Perhaps it’s the time of year, but I have found myself contemplating death a lot more than usual. Not just death in general, but people who have died, existential questions around death, and (as we are all bound to think about) my own eventual death.
I am so grateful to belong to a tradition that has space and language and liturgy for these thoughts – like a container to safely process them in. Of course, that doesn’t mean we have all the answers, and even when we think we have uncovered an answer to one thing, there is often a new mystery right around the corner. I love that Anglicanism has room for that too: life is full of ambiguity, and pretending we know the answers to all of life’s mysteries only closes the door to the possibility of experiencing God in the little unexpected glimmers of revelation through the clouds of perplexity.
One thing I am certain of though, and that is our hope in Christ. Whatever death is, and whatever comes after death, I am certain that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. Baptism binds us to Christ forever, and we are caught up in and redeemed by the power of Christ’s life, death, resurrection and ascension. We often think of this as having implications for our existence after death, but in fact, it has just as much impact on our existence now. We are free to lean into our mortality, enjoying all the messiness and beauty of mortal life as God designed us to.
My prayer for all of us this week is that we may savour the little privileges of mortality: feeling the wind on our skin; tasting food; laughing with friends; allowing sleep – the ‘little death’ – to overtake us. And yes, to allow ourselves to contemplate a holy death, because it is only in doing so that we can live a holy life.
Mother Amanda