Matt Ash

How often do you talk about death? Not often I imagine. It’s a topic that we naturally avoid, until we find ourselves face-to-face with it. If you’ve never been exposed to death, you usually avoid discussing it because it’s a foreign and dreadful thing. If you have experienced it, the consideration of it typically calls up unpleasant emotions.

In the seminary over the past couple weeks, we’ve had a number of very interesting conversations about death and the afterlife.

In my Pastoral Theology class, a visiting clergyman spoke about the recent passing of his wife of nearly 40 years. His recounting was inspiring, and also thought provoking for many reasons. In my Dogmatic Theology class we discussed the fundamental beliefs of the Armenian Church with regard to death and the afterlife.

Cultural Differences

One of the many things I’ve come to learn about Armenian Culture (in Armenia), is that they, in no uncertain terms, regard death in an extremely tragic way. In an Armenian funeral, the degree to which the loved ones are wailing, really physically sobbing and screaming is a reflection of how much the deceased was loved. You will nearly never see someone smile or laugh upon the reflection of a fond memory, let alone hear a joke made at the deceased’s expense.

This contrasts starkly with what I’ve been exposed to in the United States. On the one hand American culture is hopelessly infused with a Waspishness that values emotional conservatism. Despite the emotional burden one is carrying, to behave in the aforementioned way would be considered uncouth. On the other hand, my personal experience with death and grieving has been one in which the deceased’s life is celebrated, solemnly, but with joy in our hearts as well.

In trying to explain this perspective to some of my classmates, I was met with more than a few blank stares. It was inconceivable that the death of a loved one could inspire anything but pain and anguish. Regardless, I pressed on, but ultimately to no avail. The truth is that I began to doubt whether or not I’ve been taking this whole death thing too lightly. I could see a real sense of dread in there eye’s when I implied that one day a friend of loved one of theirs might pass, and that they should try, especially as future clergymen, to stay positive about it. In reality there is no “might” about it, just “will”.

The Joyful Truth

The truth is that our Orthodox Christian faith tells us that death is indeed an occasion for celebration, a time for us to thank God for the gift of a loved one’s life, and truly feel a sense of joy that their soul has returned to the creator.

Unfortunately that belief, which we accept as a cornerstone of our faith, and profess every Sunday in Church is, generally speaking, less then comforting when faced with actual death. I truly believed this when my own father passed away, but my faith was only able to succor me on an intellectual level. Deep down, in a raw way, there is a natural part of us that sees death for what appears to be: the end.

I kept these thoughts with me for awhile, and I felt saddened that despite the amazing truth of the Christian’s victory over death, a victory that allows us to live our lives free of fear and its self-destructive progeny, we all continually struggle with what we believe versus what we observe and subsequently feel.

During this time I listened to a song that I’ve heard many times before. It was one of the occasions when I felt like I heard the lyrics for the first time, and understood what they meant. The song was “Do You Realize” by the Flaming Lips. It’s a beautiful song, from an amazing band.

“Do you realize that everyone you know will die?
And instead of saying all of your goodbyes
Let them know you realize that life goes fast
It’s hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun don’t go down
It’s just an illusion caused by the world spinning ‘round”

When I heard the last two lines I understood that it was speaking about our human perspective and our struggle to look behind what’s empirical. No matter how assuredly we are educated that the rotation of the Earth around its axis as its orbiting our solar system’s star is the reason we see the Sun move across the sky, and eventually move beyond the horizon, we have always and will always perceive that the Sun is actually going up and down.

In our lives we constantly experience phenomena which we humanly perceive to be one way, but in truth are far more complex and wondrous then we can comprehend. I’m reminded of a recent article in the Telegraph entitled The Top 10 Weirdest Physics Facts, which include this gem: “All the matter that makes up the human race could fit in a sugar cube”.

And so it is with death. We observe a failed body, and we observe the absence of that body’s presence in our daily lives, and we react accordingly .

The beautiful truth, like the setting of the Sun being one motion within the context of the inconceivable harmony that governs our Universe, is that physical death is a natural function of our existence, and when we look beyond it we understand that it’s a prelude to an inconceivable reunion between the soul and God that exits outside of time and space.

It would be disingenious of me to say that we simply shouldn’t be sad at the passing of a loved one. To deny ourselves that response would at best simply be unnatural, and at worst phsycological repression. In that grief though, by striving to look beyond the physical we can find a path that leads to peace in our hearts, and the happiness that the comes from understanding the transformation our loved one has undergone.