Grappling With Death

 I can clearly and vividly remember the feeling I had that evening of February 25, 2014. My stomach was churning to the point I couldn’t eat, think, or look at food. We had been blessed by some friends from church who had provided us with a wonderful dinner. It consisted of some pasta dish but I couldn’t even get myself to go into the dining room let along kitchen. My thoughts were blurred and I played two piano pieces over and over again. One was a classic hymn I had learned the fall prior and it was the only thing bringing me comfort at the moment. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t yell, I couldn’t sing, and I didn’t really want to sit or stand either.

My mind kept drifting back to 7:01 that morning when I was awoken by words that I knew I would but never wanted to hear. My life was about to permanently change and I physically, spiritually, and emotionally wasn’t prepared for it. It was a short 24 minutes later when I was beside the bed of my Grandma as she entered eternity. I can remember somehow making out the words to a parting hymn with other gathered family members as tears welled in her eyes and the eyes of many around the room. I stood over my Grandpa as he tried to say goodbye to the woman he had cherished and loved so well for over 60 years. I couldn’t look at my brother as tears welled in his eyes. I had never seen him cry before and it was too much to take in. Watching other family members wasn’t any easier and my heart was getting stabbed and sliced many times over as I tried to comprehend the situation. Hope was elusive but at least it was morning. Joy apparently comes in the morning but it was hard to believe it that cold February morning. It was coming for my Grandma but no one she left behind. I was glad it was in the morning though. Death and darkness went hand in hand in my mind but it was sunny and life seemed normal outside. I left the room shortly after her passing and tried to grapple with what life would look like then. I waited until the hospice nurse arrived and sat through his phone calls with the coroner, funeral home, and sheriff’s department. He did the pronunciation of death but I left for that part. I couldn’t take that in. I remember greeting the two funeral directors when they arrived but left again when they brought in the gurney and body bag. I instead took my younger sister and brother to another part of the house and began playing a game with them to distract them from what was going on. It may have worked for them but it didn’t work for me. My mind was continually wandering and I couldn’t focus on anything.

All these thoughts raged in my mind as I continued to glided my fingers across the keys on the piano avoiding the dinner my family was currently eating. I pleaded in my heart for peace but God seemed close but yet so distant at the same time. I wasn’t sure what normal meant and realized it would be redefined in the coming days and weeks. I was staring at a funeral that coming Friday that I didn’t think I would make it through. But little did I know Friday was just the beginning.

It is rare to meet a funeral director or mortician in my mind. Growing up I had met many people but never had I met or known someone who had a career in the funeral industry. My thought was that those who worked in that capacity don’t really want to be known for what they do. I mean it is a subject that doesn’t really make people feel all that comfortable. But that thought triggered a host of other thoughts in my mind. Why are people so afraid of death or any talk of it? I mean even Christians who know that death is not the end never have discussions about this and it is a topic that is continually avoided. But from the unbeliever’s perspective, death is the end and something to be feared.

Eric Puchner had an interesting theory. He decided to face death front on in hopes that he would become immune or at least lose is deep fear of it. To test it, he shadowed the work of Caleb Wilde, a sixth-generation funeral director from Parkesburg, Pennsylvania, for a few days. Eric made some unsettling discoveries in his work at the small-town funeral home and ultimately left with more questions than answers. The biggest was the paradox that he uncovered in cultural thinking. It was after a day of particularly uncomfortable realities and images that Eric was sitting in his hotel room. His mind was racing with what he had seen and thoughts started filling his mind. He turned on the TV to be greeted by Game of Thrones. That’s when the inconsistency hit him. We as a cultural want to think or be around death as little as possible. We are gripped with fear at the thought of dying and are devastated with the passing of a loved one. But our entertainment is filled with death, killing, and horrific violence. Eric coined this as a desire for “death porn”. Something that somehow attractive for some people but at the same time leaves them unfulfilled and ultimately uneasy. Eric also tried to pull the layers away from Caleb to see where his heart and feelings were. That was hard because Caleb had learned to mask himself well. When the conversation of religion came up, Caleb, a Christian turned atheist, shared that the conclusion he reached was that praising and loving God was just another form of denial. Death is reality and in Caleb’s mind that is all there is. In Eric’s final conversation with Caleb he pressed the topic more. Caleb turned somber and cold. He eventually shared about some experiences too awful to fully share but one had landed him in the hospital and the other on antidepressants which he still took. Some things we see will remain with us forever, Caleb admitted. They are so disturbing, so terrible, that we do the world a favor by not sharing them. Eric concluded that maybe there was no winning the staring contest with death. Ultimately, Caleb wants to reacquaint us all with the uncomfortable, eye-opening realities of death. It will make us more human he says. If it doesn’t kill him first.

