We had a death in the family this week, temporarily stopping our world in order to deal with all that comes at such times. As a family member only by marriage, my role was observatory in nature as much as anything. It's interesting to listen to people at such times.
I spend a lot of time immersed in the evangelical subculture, where the world is neatly divided into "saved" and "unsaved", Christian and nonbeliever. The strongest mission of evangelicals is to evangelize - identify the unsaved and persuade them to get saved. We are warned often of the importance of warning the unsaved that they are hellbound if they don't become saved. Death ends all chances of salvation.
So then someone dies. And out come the platitudes.
"He's in a better place now."
"At least she's not suffering any longer."
"He'll be waiting over yonder for you."
Even if the deceased was the target of evangelism before death, one must be kind.
"May God have mercy on his soul."
"We never know what change of heart she may have had before she breathed her last breath."
In the end, we seem to vote for universalism, for all to be given a heavenly reward, regardless of the life they lived. Who wants to tell the grieving family, "Well, I guess that's it. Life is over. We'll just have to accept that she's gone forever"? Even worse would be to say, "You know, I'm not sure he was a proper Christian. I'm guessing that eternal punishment awaits him."
Death seems to prompt people to express some interesting beliefs about death and heaven. Someone told me that people refuse to die in the presence of those who love them deeply, that they will linger through endless days of round-the-clock vigilance and die when the one who loves them steps away for just a moment. It was the first I heard of this pattern. The message behind it seemed to be one of comfort for those who went to great lengths to stay close and then somehow missed the actual moment of death.
From what I hear, people believe that those who die are immediately escorted into heaven, that they can observe those who are left behind, that they experience instant healing, and that they are waiting anxiously for us to join them. When push comes to shove, they don't seem to have a very firm belief that anyone they loved would be in any danger of experiencing eternal punishment. Or maybe it's the ones who have such optimistic beliefs who do the most talking, while those who fear for the soul of the dearly departed, speak more of comfort for those left behind.
I don't have a problem with any of these beliefs. I don't know what happens after death. As I wrote in my last post, I'm "betting the farm" on some type of hereafter for those who are followers of Jesus Christ, a life with more than enough joys to compensate for any loss we might experience in this life. By which I mean that I'm not making choices as though this life is all there is. However, I'm not betting anything at all on the literal reality of some sort of eternal punishment. Universalism, the belief that all will be "saved" in the end, doesn't particularly bother me. It simply interests me that it seems to be so firmly rejected by many in regard to those who are living and so much more acceptable in the face of death and grieving. When kindness and compassion are in great need, people tend to view God as more forgiving than at other times. Or maybe those with more orthodox beliefs concerning heaven and hell stand silent while those who aren't afraid to express universalistic views speak up.
In this case, it doesn't really matter because the deceased had made a statement of faith before he died. Everyone present who believes in heaven in any form could rejoice that he had passed from suffering to his eternal reward. And mourn the loss of the good days when he was healthy and active in this life. Death is sad even with a strong belief in a blessed afterlife, simply because of the grief of those who are left behind.
It has been a difficult week and there will be difficult days to come. Belief in an afterlife never quite succeeds in eliminating grief in the face of death.
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