Toward Death

This is the subject I want to dodge, which is probably exactly why it should be talked about.

Death does not stay somewhere at a safe distance. It does not only show up at funerals, in hospitals or on the evening news. It is woven into this life all the time, one way or another.

People are killed in films. People are killed in series. True crime podcasts orbit around murder like moths around a porch light. The news reminds us of wars, accidents and violence. On social media, we come across updates about people whose lives suddenly ended. People who, just a moment ago, had plans, routines, loved ones and a completely ordinary life.

And at the same time, we go on living our own everyday lives as if death has nothing to do with us.

There is something strange about that.

Death is everywhere, but in a weird way it does not always stop us anymore. Someone gets killed in a series, someone dies dramatically in a film, another true crime episode walks us through another murder, and there we sit with our evening snack. Then the episode ends and Netflix asks if we want to watch the next one.

Sure, why not. Apparently we did not have enough bodies for one evening.

It is almost as if death has become just another part of the streaming menu. Crime drama, murder mystery, apocalypse, zombie army, gloomy detective and some basement where nobody should have gone in the first place.

And yet they always go in.

But in real life, death does not work like that.

This has started to bother me. Or maybe interest me. Death is everywhere, but it is still hard to think about my own mortality. I can watch death on a screen for hours, but when the thought turns toward the fact that this concerns me too, I suddenly feel a strong urge to change the subject.

That is when it is easy to grab onto something ordinary. Laundry, dishes, food, the phone, some small practical thing. Anything, as long as I do not have to sit too long with the thought that one day I will die too.

We talk about health, wellness, supplements, protein, exercise, stress management, skincare and how to get more energy into this whole human project. And that is fine. I am not saying we should lie on the sofa waiting for the Grim Reaper to ring the doorbell.

But at some point we still run into the fact that no wellness routine can remove.

A person can eat their fiber, walk their steps, take their vitamins, drink water, try to sleep better and generally keep the package together. Nothing wrong with that. But none of it changes the fact that none of us stays here permanently.

It is an uncomfortable thought. I would much rather walk around it at a polite distance. But it is still true.

And maybe that is exactly why remembering death can make a person a little more clear-headed. It wakes up questions that are easy to push aside in daily life. What am I actually spending my life on? What am I carrying that I do not need to carry? Who do I need to forgive? Who do I need to ask forgiveness from? What do I keep postponing even though I know it matters?

If my whole life is built on the assumption that health will hold, people will stay, money will be enough, daily life will keep running and the world will remain at least somewhat stable, then honestly, that is a pretty fragile little construction. One phone call, one diagnosis or one accident can change everything in a moment.

For me, talking about death does not mean sitting around gloomily thinking about the end of life. I do not have the energy for that, and I do not think it would even be healthy. But sometimes this subject does something good, because it puts things back into their proper size.

A lot of things lose some of their sharpness when I remember that we are not here forever. A pointless argument. Someone’s opinion. My need to control everything. How life looks from the outside. The constant attempt to build a perfect little kingdom, even though the whole system can shake in a second.

Death is not a pleasant thought, but it is an honest one.

The Bible does not polish death. It does not wrap it in pretty language or speak of it only as some natural circle of life that everyone should accept calmly and beautifully. Death is an enemy. It tells us that this world is broken. It does not belong to the wholeness God originally created human beings for.

And this is exactly where Christianity does not remain just comforting talk.

At the center of Christianity is not the idea that death is a lovely doorway into some vague light. At the center is Jesus, who entered death Himself and rose again.

That is a wild claim when you actually stop and think about it.

Jesus did not die symbolically. He did not die as a beautiful idea or a spiritual metaphor. He really died. He was crucified. He was buried. In the eyes of the people around Him, everything seemed to end there.

But it did not end there.

Jesus said:

“I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.”
(John 11:25, KJV)

That is not a small sentence.

It is either completely outrageous, or it is the greatest hope in the world. There is not much middle ground.

If Jesus has risen from the dead, resurrection is not just a pretty word used at funerals. It is a real promise. He rose first, and in Him there is hope that we too will rise.

That is why death does not get the final word.

This does not mean death does not grieve us. Of course it does. Death is horrible. Loss is horrible. There is no need to wrap it in spiritual decoration and pretend it does not hurt.

Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus, even though He knew He was going to raise him from the dead.

I think that matters.

Jesus was not cold. He did not stand at the tomb saying, “Why are you crying? Resurrection is coming in a minute.”

He wept.

That tells me something about the heart of God.

Hope does not erase grief, but it anchors it to something that holds.

And it also reminds me why Jesus matters so much.

If death is the final word, everything becomes quite cold in the end. But if Jesus has risen from the dead, death is not the final full stop. Death is still serious. It hurts. It tears. It feels wrong because it is wrong.

But it is not the final winner.

That is why we can talk about death without the whole thing becoming dark and crushing. We can even talk about it with a small dry laugh, because the human attempt to control life is sometimes almost comical. We plan, schedule, optimize and compare, while at the same time we do not even control whether we wake up tomorrow.

That does not mean life should not be loved.

Quite the opposite.

For me, Prince also belongs somewhere in this subject, because his music has been with me since my teenage years. Through joy, sorrow and everything in between. One song that inevitably comes to mind here is “Let’s Go Crazy.” To me, it is not just a party song. There is something of death and life in it. It begins almost like a funeral speech, but turns toward the thought that life should not be lived on half power.

I do not mean we should live as if nothing matters. I mean more that because life is limited, it should be loved properly.

Look people in the eye. Say things while there is still time. Ask forgiveness. Give forgiveness. Stop worshipping some completely useless things. Do good when you can.

And above all, ask where your hope actually rests.

Because toward death we are all going.

But as a Christian, I do not believe death is the final destination.

Maybe human beings are constantly trying to process death, even when we do not realize we are doing it. We watch it on screens, read about it, fear it, joke about it, avoid it and return to it again and again.

Because we know this subject concerns all of us.

For a Christian, there is still hope in the face of death: we do not have to face it alone, standing on nothing, without an answer.

Death is real.

But so is Christ.