I think of the results of what Eric discovered and look at my own life and experiences. I look at the world and see the same paradox that Eric discovered. Sadly, I know and have worked with a number of funeral directors. My friend Mark, who once offered me a job at his funeral home, remains the only believer I have met in the industry. Others like Joel, Jessica, Jon, Mark, and many others I can’t remember the names of make up a long list of people who I wonder where they rest spiritually. That Friday in February marked the beginning of a journey I would take with my family over the next 23 months. I don’t remember how many of the 42 memorial cards I regrettably received at funerals and visitations I saved. But I still remember the stack of 54 that my brother had in his car at one point. Losing ten family members in a year seems much bigger now then it did then. Everything was a blur and nothing made sense. I experienced everything from a free mason funeral service to that of an atheist. I also sat through many Catholic, Lutheran, and protestant services and yet all of them seemed to run on the track of trying to find hope and meaning in the midst of the current circumstances. The funeral of my sister-in-law’s 3-month-old niece was one of the most difficult. Caskets shouldn’t be that small. I honestly don’t know how I made it through that season of my life. I think it was mainly the understanding that it was just a season and it would end. But that didn’t erase the pain, fear, and questions.

Looking back on the at February night I can still remember the awful way I felt. I’m glad I didn’t know then that I would be in for a whole lot more in the months and weeks ahead. I don’t think I would have been able to handle it. But I am glad to look back and see how much I’ve learned. I have grown in some tremendous ways since then and my perspective is so much clearer. I may have to agree with Eric and Caleb’s conclusion that facing the reality of death may make us more human. I mean a reminder of how short life is should motivate us to make every moment count and invest in what is eternal like our relationship with the Lord and people. Solomon said it this way:

 

“Better to go to the house of mourning

than to go to the house of feasting,

for that is the end of all men;

and the living will take it to heart.”

Ecclesiastes 7:2

 

I also agree that we will never humanly win the stare down with death. But we have souls and their eternal freedom has been secured at a great price. In the end, as Christians, we have to be willing to face the reality of death. We will face it regardless of who we are and our response is essential. Not only is it to be supportive and encouraging of those around us but also to a lost world that looks on. When we claim to have the hope and answers, yet avoid anything about death, what message are we really broadcasting? I am in no way promoting the idea that we can become comfortable with or around death. But I am saying we never should have to fear it and we should be reaching the world around us with the hope and confidence we can have because of the work of Jesus Christ.

I don’t agree with many of the conclusions and beliefs that Caleb and Eric hold. But the paradox that Eric pointed out does raise a good point that is worth our consideration. Why is death such an intriguing idea to us in our “entertainment” but yet such a foreign subject in our everyday lives? I mean even though we shouldn’t fear death, is that what we really should be filling our minds with in our “entertainment”. Death is serious. For us we can either look back on a life of regrets or a life of service to the One who is worthy of it all. After death, it’s over. For the unbeliever, whether they believe it or not, death is the start of something so much more horrific and terrifying then death itself. Isn’t it inconsistent to tell others how serious death is and warn them of its finality but then on the other hand watch unnecessarily violent movies for the lone purpose of thrill or excitement? Let me again add the disclaimer that I don’t think this is the case for every Christian or even the norm but I hope we are willing to evaluate where we are at. Is our life spent continually chasing our own dreams and what is fun? Or do we have a more eternal perspective and view every moment as an opportunity to do something that counts.

This topic is certainly heavy but it was a road I was called to walk and so it is close to my heart. I didn’t win the stare down with death. In fact, it scared me to the point I considered letting death win. But I now carry a perspective that most don’t. Death isn’t what is to be feared. Instead it is the reality that millions of people will one day face death unprepared. We can never humanly face death but we have the grace and faithfulness of a God who truly loves us. We have the incredible honor and privilege to carry that hope to a lost world. Does our every moment count? Will we deserve to hear “well done My good and faithful servant”? Life is all fun and games until someone dies. That’s when reality hits.