Facing Death

Last week was Chin Ming or Tomb Sweeping Day.  For years I'd wondered what a Christian response to this Chinese tradition ought to be.  When I was younger, this was not an issue. Growing up overseas, and being mostly among Christians, it seemed my parents had decided to completely bury this festival.  As a result, I grew up with mythological ideas of what it was, but with very few facts.

As I grew up and met more friends of Chinese origin, I started learning about their traditions and the very real challenges they faced in venerating the dead and complying with family expectations versus church expectations.  I also started noticing a lack of conversation about the topic.  Instead, it felt more like an either or choice.

In fact, what ended up happening was that every individual struggled through the decision and went through it behind closed doors.   I believe there was/is a stigma in our church culture - mentioning your struggle over this, or talking about DEATH, for that matter, is synonymous of having a weakened faith, a lack of understanding in God or a wavering commitment to God.  So, no one really talked about it.  Pardon the pun, but everything related to death was, simply put, 'sweeped' under the rug.  At best, we tell ourselves it is a 'personal' journey.

Then I grew up.  I married and faced situations where I had to make decisions about not only how to respond philosophically and theologically to this Chinese festival but how I would pay my respects to the dead.  Would I participate?  Would I not participate?  What would I say?  As I tried to engage in conversation with people I felt people weren't really interested in journeying with me through the confusion.  Instead, people were more than eager to just give me an answer; thus ignoring the emotional heaviness any decision might carry with it.

I used to belittle my parents' desire to 'visit' my brother's grave, laughing it out saying he wasn't there any more.  I remember questioning my parents' faith when they picked a graveyard, gravestone, and outfit for my brother when he passed away.

This year, I took my kids to visit my grandmother's graveyard.  They've gone every year but I think being 8 and 10 now, they have matured enough to understand a bit more.  My daughter offered to take care of the flowers, and I was surprised to hear that my son was hesitant and nervous.  When we got to the cemetery, it didn't help that I had forgotten the location of the tomb.  We went in circles and almost gave up.  Then my son said, "Can we go?  THIS IS CREEPY"

It was 4PM, a bright day.  There was nothing creepy about this place, or so I thought.

And then I realized.....when was the last time my kids have FACED death in any of its many forms?  Sure, we talk about Jesus DYING on the cross - but I guess in their minds Only Jesus dies?  When the news shows death, I switch the channels.  When someone we know dies, I whisper it to my husband, and when someone we know is sick with a terminal illness, we sugar coat it.

When was the last time they faced death,
 talked about death and 
were listened to as they process the harder realities in life?  
When is the 'right' time?  Is there such a thing?

I remember how freaked out I was the first time I ever faced death.

It was 1985, I think.  My uncle had a horrendous accident that took his life.  I was probably about 11 years old.  I still remember the scary, dark and hollow funeral home.  The wailing. The Dark and gruesome funeral home.  And then, the body.  I was petrified, but the worst was that NO ONE EXPLAINED things to me and NO ONE took the time to LISTEN TO HOW I WAS PROCESSING IT ALL.

There would be a few other instances and brushes with the dead in my years in Peru.  Death was a scary thing, and I remembered a few times being taken to attend a funeral.  To my recollection, all of them had an open casket and SEEING the DEAD was gruesome.  BUT again, the issue was that NO ONE REALLY LISTENED OR TALKED TO ME ABOUT DEATH.

Death, up to that point, was scary, was dark, and was ugly.....but IT WAS A FACT OF LIFE I understood very early on.  No one really HID IT from me.  If I had any criticism of the adults around me at the time, it was only that no one really TALKED to me ABOUT it.

And then I came to Canada....and DEATH LOOKED VERY DIFFERENT!

I remember being AMAZED at how PEACEFUL Canadian cemeteries and funeral homes were here.   When Andy passed away, I was amazed to see people jogging in cemeteries!

Death, and the experience of losing someone...seemed so much more peaceful, elegant, serene....creepingly beautiful

And yet, I observed the same underlying issues.  Death is not cruel or dark here, but it is hidden. Death is almost disguised.   We talk about death and sickness only if we have no other choice.

And so, the same problem arises.

When death DOES face us...and it always does....we are UNPREPARED to face it.

And we hide to process it.

The biggest struggle in my journey with death so far, I think, was when 2 family members (not my brother) passed away in Asia.  The preparations for the funeral did not follow the Christian tradition and I played a role in the family.  I think I was so overwhelmed by the experience and struggled with my faith asking God what I ought to do - not feeling I was able to really talk this out with many, or if I did, fearing being lectured.

But as hard as those experiences are, it also showed me clearly how scary Death can be for those who do not know the HOPE that is in Christ and His salvation.  I could taste and see their fear, the hopeless pain and the relentless pursuit to 'appease' the soul.

John 14:27 reminds us that Jesus said to us, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid"

This takes me to this last month.  One Sunday morning, in the middle of church service, I realized something WEIRD.  I was looking at the speaker and a REALITY hit me.

"That guy is probably going to die in about 20 years", I thought

And then I started looking around the room.  I realized in a few years, decades, some of these people will no longer be alive....

Gruesome?  Weird?  Dark?

Or was it a reality check?

I wondered why I 'went there'....but I guess I'm reflecting on Death....Chin Ming Festivals, Lent, Easter, People I know who are battling cancer, People who left this world 'before their time'.....

We feel sometimes FORCED to FACE DEATH....and we face it UNWILLINGLY


Because Death is, after all, a terrible reality we all must face.  Death DOES bring to our consciousness separation.  Death IS the result of our sin.  Death IS creepy, because it IS sad, it DOES bring loneliness and pain and sadness.

Perhaps, as I told my son....we don't have to be weary of "the next time we have to face death" and instead just assume WHEN it happens, determine to use the experience the develop a Deeper understanding of it and learn how to face it VICTORIOUSLY?

As I told my son....."there is nothing creepy about this place"



We do not have to be afraid of Death....but don't run away from it.  "It happens"....but death reminds us of God's love too.  Death reminds us of our finite journey here.  Death reminds us to live our lives for Christ to the fullest.  Death is not the end.

Death makes us love more, care more, live more.

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” Rev 21:4

Yes, if we have to face someone we love go through death, it will hurt.  but "The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."  Psalm 34:18

I still reflect on what God would say about celebrations like the Tomb sweeping festival, or the day of the dead in Mexico....but I don't fret...maybe part of the lesson is to just learn every step of the way, as we learn what life and death is all about, with no fear and instead Hope in God who holds both in His hand and who Loves me with an unending and everlasting love.

For now, I remember and get it -- these festivals are just mere ways to remember.  To reflect.  And the places where we go to remember matter because with them, we PAUSE from our crazy schedules and, if for just a moment, we mean what we say when we say we 'remember'....and we learn to pass 'these things'...our heritage, our history, onto those coming after us.  They too, will have to wrestle with these things, but hopefully, we journey through it together, so that they are not only thrown into the situations with no one to talk to.

And we go back to our crazy lives re-anchored in realities.  We pursue what matters.  We embrace our past.  We love and care more.  We share more.  We gain more courage to live for Christ more....one step at a time.