendar and expecting Death to cater to our schedule is futile. He shows up on his own time.
Some of us are fortunate to have an approximate arrival time, which allows us to prepare emotionally. Tragically, Death has been known to make unannounced visits.
I live in a poorer neighborhood of Edmonton, and sometimes, you can see his footsteps in the back alleys, trails, and derelict properties. I don't walk in fear, but I proceed with a heightened sense that Death may have booked appointments around me.
Death is well known to police officers, healthcare workers, and anyone else who works with emergency services. Still, ultimately, we're all connected to him. The autographs of our ancestors are written on our DNA to confirm that relationship. You don’t have to invite Death to your social network; he’s already there.
When I think of the people I know who have passed away, I think of missed opportunities. Death is an erasure of creativity and potential. Death scribbles dark ink over our well-written plans and dreams for the future. When someone you know dies, the plans you had with them…die with them, never to return.
Good Friday is an appropriate day to think about Death.
Does Christianity offer something that's different than other religions? Before I go further, I'm not interested in setting up an argument designed to demonstrate the superiority of Christianity. I'm not going to write content that comes off as a Google review of my faith. "Five stars! I love the service and experience of Christianity, highly recommend!" -
I am drawn to this compelling idea that the Christian faith's origin is its leader's defeat. My interest only grows with an understanding of how backward that belief would have been in the early Church era. There was nothing in the Greco-Roman world to compare it to. In ancient times, the gods of the day were never defeated by Death.
“No one in their right mind is going around peddling a religion that has a crucified king as its center but that is exactly what the New Testament writers did.”
If the Greco-Roman religions of the day had all the bells and whistles that would draw people in, Christianity had none. These early followers of Christ did not have beautiful auditoriums, political coalitions, or tax benefits to help advance their cause. They didn’t have the support of the…um… President of the day. The religion of Rome had all of that.
The gods of Ancient Rome would dwell on mountains and in the clouds, high above everyone else. They were easy to comprehend as sculpted statues, but impossible to relate to. The Caesars of ancient Rome were often given divine honors, which would solidify in the minds of the people what a god should look like: Powerful, unyielding, and exacting.
Along comes this fledgling faith with a very countercultural way of life.
“18: For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved, it is the power of God."
and later…
“23 but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles,”
and…
“28 God chose things despised by the world,[a] things counted as nothing at all, and used them to bring to nothing what the world considers important.” says Paul in his first letter to the Corinthian church. (1 Corinthians 1:12-28 )
This faith did not have a god that hurled lightning down upon them when he was angry. The Christian faith had a man who lived, breathed, suffered, and died.
That’s a tough concept to sell in a culture that worshiped Jupiter and Mars, the gods of power and war.
Jesus walked the earth and experience all of it.
He endured death with all of us.
He did not skip around suffering and death.
Jesus, unyielding in the sense that he would not give in to anger or violence, powerful in love and exacting in the cause of justice.
I’m not ashamed to be friended by this King.
In your darkest hour, you share space with someone fully acquainted with the darkness of death. He shares that same connection with you. You are not alone.
And that’s different enough for me.