Death's Shadow

We live in a world that is constantly under the shadow of death.  It's so easy to forget this sentence hanging over us, which I suppose is a grace.  I go about my life, worrying about silly things and desiring silly things as though this startling and awe inspiring existence I have as a rational creature will stretch on forever.  But every now and then it catches me. The brevity of it all. The fragility.

I spent the weekend intimately acquainted with this reality, as I flew home to spend the weekend with my family and mourn the untimely and unexpected death of a cousin who was just shy of 30.  The afternoon that my plane took off from Seattle was as gloomy and foggy as ever a January day in Seattle. As my plane lifted however, we broke out of the clouds to reveal a glorious sun kissed landscape of mountain ranges and volcano peaks, snow caps glistening in the sunlight. A glory that was hard to believe existed when I was below. Not many hours later I would stand in the viewing room at the funeral home, holding my sister's hand and looking down at a familiar face - a face that was somehow no longer so familiar.  

Death feels so wrong.  It doesn't fit.  It's like credits running in the middle of a film that obviously had more story to tell.  It rarely seems to come when it should or in a manner that people find comforting.  And yet this shadow hangs over all of existence.  I have no way to be sure that I won't myself be a grieving mother someday, or a grieving wife.  Even if all life runs a predictable course the day will come when I have to say goodbye to people I love deeply - my grandparents. My parents.  The only way to avoid it is to leave early myself. An option I don't favor.

But into these dark thoughts come words spoken thousands of years ago, and echoed by my grandmother at my cousin's memorial. "O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" My grandma could speak these words with emotion and conviction in the face of the deep loss of her grandson, almost as a taunt to that which hovers ever over us, because death - like a shadow - doesn't end the light. It only obscures it for a time.  And above the shadow of death the Light of life shines unobstructed.

My non religious friends may roll their eyes at the idea of resurrection, but resurrection is all around us.  Every time you admire a tree you see life that came from death. Hold some seeds in your hand and you'll see that they are dead. And yet from these dead seeds comes abundant life.  And so I believe that the Author of life can call from the dead seeds of our bodies new and abundant life. So maybe the credits didn't roll early on my cousin's story after all. Maybe Act I just finished and we'll have to wait until our own intermission comes to see what Act II holds.  For the family it will feel a long wait indeed - but we're waiting with hearts full of hope.

In the words of a wise man (or hobbit):

"Though here at jouney's end I lie

In darkness buried deep

Beyond all towers strong and high

Beyond all mountains steep...

Above all shadows rides the sun

And stars forever dwell.

I will not say the day is done

Nor bid the stars farewell."